Vashti Quiroz-Vega's Blog, page 33

Haiku Friday – Diamonds & Pearls

Hello! It is Haiku Friday and today’s prompt words are Diamonds and Pearls. They were provided by Ronovan Hester of Ronovan Writes.

Ronovan hosts a challenge that anyone could participate in called Ronovan Writes Weekly Haiku Poetry Prompt Challenge every Monday, and you have until Sunday to create a post featuring your haiku poem. He is an author and poet and also does author interviews and much more on his blog. Be sure to check it out. Read Ron’s Haiku Prompt Challenge Guidelines for more information.

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Don’t cry little coal
You are a diamond in the rough
A pearl in love’s eyes

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Don’t cry wee oyster
There’s a seed in your belly
Bright like a diamond

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Also check out Ronovan Hester’s new release AMBER WAKE: Gabriel Falling a Historical Adventure about pirates available on Amazon.

Enjoy your day and have a great weekend, everyone!
Tagged: Amber Wake: Gabriel Falling, diamonds, haiku, haiku friday, pearls, poetry, RonovanWrites, The Writer Next Door, Vashti Q

Writers Quote Wednesday – The Life of an Artist

Hello everyone! I’m sorry for the late post. I saw this quote and I loved it because it rang so true. I felt a need to share it. I had my book, The Fall of Lilith critiqued by an editor which I trust very much and it turns out that I have some structural issues to work on. Just when I thought I was done with this book. Ugh! She said I have some strong writing and great action scenes. She likes much of the dynamics between my characters. She also said she loves my imagination and the way I envision conflict. But I have some structural elements to work on if I want this book to have a strong storyline. So It’s back to the drawing board for me.

At first, after the critique, I was overwhelmed with fear. Could I pull this off? Will I ever get this book to where I want it to be? Then it went downhill from there. Am I a good enough writer? Will I be able to make this work? I wanted to pull the hair out of my head and scream.

Then I realized I needed to sleep on it. Today I’m feeling differently about the critique and my abilities. It’s going to be a lot of work to restructure this book but it’s a matter of taking the elements and scenes I have and using them in a slightly different framework. I can do this. I’m not going to allow my fears to stop me from making this book great. I do have the ability to do that. I just need to focus and get it done. I still feel like crying but I’m going to roll up my sleeves and get to work. That’s what it means to be an artist.

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“Remember: It costs nothing to encourage an artist, and the potential benefits are staggering. A pat on the back to an artist now could one day result in your favorite film, or the cartoon you love to get stoned watching, or the song that saves your life. Discourage an artist, you get absolutely nothing in return, ever.”

~Kevin Smith

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“The artist lives to have stories to tell and to learn to tell them well.”

~Criss Jami

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Colleen Chesebro is a writer, poet, and book reviewer. She hosts an inspiring event every Wednesday on her blog, Silver Threading, called Writers Quote Wednesday Writing Challenge. Anyone can participate by choosing a quote by a favorite writer and combining it with a poem, story or excerpt and posting it on your blog.

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Tagged: #WQWWC, artist, quotes, Silver Threading, the fall of lilith, The Writer Next Door, Vashti Q, Writers Quote Wednesday

Haiku Friday – Sun & Moon

Hello! It is Haiku Friday and today’s prompt words are Sun and Moon. They were provided by Ronovan Hester of Ronovan Writes.

Ronovan hosts a challenge that anyone could participate in called Ronovan Writes Weekly Haiku Poetry Prompt Challenge every Monday, and you have until Sunday to create a post featuring your haiku poem. He is an author and poet and also does author interviews and much more on his blog. Be sure to check it out. Read Ron’s Haiku Prompt Challenge Guidelines for more information.

Also check out Ronovan Hester’s new release AMBER WAKE: Gabriel Falling a Historical Adventure about pirates available on Amazon.

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The Curse

by Vashti Q

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A chance encounter
Sun hides in the horizon
He howls at the moon

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A fetching stranger
Till moonlight shines on her face
Then deep, painful kiss

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Illustration by Alexandr Sumerky (deviantART)

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Have a happy Friday!
Tagged: DeviantART, haiku, haiku friday, poetry, RonovanWrites, sun, The Writer Next Door, Vashti Q, werewolf

Writers Quote Wednesday – Mystery

“The most beautiful experience we can have is the mysterious. It is the fundamental emotion that stands at the cradle of true art and true science.”

~Albert Einstein

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What is Mystery?

Any affair, thing, or person that presents features or qualities so obscure as to arouse curiosity or speculation.

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I’ve decided to put myself out there and post a section of my work-in-progress, Dracúl. This is my first draft. Dracúl follows The Fall of Lilith and is the second installment of my Fantasy Angels Series. I thought this section had a lot of mystery, so it went well with this week’s theme.

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Chapter 1- THE AWAKENING

 

I awoke to darkness and the smell of musty earth and mold. I gasped, feeling disoriented to the time and place. The air was humid and stinging cold. Trembling I shifted on the moist ground my eyes flitted in every direction searching for a source of luminosity. Filaments of moonlight scarcely passed the towering trees that surrounded me.

I raised my shadowy vision to the skies but did not gaze upon a single star. Instead, I saw a mass of dark, branches looming above me. The cold breeze blew and made the trees rustle like living things. Bare branches seemed to come at me like clutching clawed hands. An eerie howling and whistling made by the wind moving around them gave me a jolt.

My pulse began to thump loudly in my ears drowning all sounds except that of my fitful panting.

“Where am I?” My voice sounded small, brittle and unfamiliar. I was but a child. A boy.

Unsure what to do, I lifted my upper body off the wet earth and squinted into the dimness of the forest.

My mind was clouded. “Who am I? Why am I alone in this darkness?” I squeezed my eyes shut and then sprung them open again. My vision began to clear, but my mind was still a fog.

I passed my hands over my face and head. I inhaled sharply as my hands ran across two pointy projections extending from my skull. Shaking, I passed my hands over the rest of my body and noticed the skin below my waist was different from the skin on my torso, arms and face. My lower body was covered in dry, smooth scales cold to the touch.

Images of a tall creature with long extremities filled my mind. Where are my lower limbs? As my vision adjusted to my surroundings I saw that I had no legs. Instead, I had a scaly tail––like a serpent. There was a heaviness tugging on my backbone. I shook to remove the hindrance, but instead a huge pair of black, spiky wings distended from my back. My body tensed. “What sort of creature am I?”

Once more I closed my eyes. When I reopened them I saw colors––grayish green moss covered rocks and russet trees, a sea of gold and copper covered the ground as crisp leaves float down from trees and curl into the moist earth. I gazed at my arms and hands. My skin was red––as red as blood and my hands were clawed.

“Was I abandoned here?”

I wished to escape, but my reptilian lower body would not move. A gust blew chilling the air and blowing the trees. I feared getting ensnared by the trees’ clutches if I took flight. Hostile screeches from unknown creatures pierced the air. I whisked my head to and fro searching for the origins of the sounds futilely. Terror seemed to thwart logic and rational thinking.

♦

Colleen Chesebro is a writer, poet, and book reviewer. She hosts an inspiring event every Wednesday on her blog, Silver Threading, called Writers Quote Wednesday Writing Challenge. Anyone can participate by choosing a quote by a favorite writer and combining it with a poem, story or excerpt and posting it on your blog.

Tagged: #WQWWC, Book, excerpt, fantasy-angels-series, quotes, Silver Threading, storytelling, The Writer Next Door, Vashti Q, Writers Quote Wednesday

Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse with Al Lane

My friend Al Lane from A Certain Point of View is participating in a month long challenge called the A to Z Challenge. He’s chosen the theme of Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse in which he is giving us tips and advice on how to survive if zombies took over the world in the form of haiku. It’s brilliant and hilarious! To change it up in between his A to Z posts he posted this poem that shows us the positive side of a ‘Zombie Apocalypse’. I thought it was great, so I just had to share it. Be sure to check out his A to Z Challenge posts you’ll enjoy it.

Reasons To Be Cheerful

by Al Lane

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No more light pollution,

Ruining the stars,

Global warming gone,

With all those fumes from cars.
No more stuck in traffic;

Or idiots at the wheel;

Finding a spot to park,

Or hours caged in steel.
(That idiot bloke next door

And his annoying son

Acted big and brave:

Got eaten on day one! )
No need to pay the bills

Or keep the taxman quiet.

No pension plan to stress on

Or post-Christmas/ summer diet
And think of all those groups,

That really ticked you off

Lawyers, footballers, estate agents,

All now zombie scoff
No so-called celebrities

And the focus on their looks;

Instead, try conversation

And learning things from books
That’s not to say life’s easy

With zombies all about

But there’s plenty to be thankful for

Of that I have no doubt!

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Here are a few of his A to Z haiku . . .

Don’t believe the myth:

Zombies aren’t after your brains.

Any flesh will do.

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Hang onto your hope,

But don’t hold out for a cure.

Focus on living.

♦

Remember when death

Used to be a full stop?

Now it’s a comma.

Tagged: A Certain Point of View, Al Lane, haiku, poetry, The Writer Next Door, Vashti Q, zombie apocalypse, zombies

Haiku Friday – Life & Path

Happy Friday everyone! It is Haiku Friday and today’s prompt words are Life and Path. They were provided by Ronovan Hester of Ronovan Writes.

Ronovan hosts a challenge that anyone could participate in called Ronovan Writes Weekly Haiku Poetry Prompt Challenge every Monday, and you have until Sunday to create a post featuring your haiku poem. He is an author and poet and also does author interviews and much more on his blog. Be sure to check it out. Read Ron’s Haiku Prompt Challenge Guidelines for more information.

Also check out Ronovan Hester’s new release AMBER WAKE: Gabriel Falling a Historical Adventure about pirates available on Amazon.

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My Haiku this week . . .

The path to triumph
Is a tricky winding road
All souls should travel

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Would You Risk Driving on these Deadly Roads?

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I asked my husband, a cousin and a friend to read this haiku and to interpret what they thought it meant. It was interesting how different and fascinating their individual interpretations were. There are haiku that most people will interpret the same way then there are others that will have a thousand distinct meanings. Go ahead and read it any way you’d like.

Tagged: Amber Wake: Gabriel Falling, haiku, haiku friday, Life, path, poem, poetry, RonovanWrites, The Writer Next Door

Writers Quote Wednesday – The Cursed Tree

A warm welcome to my blog. It is Writers Quote Wednesday and I offer you a quote and a story. Enjoy.

 

“And I came to believe that good and evil are names for what people do, not for what they are. All we can say is that this is a good deed, because it helps someone or that’s an evil one because it hurts them. People are too complicated to have simple labels.”

~Philip Pullman

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The Cursed Tree

by Vashti Q

 

 

The earth rumbled, and the sky turned an ominous dark grey. Large black clouds swirled across the heavens, colliding with each other. A sweet, pungent smell drifted through the air. Once the rain arrived, other odors came. The pounding water shook the plants and trees and carried their odiferous particles in the air. Jagged lightning bolts split the skies, spearing trees and turning them to ash. Deafening thunderclaps made the garden tremble. God was angry. Man had betrayed him. The Garden of Eden would no longer be home to Adam and Eve.

 

Only one tree still stood among the devastated land: the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. It, too, was cursed and would not last long in the tumultuous storm of God’s rage. A powerful gust of wind removed a seed from this tree and blew it out of the garden and into the world.

 

The tiny doomed seed drifted to the area of a large, roaring river and landed near its bank. The winds continued to bluster, covering it in moist soil. Buried and forgotten, the small seed took root.

 

In time, the seed pushed through the soil a green, quivering stem adorned with tiny, prickly leaves.

 

“What is it, Cain?” Abel scrunched his nose.

 

“What does it look like? It is a plant of some kind.” Cain peered at the rudimentary tree.

 

“I know that, but what kind of plant? It looks different from all the other vegetation. I do not like it.” Abel’s thick blond hair fell on his face as he leaned forward to take a better look.

 

“I think it is a newborn tree, and I do like it.” Cain stared at it. “I am going to build a barricade around it to protect it from the animals.”

 

“Why?” Abel asked. “It is ugly.”

 

“I want to see it grow. Besides, sometimes things that begin as ugly can grow to be beautiful.”

 

Abel’s brow joined in thought. Cain brushed his brother’s hair from his face. He could not stand that his younger brother never tied his hair back. On the other hand he always kept his dark brown hair tied back and neat.

 

Cain kept to his word and built a barrier around the small tree. The boy visited the tree daily and made sure it was doing well. He even spoke to it. “I know you probably do not understand my words, or maybe you do. I know not. Nevertheless, I shall take good care of you and see what fruits you bear.”

 

“Thank you,” the tree responded in his mind. He jumped, startled by the strange voice in his head.

 

Cain looked around and saw no one. His deep cerulean eyes gawked at the small tree before him. “D-did you speak to me?”

 

“I did,” the tree said.

 

Cain gasped. He took a few steps back. “How is this so? Trees do not speak.”

 

“Just because one never spoke to you does not mean that trees do not speak,” the tree said.

 

Cain stared at the tree.

 

“Protect me and help me grow and I shall bear extraordinary fruit just for you.”

 

Wide-eyed, he nodded in agreement.

 

He continued to visit the tree almost every day. He pulled any weeds growing near it. He made sure the tree’s soil was moist and that it was receiving enough water. He also took care of the surrounding land. He planted fragrant flower bushes and verdant plants to grow along with the tree. Soon, he had created a small paradise with the tree in the center of it.

 

He had many conversations with the tree and it was a good listener. As Cain grew up alongside the tree, he did a lot of complaining about his brother Abel, and the tree paid attention.

 

Years went by, and both Cain and his tree grew big and strong. He had grown into a handsome young man—tall, with long, dark hair, eyes blue like the twilight skies, and creamy skin the color of golden powder sand. He loved the land and knew how to work it well, and working it made him strong and muscular. Every seed he planted yielded luscious fruits, vegetables, and beautiful flowers.

 

One day, he came to visit his tree. Cain carried a basket filled with delectable fruits and vegetables. He grumbled under his breath as he kicked stones in his path. He let the basket drop to the ground. The crops spilled out and rolled in different directions on the lush grass. He fell to his knees and wept into his hands.

 

“What is the matter? the tree asked. “Why are you so troubled?”

 

“Nothing I do is good enough!” Cain’s eyes were dark and glistened as he continued to weep.

 

“What do you mean? Everything I have seen you do has been extraordinary. Because of you, I thrive.”

 

“My father does not think so,” Cain said. “Only my brother, Abel can do right in his eyes.”

 

“It seems that your golden-haired brother does nothing but cause you grief.”

 

“Even God shuns my crops and acclaims his sacrificed lamb. I am the eldest, yet I have always walked in my brother’s shadow. But there is nothing I can do.”

 

“Kill him,” the tree said, “you can kill him.”

 

Cain gulped air and stared at the tree, openmouthed. “No! I cannot slay my brother!”

 

“Why not? You are much stronger than he is.”

 

Cain looked bewildered. “I-I just cannot kill him.”

 

“You have never killed but your brother has killed many times.” The leaves on the tree trembled. “Every time he sacrifices a lamb or a goat, he kills.”

 

“This is true, but it is not the same.”

 

“Why?” The tree’s stentorian tone surprised Cain.

 

“Because taking my brother’s life is taking a human life.”

 

“A life is a life! Why did you protect me so, if you did not hold this to be true?” Cain’s heart leaped to his throat as he pondered the tree’s words. “If your brother Abel can take a life, then so can you.”

 

Cain jumped to his feet, nodding. He stared ahead––his blue eyes glittering with the prospect of revenge.

 

“Sacrifice your brother Abel so that you may walk in the light. Once Abel is gone, you shall grow mighty in your father’s eyes.”

 

Without another word Cain rushed to find his brother. He found him on a nearby hill tending after his sheep.

 

“Brother!” He called.

 

“I am here, among the sheep.” Abel’s long, golden hair a mess and flapping in the wind.

 

“You are always among the sheep. It is no wonder you smell like one.” Cain wore a mischievous expression. Abel chuckled until he saw his brother held a large rock in his powerful hand. He looked at his brother’s face, then at the rock, and then at Cain’s face again.

 

“That is a large, menacing rock you carry.” Abel’s voice was tremulous. “What do you intend to do with it?”

 

Cain gripped the rock until his knuckles turned white. He clenched his jaw and flared his nostrils.

 

Abel, who sat on the ground, climbed to his feet. He stared at him with wide eyes and took a step back.

 

Cain narrowed his eyes. He looked at his brother’s hooded russet eyes, at his messy hair and his sun-kissed skin. He puffed and slammed the rock on the ground. “What do you know of fear?” Cain turned and ran away.

 

He ran all the way back to the tree.

 

“I could not do it,” he said breathless. “I hate him. He is my brother and I hate the air he breathes, but I cannot kill him.”

 

“Do you remember the promise I made to you?”

 

“You promised to someday bear extraordinary fruit for me. What has this to do with my current circumstances?”

 

“Have you noticed the small flowers that have grown on my branches?”

 

“I have. Apologies, I have been meaning to compliment you on those, but so much has happened that––”

 

“Apologies are not necessary. I only mention them because in four weeks time a fruit will grow amidst each bloom. A remarkable fruit.”

 

“Remarkable in what way?”

 

“You bring your brother to me in four weeks time, and have him taste my fruit. One bite will accomplish what you could not.”

 

Cain returned home and was at his best behavior. He was obedient to his parents and kind to his brother. He must be pleasant and amicable toward his brother so that when the time came, he would not fear to follow him.

 

There was a consequence to Cain’s feigned behavior. As he became nicer to his family, it seemed to him that they too became more pleasant to be around. He began to enjoy his brother’s company and his parents’ new praises and attention. Being obedient to his parents and kind to his brother had its rewards. He was enjoying his time with them.

 

Four weeks flew by and the time had come to take Abel to the tree. Cain observed his brother as he protected and guided his sheep. Once more he felt remorse. He dragged his feet back to the tree.

 

“I have changed my mind,” Cain told the tree. “I know longer wish to see my brother’s life extinguished.

 

“It is too late now!” the tree bellowed, causing Cain’s head to ache. “He must taste the fruit I bear!”

 

Cain shook his head. “No! I no longer desire his death!”

 

“For years all you talked about was your hatred for your brother,” the tree said. “You spoke of your hatred for him while you watered me. You spoke of your hatred for him as you pulled weeds from around my roots. You said over and over again, as you pruned and cared for me, how your life would be so much better if your brother were not around!”

 

“Things are different now. I am an obedient son and a loving brother. Since I have been good, my parents show me more love and my brother is kind to me.”

 

“How long do you think this shall last? You are not being yourself right now. You are being who they want you to be, and the day you grow tired of being an imposter, they, too, shall go back to the old ways. Remember your parent’s preference for your brother. Remember how they all looked down on you, as if you were lesser than they.”

 

Cain’s heart grew heavy. His face and body slackened. He stared at the tree through eyes blurred with tears. “You are an evil tree and the fruit you bear is an abomination.”

 

“If I am evil, it is only because you have fed me the hatred that consumes you. The fruit I bear is a product of your hostility and your odium.”

 

Cain’s eyes opened wide, his breathing became shallow and erratic. He turned away from the tree, unable to stand its evil presence any longer. He ran as fast as his feet could carry him. When he arrived home he saw his mother watering the root vegetables he had planted for her.

 

“Mother!” he yelled. Eve jumped. “Where is my brother?”

 

“I do not know. He went looking for you.” Eve looked at him with confusion. “You look pale and distraught. Is there something wrong?”

 

“I must find him.” He hurried to the hill where Able spent most of his time with his sheep. He was not there. Instead, Adam tended the sheep.

 

“Father, where is Abel?” Cain asked. “I must speak to him.”

 

“Your brother went off to look for you. He said he would look for you by the river where he thought you would be tending your favorite tree.” Cain gasped and his legs faltered. He plopped onto his knees.

 

His father hurried over. “What is the matter, son?”

 

“Nothing, Father.” Cain clambered to his feet. “I have been running around looking for him, and I am a bit tired.”

 

Adam responded, but Cain did not hear his words, for his pulse beat loud and fast in his ears.

 

“I must go now, Father.” Cain hurried to the small paradise he had created by the river. Standing next to his tree was his brother, holding a half-eaten fruit in his hand.

 

“You did not tell me your tree has yielded fruit.” Abel smiled. “It is the sweetest and most succulent of all fruits.”

 

Cain approached him slowly, shaking his head––large tears falling from his eyes.

 

“Did you not catch the stench of evil and death that comes from this treacherous fruit?” Cain’s face was marked with anguish.

 

Abel flinched and dropped what remained of the fruit to the ground. His face turned ashen and he dropped to all fours. He sat on his haunches, and his tongue wagged out of his mouth. He rocked back and forth. His mouth foamed and he held his hands in front of him like paws. Then he ran around in circles on all fours, making growling noises and tearing plants apart with his teeth before eating them. He approached his brother and sniffed him.

 

Cain retreated from him, his face twisted in disgust. “He is wild, eats grass and runs around on all fours. He is mad and has the mind of an animal.” Cain’s face was red with rage. “Why have you done this?”

 

“It is what you desired,” the tree said. “You could not kill him because he was human, but now he is but a mere animal. Kill him. Or do you prefer he live like this for the rest of his existence?”

 

“No!” Cain shook his head as his heart pounded.

 

Abel continued to growl and paw at him.

 

Cain stared at him. Tears flooded his face. Abel was human only in appearance. He saw that now. He could not allow his brother to go on like this, and he would not put his parents through the shame of watching their beloved son walk on all fours and eat grass. He would do what he must in order to make this right.

 

He grabbed a large jagged rock and walked over to Abel. He lifted the rock over his head. “Goodbye, brother.” Cain brought the rock down on his head again and again until his brother’s skull became one with the ground, and his warm blood covered his face and hands and colored the verdant grass red.

 

Cain saw what he had done and shouted to the heavens as he pulled the hair out of his head. “My brother’s blood calls out for revenge, so punish me, oh God! I deserve your worst. But before you do, please, allow me to watch the destruction of this evil tree. I implore you!”

 

The earth rumbled and the sky turned an ominous dark grey. Large black clouds swirled across the heavens, colliding with each other. Deafening thunderclaps made the ground tremble. A jagged lightning bolt ripped through the sky and speared the tree, turning it to ash.

Copyright © 2014 by Vashti Quiroz-Vega. All rights reserved.

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Colleen Chesebro is a writer, poet, and book reviewer. She hosts an inspiring event every Wednesday on her blog, Silver Threading, called Writer’s Quote Wednesday. Anyone can participate by choosing a quote by a favorite writer and posting it on your blog.

♦

 

Tagged: #WQWWC, horror, quotes, Short stories, Silver Threading, the cursed tree, The Writer Next Door, Writers Quote Wednesday

Haiku Friday – Fray & Veiled

Happy Friday everyone! It is Haiku Friday and today’s prompt words are Fray and Veiled. They were provided by Ronovan Hester of Ronovan Writes.

Ronovan hosts a challenge that anyone could participate in called Ronovan Writes Weekly Haiku Poetry Prompt Challenge every Monday, and you have until Sunday to create a post featuring your haiku poem. He is an author and poet and also does author interviews and much more on his blog. Be sure to check it out. Read Ron’s Haiku Prompt Challenge Guidelines for more information.

Also check out Ronovan Hester’s new release AMBER WAKE: Gabriel Falling a Historical Adventure about pirates available on Amazon.

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♥♥ I’m dedicating this haiku to a very special woman in my life. She’s a retired nurse, lung cancer survivor, and one of the most courages people I know––my mom.

♥

MOTHER

by Vashti Q

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I am who I am
Because she won the fight
Courage masked as woman

Fray (Fight) & Veiled (Masked)

♥

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Thank you for stopping by and have a wonder day and weekend!

 

 

 

Tagged: haiku, haiku friday, lung cancer, mother, poetry, RonovanWrites, The Writer Next Door

Writers Quote Wednesday – Empathy

Hello everyone and welcome to my blog. It’s Writers Quote Wednesday and I’d like to take advantage and say a little something about empathy.

I believe what this quote says also. Without empathy the world would be in chaos. I believe that the story of Sodom and Gomorrah has a lot to do with the people of these two ancient cities lacking empathy and becoming desensitized to the suffering of their own people. Whether you believe God destroyed these two wicked cities or the eruption of a colossus volcano wiped them out, the truth is the world is a better place with them gone.

Right about now you may be thinking, what the heck is she talking about? Something similar to what happened in the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah is happening in the world today. I’m not preaching ‘Armageddon’ but you have to admit that many people nowadays are sorely lacking  empathy.

My father is still in the hospital. He’s doing a little better every day so we’re a bit more hopeful. He has a strong will and is fighting like crazy. I have spent a lot of time in the hospital with him and if you have a family member admitted in the hospital I recommend you do the same. When I’m not there my mom, sister or brother are. My brother and I are in the medical field and my mom is a retired nurse. We know what goes on.

I venture to say that 80% of the hospital staff are good people that care but then you have that 20% that are completely desensitized and lack empathy for the patients they treat and their families who are suffering right along side them. These are the people to watch out for.

My father is not alone in his hospital room. He shares the room with another man. The other patient’s wife has been by his side since my dad was moved to that room on Sunday. At least she’s always there when I’ve gone to visit my dad which is every day for many hours. Yesterday I overheard the older woman (she’s in her 80s) ask the nurse if she could bring her a sandwich or a small soup. She thought that since her husband, who was hospitalized, could not eat that maybe she could get a little of the food he was unable to consume. To my surprise the nurse told her no and not in a very nice way. The lady explained that she had no family to bring her food and she did not want to leave her husband’s side and I suspect she didn’t have much money either. The nurse told her coldly that she was not going to repeat herself and that the answer was still no.

My heart was crushed. I mean, I felt physical pain in my chest. How could someone stare a person in the face and refuse to help them, especially a tiny (maybe 95 lbs) 80 year old who’s hungry when you know you could easily help her. My family and I have been offered soup, sandwiches, jello, pudding, juice and all sorts of things by other nurses while we’ve been there and this nurse is telling this lady that she can’t do it. I couldn’t believe the callous way in which this nurse spoke to this lady or the lack of empathy.

Afterward I told the patient’s wife that I was headed for the cafeteria and that I would bring her something to eat. I brought her back a soup and sandwich and she ate the soup and saved the sandwich for later. Before I left the hospital I spoke to the charge nurse and explained what had happened. She told me not to worry that from that moment on they will bring the older lady food and she kept her word because the nurse (a different nurse) and nurse assistant have been coming by the room and bringing my dad’s neighbor’s wife snacks like jello, pudding . . . between breakfast and lunch of course. She will be receiving three meals a day plus snacks. That’s the way it should be. After all, if a hospital is going to charge $25.00 for an aspirin, $8.00 for a box of tissue, and $20.00 every time the blood pressure cuff is used they can afford to feed a poor old lady who doesn’t want to leave her husband’s side an occasional soup and sandwich.

People in the medical field are constantly in danger of becoming desensitized and of lacking empathy for the patients they serve and their families. I commend all those individuals who have been in the medical field for years and maintain concerned, moved, involved––with love in their hearts for those they care for and their families. I appreciate you and am so grateful for you.❤

♥

Colleen Chesebro is a writer, poet, and book reviewer. She hosts an inspiring event every Wednesday on her blog, Silver Threading, called Writer’s Quote Wednesday. Anyone can participate by choosing a quote by a favorite writer and posting it on your blog.

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I want to thank all my wonderful online friends for the love and support, kind thoughts, wishes and prayers for my father’s well being. You are all great and I am very thankful. ❤

My dad

Tagged: #WQWWC, empathy, quotes, Silver Threading, The Writer Next Door, Vashti Q, Writers Quote Wednesday

I don’t want to say goodbye . . .

My father is in the hospital again. He had been doing better than expected for a while now, so I guess it made us forget how bad things really are. He came over my house on Sunday for Easter brunch and although he was walking and talking and seemed to be happy I noticed there was something off. He was pallid and he struggled more than usual to walk and he hardly ate.

He went downhill from there and at 3:00 am on Tuesday he was admitted to the hospital. He’s lethargic and unresponsive now. When I arrived at the hospital and spoke to him he tried to open his eyes and he managed to open them a little and he smiled but after that he wasn’t responding to the nurses or doctors that came by.

I’ve been in and out of the hospital since then, mostly in, which is why I didn’t do Writer’s Quote Wednesday and haven’t been online much at all. Sorry about that. My sister Cleo is in the hospital with him now and I’ll be leaving soon but I didn’t want to leave everyone hanging without an explanation. I’ll get myself together and get back to my routine as soon as I can but for now I’m going to see my dad. This is a very painful part in someone’s life and I’m barely hanging on.

My father has come close several times and recovered. He has a very strong will but this time it seems different.

My dad

♦

Father

by Vashti Quiroz-Vega

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His brown eyes deepened into polished onyx, and upon them came a mist of tears.
He watched with the facade of a brave man as his baby boy entered the world.
As if his mind and body were not consumed by overwhelming fears.
What are my duties? There are no guidelines. Where do I begin?
The babe in his arms felt so natural, yet so alien. A fire blazed in his chest.
“You are a father now.” The words were jolting, yet pleasing to his heart.
♦
His brown eyes deepened into polished onyx, and upon them came a mist of tears.
He watched with the façade of a calm man as his son toddled, taking his first steps.
As if his mind and body were not consumed by overwhelming fears.
What if he falls? What if he hurts himself? I would fail as a father.
The toddler tottered to him and embraced him with dulcet giggles.
As he held his son, it did not feel alien. His heart gave way for love to conquer.
♦
His brown eyes deepened into polished onyx, and upon them came a mist of tears.
He watched with the façade of a cool man as his son introduced him to his first girl.
As if his mind and body were not consumed by overwhelming fears.
What if he falls in love? What if she breaks his heart?
He embraced his son and slipped extra cash in his pocket.
As he held him, it felt like love, and he rested assured his son was smart.
♦
His brown eyes deepened into polished onyx, and upon them came a mist of tears.
He watched with the façade of a brave man as his son grew and had sons of his own.
As if his mind and body were not consumed by overwhelming fears.
Did I raise him right? Did I teach him to be a good husband and father?
He embraced his son, and they were swathed by the love they both felt.
As he held his son, his questions were answered, and he grew calmer.
♦
His son’s brown eyes deepened into polished onyx, and upon them came a mist of tears.
He watched his father wear the façade of a spent man as he lay on a hospital bed.
His son’s mind and body were consumed by overwhelming fears.
Am I doing the right thing? Who am I to decide when his time has come?
His face dampened with sorrow as he embraced his father.
As he held his father’s weary body and gazed into his dimming eyes, his questions were answered, and he grew calmer.
♦
His brown eyes deepen into polished onyx, and upon them comes a mist of tears.
He watches with the façade of a pitiful man as his son reaches for that button.
He is ready to leave this world and grateful his son has let go of his fears.
As his son holds his ruined body, and he feels the lifeblood drain from his eyes, he knows he has raised him right.
His mind and body are consumed with overwhelming love.
His son has given him the gift of peace, and his happy spirit travels toward the light.

♦

Copyright © 2014 by Vashti Quiroz-Vega. All rights reserved.

Tagged: brown eyes, don't want to say goodbye, Father, poem, poetry, The Writer Next Door, Vashti Q