Tag Archives: headache.



Last month when I was at daughter’s home in Hartford, the symphony of children’s voices was deafening. My ears ached. I would try to hush them. It didn’t work. They screeched more.

Added to their ear splitting yells were the voices of neighboring children whose moms weren’t at home to see where their children spent their time. To the children I must have seemed a monster curtailing their merriment. In desperation I would threaten dire measurements, which I wasn’t going to implement in reality. They didn’t know that, but my empty threats had no effect over their sky high decibels.

The neighboring children would keep circling our home. They would wait till daughter’s kids came down, and then they would bang at the patio door to let them in.

 I dreaded mornings when the children woke up, and came down. I would give them their breakfast. After that the noise picked up. I am used to quietness, and silence at home with Son. When daughter came back home, I would get a huge relief from keeping an eye on the children.

Daughter wasn’t at home. She was an acting chaplain at a hospital. She had to stay for nights too, and attend to the patients when needed. 

I couldn’t take more with ear aches, and headaches brought on with the daily noise. It multiplied as the day went, and much to daughter’s regret I didn’t extend my stay with them.



Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt.


Lady of Indecision 

How about a patron saint of indecision? —- My Lady of Indecision. 

Not making a decision is my worse trait. I am sick over it myself. For me making a decision is a problem. To me a decision is like an insurmountable mountain. 

You can’t imagine how problematic it is? I have to write a letter. It’s of utmost importance, and I should write it immediately. What do I do? I keep thinking I will do so in a minute……

The minute stretch to hours — morning goes —- evening starts —- the day ends —- postponed to another day, and it goes on…….

Going out? I will look into my wardrobe. Stare in vain inside to find something to wear. At least it is still easier to decide than going to a party. The indecision reaches hellish proportions. What to wear, which purse, which footwear and which jewelry  to match? I feel tired even before I have to go. A headache of gigantic magnitude heads my way.

My (late) husband R had no such problem. A day or so earlier he would ask me to press his chosen clothes. He would take a shower, change and be ready in ten minutes. I did envy him his habit, but alas! I am made a different way.

I am truly horrified at myself. Why I am so indecisive? From where I got this gene? From father or mother? Since both of them passed away a long time ago, it’s hard to ascertain. I will never know where to lay the blame, and who burdened me with this affliction?

My earlier response to the same prompt is “Can I be a Saint?” June 2, 2014



A True Saint

In 300 years, if you were to be named the patron saint of X, what would you like X to be? Places, activities, objects — all are fair game.