Late Ripeness
“Not soon, as late as the approach of my ninetieth year,
I felt a door opening in me and I entered
the clarity of early morning.
One after another my former lives were departing,
like ships, together with their sorrow.
And the countries, cities, gardens, the bays of seas
assigned to my brush came closer,
ready now to be described better than they were before.
I was not separated from people,
grief and pity joined us.
We forget - I kept saying - that we are all children of the King.
For where we come from there is no division
into Yes and No, into is, was, and will be.
We were miserable, we used no more than a hundredth part
of the gift we received for our long journey.
Moments from yesterday and from centuries ago -
a sword blow, the painting of eyelashes before a mirror
of polished metal, a lethal musket shot, a caravel
staving its hull against a reef - they dwell in us,
waiting for a fulfillment.
I knew, always, that I would be a worker in the vineyard,
as are all men and women living at the same time,
whether they are aware of it or not.”
~ Czeslaw Milosz ~
My name is Cristina Jill Mosqueda Cooper. I pause looking at my name, and think about how much there is to explain with those words alone. My mother gave me a name to use in each of my worlds, Cristina for my Cuban life, and Jill for the American life. I suppose it is there were the paradoxes of my life began.
I have been many things in my life, from a housekeeper to a high school history teacher; but no matter what else I did, I was always a writer. I love words and the power and passion which they can be used to create. I love reading words, writing words, speaking words, and listening to words – especially words from people that I love and respect.
It is my desire to live life on my own terms, and willingly or not, I have paid the price demanded, by the world, to be myself. I share my life with Kate, with whom I have lived for the last 23 years, and Miss Merry Margaret, our little mutt who really is the world’s most perfect dog. I also travel, cook, garden, sculpt, and make large messes doing all of the above. Welcome to my world, that is all for now.
Web Site: http://thatisallfornow.com
Sitting By My Bedside “One sure window into a person’s soul is his reading list.” ~ Mary B. W. Tabor ~ What are you reading? Are you looking for your next great read? Here is a look at what is sitting by my bedside, and which I am pleased to recommend....
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Quite an Iguana We were trimming the giant Birds of Paradise, when we decided to step inside for a few minutes, to cool off. Upon emerging, we were greeted by this gigantic iguana, nicely adapted to blend into his environment. He is much larger than his neighbor. http://thatisallfornow.com/?p=7035
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United States Holocaust Memorial Museum “Only guard yourself and guard your soul carefully, lest you forget the things your eyes saw, and lest these things depart your heart all the days of your life. And you shall make them known to your children, and to your children’s children.” ~ Deuteronomy 4:9~ In...
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Happy Valentine’s Day! “To Ruthie From Verna” I found this collection of old Valentine’s in a second hand store in Fort Lauderdale. The idea that someone saved these cards for 80 – 90 years is remarkable, to me; whether it was the original recipient and then a family member, who must have understood...
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The Garden Is Sleeping Yet another blizzard has struck New England, covering her in a several feet deep, blanket of snow. For all of you who wish you were swishing through the snow, here is a peak at the garden fast asleep. Those are lilac bushes, standing tall! ...
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Is it just me, or does this guy have it right? I was walking in Annapolis, and happened upon this man, who seemed to not have a care in the world. The boat is a little small to live on, perhaps, but I have to say, he seemed incredibly happy, sitting in...
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The Tray by Cristina Jill Mosqueda The Tray is a short story about a family’s history, which is told through its unique legacy. “Though the Papa spent many nights looking up into the stars, praying for a way to save his family, from the coming Inquisition, in his heart, he knew it was hopeless. ...
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I Almost Lived by Cristina Jill Mosqueda I died without ever having lived. My funeral was a simple affair, with a half dozen paid mourners, who periodically wailed, as if genuinely bereaved. After the service, there was no reception, and not one soul bothered to send flowers, as it would have seemed imprudent, to...
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Overcast Skies And An Overcast Heart The air hung heavy in the overcast sky; I walked along the crowded streets, weaving in and out between the nameless faces whose pace I was forced to keep. Without a particular destination, I put one foot in front of the other, trusting I would find...
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Are We Savoring Life? “Thank you for posting this (I have removed the person’s name to whom this was posted) gbu always I read the above comment, in response to the person’s post, at whom the comment was directed and paused for a moment, to figure out what gbu meant. The only...
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