tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14117947790163451012024-03-19T04:16:53.701-07:00Life Between LivingShaharohhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908881744823537543noreply@blogger.comBlogger178125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1411794779016345101.post-1781162916853029422018-06-17T10:23:00.000-07:002018-06-17T10:30:25.863-07:00The Second Father's Day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcGU6sMQvgARNcrDEqhzQoe74xGYr1xK_Yrm5T8hnSWtvvd8EduCmC2TWmDjTj-Z8nyKQZMmeOa6YpdB5-ekbxGyGoiMhxw5na48hsONLAnSc3PMmJQIwGIg2sVo5mb-XIH9Br9RVgMV4-/s1600/PB+Father%2527s+Day+2018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="614" data-original-width="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcGU6sMQvgARNcrDEqhzQoe74xGYr1xK_Yrm5T8hnSWtvvd8EduCmC2TWmDjTj-Z8nyKQZMmeOa6YpdB5-ekbxGyGoiMhxw5na48hsONLAnSc3PMmJQIwGIg2sVo5mb-XIH9Br9RVgMV4-/s800/PB+Father%2527s+Day+2018.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
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Happy Father's Day Daddy! </div>
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In honor of this day, I'll share my latest entry in the journal I write to you in:</div>
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6/12/18</div>
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Dearest Daddy,</div>
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My second Father's Day without you here in human form. I get sad sometimes but then I am grateful and thankful of the love that connects us. To know a father's love, to know your love is immeasurable. I am one of the lucky ones to have been raised by two people. </div>
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My mom said I got my honesty from you and while I can't 100% say that I have never told a lie, it is hard for me to. It's also hard for me to hold in what I am feeling. Even if it's not in conversation, it is in my art, my songs, my writing or my voice. These gifts that are bestowed upon me---the inquisitiveness, the yearn to travel, to read, to learn--I feel that I am connected to you. I feel our bond.</div>
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I feel guilt sometimes. I wish I could have been there--been closer. But I know if I had died, you would be feeling the same. We chose our paths but our love remains inseparable always.</div>
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I hope you are free, laughing and the secrets of this world are just a minuscule portion of the universe you reside in. You were always intelligent but now you are beyond intelligence. The wall that separates life and death has fallen and what you see is the circle--the connection between events--the space time continuum--where all exists at once. We are born, we live and death is an illusion. Your "selves" have conversed and between them, there is a mutual understanding that you are eager to share with the us when we make our transitions.</div>
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I sometimes get lost in the everyday and I think people forget that while I've got two ears listening, my heart is broken and still very much still healing. It's a lonely state to be in but it's also one that keeps things in perspective. I miss you, my beloved Daddy, Papa Bear, text buddy, Battleship opponent and lecturer. It's a constant thing that will never diminish. </div>
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I do try to remember that you want me to be happy--to laugh, to smile and to make my dreams manifest. </div>
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Everything that will come</div>
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You will be there</div>
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In my bones</div>
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Where you live now</div>
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Love Eternal</div>
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Boo Bear</div>
Shaharohhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908881744823537543noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1411794779016345101.post-89151404599297523342017-06-16T15:54:00.000-07:002017-12-19T12:35:31.431-08:00The First Father's Day <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2t6-5-JnhT4auvEywyzNnWXBEOmRh-dfesfIfVVTLwJgbW3UkDclHHBYQegM-a00mmnvATy05-lnNSHA73LR2APm3dHFpsBV-B72SxlWM8h0Dn3zpVX5QFaZFenE3in3vx2Ky2XqM7gDq/s1600/Bday+2+w+Daddy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2t6-5-JnhT4auvEywyzNnWXBEOmRh-dfesfIfVVTLwJgbW3UkDclHHBYQegM-a00mmnvATy05-lnNSHA73LR2APm3dHFpsBV-B72SxlWM8h0Dn3zpVX5QFaZFenE3in3vx2Ky2XqM7gDq/s800/Bday+2+w+Daddy.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Dear Daddy,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It's been almost six months since you became one with the sky.
These have been the hardest six months of my life. I feel myself going from one
end of the spectrum to another. In between the day-to-day moments lives an
emotional pain I was not fully prepared to deal with. I don’t know what advice
you would give me except maybe something along the lines of “Nothing truly dies. Energy is transformed” or maybe “Don’t be sad Boo Bear”. I don’t know if I’ll ever not be sad
but a good friend told me the other day that someday I’ll be able to accept the sadness.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Father’s Day is in two days and I feel a lump in my throat and a knot
in my stomach. By now, I would have sent you a special card (from Papyrus
because they just somehow always manage to get it right), with the perfect wording
or a blank one that I can write myself. As a gift, last year I sent you Huis
Clos (No Exit) by Jean-Paul Satre and you absolutely loved it. When we spoke
you were so happy and said you felt like a kid in the candy store zipping
through the play. Hard to top that off this year but I would have tried. The Alchemist in Spanish would have been nice since you said you wanted to
improve yours through reading. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">No card this year and no gift. No way I’m okay with this. How can I
be?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">One bright side is I’m going with my mom to the Happiest Place on
Earth in your honor and in Pop’s. Of all the ways my mom and I are alike, now we share that we have lost our fathers and that sucks. Like I have written, it isn’t
the first time a daughter has lost her father nor will it be the last. It is,
however, the only time your daughter has lost you and therein lies the
singularity. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"> In my chest is a void—an emptiness that only you can fill. It seems
like all of the memories of you and the time we shared have a finality about
them. As though the universe said <i>Only
thirty-four years for us and then done.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I’ve heard the term that death gives life meaning but I believe it’s
love. Love is what gives life meaning. That is the only salvage point in all of
this. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I have good days and I have bad days. On the good days, I crack up
at how you danced or sang or something ridiculously stubborn you did. I remember
the last time I saw you and how you argued with Brian over Kobe, lol. We’re on
the beach in Florida taking pictures and you’re smiling because you’re happy to
see us. I’m smiling because my husband and father are pretending to tackle each
other and spending time together. The man who gave me away is bonding with the
man who received me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">On the bad days, I hear In My Life, the song we danced to at my
wedding. It comes on randomly in the car and my face gets hot. Tears run down
my face. Or I’m at home alone, finding a card you sent me and I suddenly feel
compelled to call or text you. I realize I can’t so I go to your picture in the
kitchen and talk to you. I tell you I miss you, I love you and that I’m sad. I
bury my face in my hands and sob until finally I can breathe again. On the
really bad days, I think about your last days and that is when my chest aches
and I feel like I can’t think or do much of anything. That is when I have to
talk to Brian, my mom, Josie, Rashied or Naje. Those are the times I feel extremely lost and
alone. Those are the dark days, the ones that no one else sees because I just
want to hide in the shadows. This is when I feel I like I’m drowning and no one
can bring me back except time or laughter. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">If I laugh, the shadows fade as a light beam comes through.
Invisible pieces of a bandage decorate my chest and I know that in order for me
to see you again, I must go on. You would want me to live, to live my life and
be happy. That is the third piece of advice I think you would give me. <o:p></o:p>To find you again, I must navigate through the forest of life as I continue making memories with our family and someday with my own children. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">So this Father’s Day, the first one without you, I will try my
best to live. I’ll remember the times I teased you when your accent came
through and you tried so hard to catch yourself but it was too late. I
was already making fun of how you pronounced that particular word and all we could do was laugh. I’ll have fun with
my mom like there is no tomorrow and I’ll find the journal (besides this blog of
course) that I’ll write especially to you in. I will let the tears fall but I
promise to smile and to laugh. I’ll think of those times when I was little and
you picked me up and carried me and I’ll let your memory carry me through. I’ll
be thankful that I had a father and had you as my father. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I’ll picture you
soaring through the universe as an infinite beam of light. I'll imagine your old self
with only the black hair and mustache (before the salt and pepper) sitting down with
Buddha and Jesus saying, “You might not know this but...”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I love you Daddy. </span><span style="font-family: microsoft yahei ui, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Shaharohhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908881744823537543noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1411794779016345101.post-10371120841379237982017-04-19T11:48:00.000-07:002017-04-19T11:48:28.855-07:00Focus<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3wmgtI0rKTRf1p6rN9PAmHsAZZ2Q-4i2BVJOtUDXfZ7t1sZCTYz_ExRWPA4Ce-zbD0azwtKN5ggSmLSp3EUUlwd9zEyAnvN0tQTv9o0MMV9jfF98L5KS3swO7bzaMIrpefV7zIDOlNek2/s1600/Me.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3wmgtI0rKTRf1p6rN9PAmHsAZZ2Q-4i2BVJOtUDXfZ7t1sZCTYz_ExRWPA4Ce-zbD0azwtKN5ggSmLSp3EUUlwd9zEyAnvN0tQTv9o0MMV9jfF98L5KS3swO7bzaMIrpefV7zIDOlNek2/s800/Me.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
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Photo by Brian Chism</div>
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These months are "focus" months. Last year ended in a blur with an arrow straight into my heart. That hole is where the memory of my dad lives and is still raw and healing. When I expect too much of myself - to be in control of the tears or the longing, I remember it's only been almost four months and I let myself grieve. Grief is definitely an ebb and flow of emotions, disappearing into the quiet abyss of everyday life and then flowing back with memories and realizations I swim through. It is the elephant in the room that is invisible to everyone else but me. In between the conversations and laughter, I wonder if I'll ever be okay again. I think I'll be okay again. Right?<br />
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So this elephant that keeps chasing me, I've decided to mount. The repetitive things that an adult must do to function in this world, I have decided to squeeze into the work week. Groceries on Wednesdays, laundry on Thursdays, cleaning on Friday and the like. On weekends, I'm using the elephant to explore the fields of my imagination, happiness and creativity - That Hans Zimmer's Masterclass I got for Christmas, working on another album, puzzling which calms me in a way I never expected, quality time with my husband, family and friends - those are all destinations on this ride. Less stress, less working seven days, more time, more healing of my soul and more smiles.<br />
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Shaharohhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908881744823537543noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1411794779016345101.post-35046190841435149712017-02-17T10:56:00.001-08:002017-02-17T11:06:34.966-08:00Good Night Papa Bear Part II<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirEnVdcF7hc3EcYdd-szGceVZnNulbO7-kgpYflk8Da0JfhEWD9emvcHVmvH3C3jmOGkiL50R8KhDawLawDp3Y7LT71vrgybm1n8mSt7LOW5XT6aEovk-5wzUlNDTwZepLWOLFTfIKsSLr/s1600/shh_sunset.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirEnVdcF7hc3EcYdd-szGceVZnNulbO7-kgpYflk8Da0JfhEWD9emvcHVmvH3C3jmOGkiL50R8KhDawLawDp3Y7LT71vrgybm1n8mSt7LOW5XT6aEovk-5wzUlNDTwZepLWOLFTfIKsSLr/s800/shh_sunset.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
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**Photo by Brian Chism**</div>
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When I was a little girl, my dad and I spent many summer days at Silver Strand Beach. He packed sandwiches and chips for us in a blue backpack and I brought my little pail and shovel in a little bag. It was us versus the ocean. I didn't realize until I was older that my love for the water comes from him. Landscapes and beautiful views connect us because we share a love of reveling in nature's greatness. On top of mountains overlooking valleys, the oranges and blues colliding in a sunset or gigantic trees that teach us patience and respect - all of those things are inside of me because of him. </div>
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So when Brian and I ended up at Pismo Beach for my birthday weekend (where you can actually drive onto the sand with your car which still blows me away) I found comfort in the beauty of the ocean. I thought of my dad and moments with nature that we shared throughout our life together. I felt at peace knowing I wouldn't hear his birthday wish because somewhere in the rolling green hills, the ebb and flow of the ocean, the giant rocks of Morro Bay or in the love that my husband showered upon me - his spirit resonated within my soul. </div>
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I was one with the ocean. One with him. </div>
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The folder with my name on it that I found in my dad's room (<a href="http://www.lifebetweenliving.com/2017/01/good-night-papa-bear-part-i.html">Good Night Papa Bear Part I</a>) after he passed was extremely important. Inside were the lyrics to two songs I wrote and most importantly, the collection of thoughts or journal entries that I made when my grandfather passed away in 2006. After my mom told me what happened with my grandfather, I called my dad to let him know. He was upset, got choked up and had to call me back. When we spoke again I was unsure whether or not I should go to the funeral because of work. My uncle and my mom planned to drive to Missouri so I knew it would take a couple of days to get there and back. </div>
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My dad didn't hesitate to emphasize that this was a no-brainer. I had to be there and family was more important than work. Of course, now that I look back I hate to think that I could have almost let work get in the way of one of the most important experiences of my life but we are all young and naive at times in our lives. Sometimes, all we need are the words of the wise to show us the way. </div>
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I can't remember if we left during the day or at night. I do know that the changing terrains, the changing skies, Radiohead's The Tourist on repeat and the purpose of our trip inspired me to write down almost every thought that came into my head. Watching my mother very closely, I realized that I was there...for her...a daughter and a son from the west driving east to say goodbye to their father. Here are a few excerpts from my journal during that trip:</div>
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<b>May 17 - 22, 2006</b></div>
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<i>The wheels are turning...he brought us here...my grandpa...the bridge...the link between sunrise and sunset...the great tree in the forest. The tie between hermits. The creator of families. </i></div>
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<i>We are all humans first, people second. </i><br />
<i>Come to me humble and I shall welcome you with kindness. </i><br />
<i>Receive me with hostility and we shall dance with swords.</i></div>
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<i>The light is the perfect light to leave against. It is warm and golden.</i></div>
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<i>Everyone deals with pain differently. Although I am a sensitive creature, I cannot run. I prefer to face pain -- let it hit me like a train and the scattered pieces take form. Let it come and fly over me -- an eagle searching for the unknown.</i></div>
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<i>The world I see right now is a blue that holds so much sadness. It is the calm after the storm...though not peaceful. Her face is one of thought, contemplation and reflection. My soul burns every time a tear drops from her eyes -- to live is to share her pain. I am here as a witness..another tree in the forest swaying to a familiar tune. Another set of eyes who appear at the scene observing, watching and remembering. My hand is a cloth for her to use through this unexpected and unexplainable circus. We are all players - all clowns hiding behind human faces. All hurting beneath concealed wounds. </i><br />
<i>All soldiers in this battle of life - ill-equipped and unprepared. </i></div>
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<i>Looking through old pictures, just like my mom did as a girl, I've always felt odd. Like a crayon left outside the box. </i><br />
<i>An alien among aliens. An anomaly. That is why it is vital for me to stand by her side. </i><br />
<i>To be omnipresent in all she does and all I do...for us. </i><br />
<i>Our story will always be one of enlightenment, tribulation, acknowledgement and most importantly <b>love</b>. </i></div>
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<i>(Somewhere in New Mexico) The sky is afire. My heart is restless. The mountains stare at me waiting for my breath. </i><br />
<i>I belong there with my hands reaching for the sky beckoning the sun's kisses. </i><br />
<i>The setting sun reminds me of the patience night holds for day. Darkness waits quietly for its turn. </i><br />
<i>We are those rocks settled next to each other - linked by centuries, ages, eons, forever one with the earth's birth. </i></div>
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Reading these words in my dad's room, time stopped. Finding comfort in my own words was surreal. Then knowing that he found comfort in them and left them there for me invokes a feeling in my chest that I can't truly express in words. <i>Coping with the death of your father through the words you wrote to cope with the death of your grandfather.</i> If you know my dad, then you know that anything he reads, prints out or has lying around is of the utmost importance to him. He was very meticulous about articles, books or any piece of information he found useful. </div>
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When my dad passed away, a daughter and her mom from the west traveled east to say goodbye. With the weight of the world on our shoulders, we did not hesitate to take the soonest flight we could find to be there. There was nothing that would stop me from being with him. </div>
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Daddy, if you can read this and hear my voice, here are a few excerpts from my journal during our trip:</div>
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<b>Dec/Jan 2017</b></div>
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<i>En route...LAX...with mom...is this a nightmare?</i></div>
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<i> The first Christmas I don't make the phone call. The fact that I can't access your voice right away unnerves me. Then I see the ocean and it calms me. Reminds me that where there is beauty - a beautiful landscape, there's our love. </i><br />
<i>We both share a love of nature's magnificence and now that you are uncaged, unleashed, infinite - </i></div>
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<i>you're very much a part of that magnificence. </i></div>
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<i>Summarizing all of those things I couldn't do is like saying I couldn't save you. And the truth is no one could. I wish to God I could have but no one could. Even those who say they could - being saved is a two-way street when someone elects to be saved. I don't know if my presence would have made it easier or harder. Because I would have never wanted to let you go. I would have probably kept you lingering on in misery and pain and that would have been selfish of me and suffering for you.</i></div>
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<i>Better your lion spirit break free with a force stronger than anything on this earth.</i></div>
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<i>Better your lungs expand to hold an infinite supply of breath and ease.</i><br />
<i>Better you smile in the heaven's golden parachutes and </i><i>watch your three kids come together to send you off.</i></div>
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<i>Better you free than caged.</i></div>
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<i>Better you infinite than mortal.</i></div>
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<i>Your birthday was yesterday. I spoke with my mom, Naje, Josie, Rashied and Brian and felt some peace during the day. Then towards the night, the sadness set in again. I miss you. I miss knowing you were there. </i><br />
<i>Like a light beacon on another plane that I knew could always reel me in. And now nothing. Silence. </i><br />
<i>I know that's not completely true as all I need to do is use my heart and mind to feel you and remember. </i><br />
<i>But I can't hear your voice and that hurts.</i></div>
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<i>The solace is that your spirit was so strong. Your stubbornness is probably what kept you alive. What kept you going. </i><br />
<i>Your strong spirit is what I felt inside your room...inside your house...inside the memories. I miss you so much Daddy. </i><br />
<i>I can't even convey the depth of my longing. Especially the first day you left and I begged you to come back. </i><br />
<i>I am looking for so many signs. I see them but then sometimes I slip into despair. Time, I know will makes things simpler and easier as I adjust my life to live without you physically in it. I must find a way to live with you spiritually in it. </i></div>
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<i>Going through our text messages and missing my text buddy. </i></div>
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<i>Your signature <b>luvurdad </b>which I actually found really neat and creative. </i></div>
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<i>I just listened to your voicemail greeting again. </i></div>
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<i>I hope you are laughing, smiling and waiting for us...</i><br />
<i>You are the oldest so you'll have to show us the ropes when we exit this play. </i><br />
<i>When I am old and ready, I will call for you and you will help me adjust to the after life. </i></div>
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<i>You will give me an hour lecture on flying and soaring the heavens and </i></div>
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<i>there we will reside in the sunset...in the sky. </i></div>
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<i>A<b>nd now that you are one with the light I wonder if you'll be my guardian angel. </b></i></div>
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<i><b>I think you are...I know you'll want to protect and shield. </b></i></div>
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<i><b>After all, you are and always will be my father. </b></i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlNbmI1Z4zb-0euUrY6bJeZRrfUkNGAFVlRNKO4vYMUkPjHE4TraqE53ZbBFA_1bUZJWVSiyrBDvIoCX86VROMuV5tTY4wLaT5hpRN8CGBpoG0aLg4KRa8Aip5mZy8pxO3N2FB0i0YNylY/s1600/Mom+%2526+Pop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlNbmI1Z4zb-0euUrY6bJeZRrfUkNGAFVlRNKO4vYMUkPjHE4TraqE53ZbBFA_1bUZJWVSiyrBDvIoCX86VROMuV5tTY4wLaT5hpRN8CGBpoG0aLg4KRa8Aip5mZy8pxO3N2FB0i0YNylY/s800/Mom+%2526+Pop.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
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<i><b>**My mom and my grandfather**</b></i></div>
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<i>**Me and my Papa Bear - 5.1.11**</i></div>
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Shaharohhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908881744823537543noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1411794779016345101.post-79826643924043575252017-01-05T14:31:00.004-08:002017-01-09T16:40:17.678-08:00Good Night Papa Bear Part I <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This isn't a post I wanted to write. I don't think anyone wants to write about the loss of a parent. However, since my dad loved my blog, I am posting this in his honor.</div>
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My dad passed away on Tuesday morning, December 20. It is a day I will never forget. He was sick for a couple of years but we didn't think it was going to happen as abruptly as it did. As his wife told us, one minute he was up and about and the next he was down and gone.</div>
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He lived in Florida. My mom and I flew there to join his wife, my brothers and family to say goodbye. When I entered his house, I could smell him. I could feel his energy and I could sense his presence. I had a hard time being in his room more than anything--even more than the service we had. Like a lost little puppy, I wandered around his place looking for anything that would pertain to me - whether it was a picture, a note, or a letter. When you don't live with your parents or have parents who have separated or remarried, there is that part of you that wonders how they fit you into their new home life. </div>
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I knew my dad loved me. There is no question of that. I know he knew I loved him too. In every conversation we had and every text message, as stern as he was, he never hesitated to let me know that he loved me and I always made sure he knew too. The distance is what was hard. Me living in California and him in Florida. We didn't get to see each other as much as we would have liked to over the years. </div>
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So back to the lost little puppy looking for signs around my dad's place - I found hints here and there - a picture on his desk of me, my brothers and a good friend's grandson when we were little in a frame. The lion stuffed animal I gave him that has a tie that says "I Love My Dad" was also on his desk. The lion has relocated to my purse so he can accompany me on all of my adventures and so I can also hug and kiss him when I think of my papa bear. </div>
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My CD was in his player and he had this very special card I got him next to the stereo. Every year, I always went out of my way to find the perfect Father's Day, Christmas and Birthday card (Dec 28) for my dad. Very rarely did the cards have the right words but usually I got blank cards depicting nature or something quirky and interesting that I knew he would appreciate. The special card that I found was a black and white card with a black cat sitting in bed reading a book and next to him was another book titled "Le chat et nous". I wrote to my dad that he was that cool cat because he read profusely and spoke French. Finding that card touched my heart immensely. </div>
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My mom, who also came, found things just for her. My brothers, found things pertaining to each of them too. My mom says my dad left things out so we could find them. She was right. I later found a folder with my name on it which I will get into in the Part II of this post. </div>
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The one thing I wanted most wasn't there and that was just to kiss his cheek one last time. Or to feel his hands - which were soft in places and hard in others. His crooked pinky from an injury he never went to the doctor for. His furrowed brows which could convey more emotion than the words he spoke (which is saying a lot because my dad could TALK) - I wish I could touch them. His soft black hair and crooked mouth always decorated with a mustache. Hearing him call the nickname he gave me "Boo Bear" or sometimes "Boo Boo" or even hearing myself say "Daddy" and have him answer. </div>
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Yes, even his stubbornness, I'll miss and the excessive talking and always thinking he knows more than everyone else or an unparalleled amount more than his kids. Yes, I'll miss that too because to be my father is to be all of those things - whether good or bad, happy or sad, stubborn or yielding - all of his characteristics that make him who he was and what he meant to me. </div>
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<b>I would never be who I am today without him and I will never be the same without him. </b></div>
Shaharohhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908881744823537543noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1411794779016345101.post-55369314657454259092016-10-31T13:54:00.001-07:002016-10-31T13:54:47.891-07:00Happy Halloween! <div style="text-align: center;">
My Fellow Aliens!</div>
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<br />Shaharohhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908881744823537543noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1411794779016345101.post-42376763625841659072016-09-23T11:58:00.000-07:002016-09-23T11:58:24.280-07:00Autumn Is Here<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Autumn is here and for me that means more sunset chases.<br />
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It's reflecting on the previous months, the upcoming holidays and the new year ahead.<br />
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It's candlelit movie nights and dinners and hearing the wind chase leaves into the air. <br />
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It's wrapping up projects and slowing down.<br />
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It's sitting under a tree at the park and getting lost in a book.<br />
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There's renewal in the shorter days because daylight is precious.<br />
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It's shedding this year's weight and preparing for the opportunity to begin the next year free.<br />
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**<b>photo by Brian Chism</b>**<br />
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<br />Shaharohhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908881744823537543noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1411794779016345101.post-59730445405796860492016-07-22T13:43:00.003-07:002016-07-22T13:43:36.211-07:00What To Say? The up and downs of the world have paralleled ups and downs in my life. Or maybe the ups and downs of the world are the same in my life. I have had things to say but I haven't wanted to say them. The endless cycle of police brutality, death, terrorists attacks, the war of the left and right have left me wanting to shut it off. To shut it away.<br />
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I have asked those who came before me many times if things are worse now then they were then and they say that they're not, it's the access and the frequency of the information that makes it seem worse. These things were always going on, my mother says, it's just that now we're seeing them everyday and they're right in our face.<br />
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Right in my face makes it worse for me. To escape means to disconnect, to turn off, to delete, to log off. There are so many beautiful aspects of the internet that are positive - reading others writing and blogs, discovering new recipes, getting lost on Wikipedia, learning how to do something on YouTube, watching my family and friends' little ones grow up, take their first steps, learn to speak, or friends getting engaged, wedding pictures, hopes, dreams, connecting, the future...<br />
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But the death, the fighting, the disagreements, the arguing, the left, the right, the terrorism, the bombs, the trolling, the disrespect, the bloodshed, the injustice, the murdering, the violence, the bullying, the racism, the intolerance, the disregard for human life, the apathy, the money-driven machines competing to be first to share the heartbreak to the public, the inequality and division on repeat, again and again, click, repeat, post...click, watch, post, repeat...<br />
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Is too much.<br />
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I will never lose faith in humanity even though my faith in people has diminished. I know there's a light and I understand what is precious and how moments with those you love and cherish are the colors that decorate this book of life.Shaharohhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908881744823537543noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1411794779016345101.post-42770422716759249172016-05-21T15:41:00.000-07:002016-05-21T15:41:01.112-07:00Unproductive or Productive Saturday?All morning I've been caught up with blog tweaking. Now that it's 3:34 pm, I'm wondering how I can turn this Saturday into a productive one. I've got laundry, cooking, dishes to do and somehow feel like the day is already over. On the Saturdays when I'm able to get that stuff done, I feel like my blog and writing in general is neglected. How do you manage art and responsibilities? How does one balance writing, letting time pass and then engaging in a mindless task like cleaning the house? <div>
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Inquiring minds need to know.<div>
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I guess I'll start with the dishes and see where that takes me...</div>
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Shaharohhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908881744823537543noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1411794779016345101.post-68680001930571776962016-05-14T22:21:00.001-07:002016-05-14T22:21:55.571-07:00Vegas<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We celebrated our five-year anniversary in Las Vegas like we promised we would. My mom and our good friends Tony and Cherry joined us for a couple of days and we had so much fun. I got stuck at the Roulette table multiple times and found a slot machine with some serious bonuses that kept me occupied. We ate some delicious food and even got to watch our first show, The Beatles Love by Cirque du Soleil, courtesy of Brian's good friend.</div>
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We retraced our steps to the Flamingo chapel where we got married and even had time to explore a few places outside of the strip. It was nice to get away and to remember the cherished memories that our wedding in Las Vegas five years evoked.</div>
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The riddle of it all is that while I feel like I have changed over these past five years, who I am truly inside will always remain the same. And my love for him, although it multiples exponentially each and every day, will always be unchanged, unmoved and unwavering. </div>
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<b>Cheers to love!</b></div>
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<br />Shaharohhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908881744823537543noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1411794779016345101.post-46915816182336330612016-01-22T10:08:00.000-08:002016-01-22T10:08:53.680-08:00Happy New Year!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Yes, it happened. We finally went ice skating during the holidays. Yes, I railed it for the first couple of times around the rink and then I saw my mom zip by me and got enough courage to tread without a safety net. Brian was so great at skating, he whipped and zipped by everyone and of course, came up behind me to scare me a couple of times. Stan played it safe and hung out by the rail but eventually he ventured out into brave territory and danced a little bit.<br />
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(My mom's so cute!)</div>
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When the burning in our legs finally slowed us down, we called it a night. I had a blast and it really made my Christmas holiday feel like the holidays.<br />
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Now it's January and everything is fresh and new. Resolutions are booming and people feel like time has slowed down again. I, for some reason, feel like it's still going by so fast so I am trying to make each day count. My resolutions aren't just for January, they're for the whole year.<br />
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Happy New Year My Fellow Aliens!Shaharohhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908881744823537543noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1411794779016345101.post-50079792960358116022015-12-11T10:30:00.000-08:002015-12-11T13:24:20.101-08:00Hiatus<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I'm on a Facebook and Instagram hiatus for the month of December. This is something I did last year and I found myself really liking the break from the influx that is social networking. I recognize blogging can be seen as a form of social networking but there isn't that influx of information coming at you at lightning speed. It takes time to actually sit there and read a blog. There's a certain pause that comes with commenting on a post. It's not just a quick "Like" which really doesn't say much of anything except give us instant gratification.<br />
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For some reason, I've found myself wanted to "unplug" more often. I've been longing to open up a new book (or an old one I've yet to finish) on the patio. As you can see in the photo above, we need to do some serious raking however, I must say, my cactus is growing rather nicely. There's even a little one making it's way through the pot.<br />
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With "unplugging" comes spending time with Brian, family and friends. We have some changes coming later next year which I am not ready to divulge on this platform yet so this holiday season will be celebrated to the utmost.<br />
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Our new favorite game is Reverse Charades. It is soooo fun and freakin hilarious. I cannot wait to play it again. Instead of one person acting out a clue silently, one person guesses while the other players act out the clue. When you're the one guessing, you have no idea who to watch. <br />
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We're going to make the effort to go ice skating this year. We wanted to go last year but got sick the night of Christmas, ugh. I haven't gone in years and wasn't very good at it. I don't care though, I'll be that one laughing loudly along the rails making slow circles and trying to get up the courage to skate a couple of feet without touching anything. Of course, Brian will be the pro since he played hockey growing up. It'll be neat to see him skate and trying to get me off the rails!<br />
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I'm not sure if I'll write another post before the new year so in case I don't - I hope all of you have a beautiful holiday season and a memorable New Year. <b>2016 Baby! </b>Shaharohhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908881744823537543noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1411794779016345101.post-33816092420693498052015-11-10T12:12:00.000-08:002015-11-10T12:12:04.943-08:00The Show Rocked!Shout out to <a href="http://sandracox.blogspot.com/">Sandra Cox</a> for inquiring about how the show went. You guys really touched my heart with your well wishes. The show was definitely a success. It was sort of a trial to see if we could perform without a whole band and we pulled it off. I sang and played keys and Brian played guitar and bass to the tracks from the album. Our lovely friends held the show in their backyard and I think it was the first time I ever played outside. It was dark so the pictures didn't come out as bright as we wanted but here's one that Brian managed to get:<br />
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Our friend Jonny also performed an acoustic set and watching him perform made me appreciate the talents and gifts my friends and family have. Performing with Brian was such a highlight. Of course, we're married so we share our lives together but being able to share art and collaborate creatively is truly a wonderful thing. My mom, who is a dynamic singer and performer was there also. Seeing her with her camera phone in the crowd made my heart warm when I was on stage. So...I will definitely be looking to book some more shows at the beginning of next year. Things usually slow down for the holiday season and I will be slowing down too.<br />
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I had so much fun with this look. My mom helped me with the hair and the lovely @Jocyjayyy did my makeup.<br />
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Isn't she lovely? I love my mom. This outfit pic below came out too dark but I had to post it anyway because of how much fun it was to rock out, lol.<br />
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And then of course, after the hair comes off, the eyelashes come off, the contacts are out, the pajamas are on and it's time to wash my face and go back to being my introverted self and get some much needed sleep...<br />
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<br />Shaharohhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908881744823537543noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1411794779016345101.post-72212698671525747522015-10-07T14:11:00.002-07:002015-10-07T14:12:30.226-07:00Upcoming Show - November 7!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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If you happen to be in Los Angeles next month, I'm having a show on Saturday, November 7. It will be my first time performing songs from my album Life Between Living (available at <a href="http://www.shaharoh.com/"><b>www.shaharoh.com</b></a>) and my good friend Jonny will be performing an acoustic set. It going to be an adventurous event and I am very excited!!!!!Shaharohhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908881744823537543noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1411794779016345101.post-65080754232759452122015-09-22T10:41:00.001-07:002015-09-22T10:41:52.329-07:00A Time Without<div style="text-align: left;">
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When days had more silence</div>
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No texts, no tags, no likes, no shares</div>
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The feeling of checking my answering machine when I got home</div>
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Not knowing what anyone was doing, thinking or saying at all times</div>
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Getting pictures in the mail of someone's kids </div>
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Not knowing what someone ate, watched, listened to or hated</div>
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Listening to an album all the way through and experiencing its entirety </div>
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Getting letters in class and reading them while walking home from school</div>
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Encyclopedias</div>
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Card catalogs</div>
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Thomas Guides</div>
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Using the white pages to find someone's number</div>
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Waiting for the DJ to announce the band on the previous song</div>
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Spending more time uninterrupted</div>
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Getting locked out of the house and waiting until my parents got home</div>
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When movie stars' real lives were mysteries </div>
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The cacophony of neighborhood kids playing outside</div>
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My voice</div>
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A little bit louder</div>
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A little less drowned out by the outside world</div>
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A little less distracted</div>
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<br />Shaharohhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908881744823537543noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1411794779016345101.post-41673589506505531772015-08-26T09:13:00.002-07:002015-08-26T09:13:52.980-07:00Explosions on Soundcloud<iframe frameborder="no" height="450" scrolling="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/220973007&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_comments=true&show_user=true&show_reposts=false&visual=true" width="100%"></iframe>
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Explosions has been added to Soundcloud. It's my favorite song on Life Between Living. Grab some headphones, close your eyes and dream. Show announcement coming soon!Shaharohhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908881744823537543noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1411794779016345101.post-42576077228940724362015-08-12T14:52:00.000-07:002015-08-12T14:54:02.858-07:00When The Stuffed Animals Disappeared<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I don't remember the exact day it happened but once upon a time my bedroom growing up was this magical place filled with stuffed animals, Barbies, a swing, a Strawberry Shortcake bedspread and all sorts of things a little girl could dream of. </div>
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Then one day, I got one of those teen magazines - like Bop or Big Bopper with teenage pictures of Jonathan Brandis, Eddie Furlong, Kris Kross and a fury came over me. I tore down the ET posters, moved my stuffed animals into the corner and put pictures up around my room of my teen idol crushes. </div>
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I wasn't quite finished with playing with my Barbies - that lasted probably until the end of summer before junior high school but I knew something had changed. I was no longer a little girl and at that time I was very cognizant of this fact and determined to establish my independence and individuality upon the world. </div>
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Kids, eh? </div>
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Shaharohhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908881744823537543noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1411794779016345101.post-49778852471446282692015-08-03T12:25:00.000-07:002015-08-03T12:26:52.947-07:00On FriendshipMy brother and I throughout the years have always had discussions on what it means to be "family" or what it means to be a "friend". These two words have unspeakable power especially in the way we define ourselves as human beings. It is often said that what defines us isn't how much money we have or our status but our relationships and who we are to those we love.<br />
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"Family" is something that most of us are born into and we do not choose who we are related to biologically speaking. As I've gotten older I've realized that I actually can chose who is my family and who is not. I think that is because the closest family members I have are also my "friends" and somehow that meaning holds weight with me above all others.<br />
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For me, a friend is someone who I can confide in, someone who understands me like no other and someone who I can be vulnerable with without being judged or ridiculed. A friend is someone who doesn't expect anything from me because they are my friend and chooses to be a part of my life because they want to be. I've learned that sometimes family members expect to be a part of your life but they do nothing in the "friend" category to deserve to be. This, to me, is why the number of those closest to me continually shrinks as I get older.<br />
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I love the idea that choice is one of the aspects that defines human expression. That is how I see my relationships. The choice may not always be in words but in actions. A person's actions will let me know that they choose NOT to be a part of my life. People who only take and do not give. People who drain your energy and are only concerned about you helping them. People who are more interested in what they have to say then what you do. People who are selfish and self-absorbed. I could go on but those people, family or friend, have no place in my life.<br />
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<br />Shaharohhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908881744823537543noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1411794779016345101.post-58818319944614187332015-07-07T08:58:00.000-07:002015-07-07T08:58:33.673-07:00Away<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLMYA1bpYFTaxpX81o5Wyz143VaQI89NAtm3R3rq7fa_CgOy_IHUNLXhoL-0dsjfTswSpoEbV4FgKflVv1yVHypS2TGNlal45CgK16lJeW-Cp-4vzoYbcoBwtSzmgyY5DQ8g9GH5j6ffYF/s1600/IMG_3681.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLMYA1bpYFTaxpX81o5Wyz143VaQI89NAtm3R3rq7fa_CgOy_IHUNLXhoL-0dsjfTswSpoEbV4FgKflVv1yVHypS2TGNlal45CgK16lJeW-Cp-4vzoYbcoBwtSzmgyY5DQ8g9GH5j6ffYF/s800/IMG_3681.JPG" width="500" /></a></div>
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A last minute decision led us to Big Bear this past weekend. </div>
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We were reminded of how great it feels to just get away. </div>
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We also enjoyed our dearest friends' company and </div>
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the beauty of the lake and the mountains. </div>
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I tried hard to concentrate on being present </div>
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whenever my thoughts tried to run away with me. </div>
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Being away and present is a great feeling. </div>
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Now if I can master that feeling mentally </div>
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without going somewhere physically, I'll be invincible.
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Shaharohhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908881744823537543noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1411794779016345101.post-49401649570915591162015-06-15T11:57:00.000-07:002015-06-15T11:57:04.456-07:00Why Do I? on Soundcloud<iframe frameborder="no" height="450" scrolling="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/209473274&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_comments=true&show_user=true&show_reposts=false&visual=true" width="100%"></iframe>
Check out another track from Life Between Living called "Why Do I?"on soundcloud.com/shaharoh. Shaharohhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908881744823537543noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1411794779016345101.post-16874614047638650572015-06-04T09:46:00.001-07:002015-06-04T09:46:28.541-07:00That's How I Feel on Soundcloud<iframe frameborder="no" height="450" scrolling="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/users/155312648&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_comments=true&show_user=true&show_reposts=false&visual=true" width="100%"></iframe>
Check out the title track on the album "That's How I Feel" on <a href="http://soundcloud.com/shaharoh">soundcloud.com/shaharoh</a> and visit <a href="http://shaharoh.com/">shaharoh.com</a> to sample all of the songs on the album. Shaharohhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908881744823537543noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1411794779016345101.post-54289104715912463052015-06-02T16:21:00.001-07:002015-06-02T16:21:37.605-07:00Live Between Living Album Available NOW @ shaharoh.com<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4mrXf3VPexlD9jjPUZuREkhrFbbuqfhOXm6EWoK-6pB7RQS1vae68CPHeCv8WrKqYj85U4pPznTlbLGNqjXerLCHNmDoEYsHDhD_mzmYOZBWuemnVAhl1tIcs4LoEIcUwWzOg8rzwxql-/s1600/Album+Cover+Thumb+Avail+now.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4mrXf3VPexlD9jjPUZuREkhrFbbuqfhOXm6EWoK-6pB7RQS1vae68CPHeCv8WrKqYj85U4pPznTlbLGNqjXerLCHNmDoEYsHDhD_mzmYOZBWuemnVAhl1tIcs4LoEIcUwWzOg8rzwxql-/s800/Album+Cover+Thumb+Avail+now.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
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My album has been released! Life Between Living is available on <a href="http://www.shaharoh.com/" target="_blank">shaharoh.com</a>. You can also sample the first song on the album "That's How I Feel" on <a href="http://www.soundcloud.com/shaharoh" target="_blank">Soundcloud</a>. Each CD purchase comes with a FREE download of the album. I am beyond fulfilled that this moment is here and thank all my readers for their support! </div>
Shaharohhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908881744823537543noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1411794779016345101.post-37759084792332059772015-05-18T09:11:00.000-07:002015-05-18T09:11:51.152-07:00Album Available June 1st<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Shaharohhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908881744823537543noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1411794779016345101.post-22719498029720958902015-03-22T12:46:00.000-07:002015-03-22T12:46:44.265-07:00Life Between Living: The Album<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Life Between Living, the album is almost ready to be released! Our target date is May 1 which happens to also be our fourth anniversary. This picture was taken when we sent the songs in to be mastered, a process I have never done for any of my other songs. Mastering increases the volume of the tracks without making them sound distorted. It also adds balance and makes the songs sound polished and crisp. Of course, there's more science involved than I understand but I do know that it's a vital process that no artist should skip when releasing a single or an album.<br />
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We are so happy with the way the songs have turned out! Our next order of business is shooting photos, designing the CD artwork and then getting the album duplicated. I cannot believe this is happening and I'm so proud of everything we have done. The team consists of me, Brian and my mom and we have been working diligently to get this music finished and out into the universe. I feel so blessed to have them a part of my life!<br />
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<br />Shaharohhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908881744823537543noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1411794779016345101.post-23337301285683584702015-02-02T10:45:00.002-08:002015-02-02T10:45:26.671-08:00The Charade<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This performance moved me and it's been awhile since a Saturday Night Live musical guest has done so for me. Not only is the message powerful, the chord changes of the song are beautiful and it is inspiring to see D'Angelo take on another instrument and rock out on guitar. There are so many threads of Prince that weave throughout the sounds of The Charade but even though there's a similarity, there's still something new and original that D'Angelo brings to this song and this performance.<br />
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The message concerning <b>#blacklivesmatter </b>and <b>#icantbreathe</b> reminds me of the old days when musicians didn't need anything but music to create awareness about social issues of the world. For this instance, there was no media stunt or paparazzi-fueled hoopla. There was just a collection of talented singers and musicians, playing music from their souls, wearing T-shirts to represent the lost lives of young people who had no voice and no justice.<br />
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I understand more clearly now that true artists and/or artistry cannot be labeled or categorized.<br />
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For me, D'Angelo isn't an R&B Singer-Songwriter/Musician, he is an<b> Artist</b>.<br />
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<br />Shaharohhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06908881744823537543noreply@blogger.com1