Monthly Archives: March 2013

Poem: Sheba, My Angel

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Piercing blue eyes,

a shining smile.

Lovable, gentle,

funny, friendly,

caring and protective.

Fear of dogs I lost

Thank you Sheba.

One Spring day

She charged straight

for me. Noble and sweet

she licked me until I

couldn’t breathe.

She hid all her treats

to tease her sister

and watched from her

favorite corner as

sister discovered each

of them.

Loyal friend, daughter,

sister.

Never complained, never

whined.

Ran happily through the

yard.

Sat quietly during the

pain.

Health declined but

never her love

or tenderness.

Her last day, sunny

and bright,

sister, father and I

sat with her outside.

No words, no touch,

just Sheba smiling.

We were all together

one last time.

Dear Sheba, March 31 is

your birthday; you would

have been 70 today.

I know you are running

free of pain up in

heaven with all of

God’s creatures.

Celebrate to your heart’s

content; you deserve

the very best.

Boy, is God lucky right

now. He has you back.

Copyright © 2013 Author Mayra Bitsko. All rights reserved. All work, images and videos on this site (otherwise stated) are the sole property of Author Mayra Bitsko and cannot be reproduced without written consent of the owner.

RIP My Darling Sheba

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Words cannot describe how your dad and I feel right now. It feels like it was yesterday that daddy brought you home. You helped me lose my fears in dogs. You charged for me – one spring day – and I froze in panic. You knew I was afraid so you gently jumped on me showering me with kisses. You almost drowned me with your licks. LOL! I could not have been happier.

You took care of daddy and daddy took care of you. Do you remember all those times – typical of a husky – that you ran away from home? It took hours for daddy to find you. But when he did, he would find you hanging out by the school playground, park or any place where children were. You simply adored kids. One November blizzard day you ran away from home, and we believed that we lost you forever. A car hit you and you couldn’t run anymore, which was the only reason daddy found you resting in a foot of snow by a children’s daycare. Each time you ran to explore, God granted us the miracle of finding you again. You were meant to be with us.

We never forget when we brought Alexis home, I thought you were going to eat her; she was so tiny. I always told daddy to lock her in the cage while we were out for a few hours. I was afraid you didn’t like her. You did give her a look. But I was terribly wrong. You unlocked the gate every time and daddy would find you both curled up together. You loved Alexis and took care of your little sister even when she stole your treats. Alexis loved and will always love you.

Sweet Sheba, I can’t express how I admire your strength to fight against epilepsy, cushions disease, arthritis, and cancer – all at once. Vets only predicted two months for you to live, but God allowed us three months with you. You have no idea how grateful we are.

We are hurt that we put you to rest especially two days shy from your 70th birthday, but we could not see you suffer any longer. You couldn’t walk because your tumor in your stomach was too heavy for you to carry, and the breathing took all the energy right out of your skinny little body. You turned so very ill. It would have been selfish of daddy and I to keep you alive while you were uncomfortable and in pain.

We are content that you are in heaven with all the other angels and sitting by God’s side. You are no longer in pain. You are in heaven so run free and shine that smile – the one you always shined on us.

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Poem: My Father in Heaven

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Many have a vivid memory
of their childhood memories
with father dearest
I only have a few

Warm hugs, tender kisses
Words of comfort, words of healing
A gentle hand, loving smile

Laughing and joking
Hard-worker and dedicated
Imperfect but tried

After school early dinners, a little girl
running down the hill into his arms
Don’t run, you will fall
Father worried

Departures and goodbyes
I never understood why
Where did he go? Why did he go?

Misunderstood, criticized, misjudged
an ugly illness, He faced it alone.
Painful call one January day
killed it all; God has called father after all.

Many turned their backs, denying a young
child a final farewell. No one cared but only
two; the two who wished for a helping hand.

What I would give for one last hug and
one last tender kiss, holding his hand
whispering the words everything will be ok.

You are with God; you will never suffer again.

This is my first poem attempt. It is very personal and meaningful to me. I hope you all like it. :)

Copyright © 2013 Author Mayra Bitsko. All rights reserved. All work, images and videos on this site (otherwise stated) are the sole property of Author Mayra Bitsko and cannot be reproduced without written consent of the owner.

A Day Without Writing

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Well, this post has nothing to do with writing. I simply feel like sharing my day with you all.  ;)

Today I took a risk with my hair – and chopped 6 inches off. A lot of people were surprised to see me with shorter hair.

BEFORE

old pic of me

AFTER

new haircut

I will admit – I miss my long hair! However, I felt a need for a change. Change is good. Many couldn’t believe I went through with it, but they liked it. I needed this. I’m sure it will grow back real soon.

Then I return to work. I am about to charge my iPhone (I was socializing on the phone while my hair was getting done), and out of nowhere my phone freezes and wipes out my entire phone. No emails, no contact information, no pictures – nothing, nada. I couldn’t believe it. I stared at the phone in dismay. I never thought of backing up my information. I had to harass everyone for their numbers and emails. It’s so annoying. I learnt my lesson well. Tonight will be the night I back up my iPhone. Silly me!

I was almost running out of time to catch my regularly scheduled bus. Luckily, I made it and anticipated a comfortable and quiet ride. Ah, it didn’t turn out that way after all. The bus was almost in an accident because some fool in a Camry decided to cut off the bus. Now what would encourage a driver in a small vehicle to cut off a huge bus. I do not understand that, and I guess I never will. Since the bus driver stopped abruptly, we all jumped forward and back in our seats. My elbow, knee and neck felt pain, but it could have been worse.

I was happy to arrive in my area in one piece. I waited for my husband at the bus stop for a longer time. It turned out the car would not start. He tried contacting me via text and phone, but I didn’t receive anything. My phone was out to get me today. Finally, hubby picked me up and we headed to our favorite spot – Dunkin Donuts. We ordered our coffees, headed home and took care of our fur babies, Sheba and Alexis – among other things. To finalize the work day, we took some time to enjoy the beautiful full moon from our backyard.

wm moon backyard

Well, tomorrow I’m back to my writing. I miss it all ready.

Prisoner Of Love: Book Review

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Prisoner Of Love – by Eugene Fagnano

Publication date: January 1, 2013

To Purchase

poflifeThis story begins in 1945, with how I first met My Love. She was only 15, and I was 17 years old. It’s a story about how we met, and how a song had a profound effect on our lives. It is also about how our undying love for each other survived the many obstacles we endured in our early years. We had an unusual start, some touching moments, and a very emotional and somewhat surprising ending. These memories are too precious not to be shared.

Prisoner Of Love was an easy, enjoyable and gratifying love story. The very first sentence grabbed my attention immediately. This story depicts the intense love Eugene had for his wife – My Love as he referred to her throughout the novel. Eugene and My Love met when she was 15 and he was 17 at White Castle in Hoboken, New Jersey. It was love at first sight for Eugene. They faced many obstacles – World War II, My Love was too young to date, when she was of age, they had to keep their love a secret from her father – among other things. Once they were given the blessings to marry, their marriage was truly a fantasy regardless of the hardships. The couple made their marriage and family a dream come true. With their true love and respect for one another, they made the impossible possible.

I’m such a hopeless romantic, so this story was definitely in my wheelhouse. If you are a hopeless romantic as I am, then I recommend this love story. Eugene’s story was quite inspirational. Perhaps this story can make a positive impact on couples facing difficult moments in their relationships.

Rating: Excellent

When Music Influences The Writing

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I blogged on how music influences my writing a couple of times before. Nevertheless, it’s a topic that should be revisited as many times as possible. So, here I go.

Music is a HUGE part of my writing. When I first drafted my short story, I had Huey Lewis and the News playing in the background. When I was writing, I couldn’t have any other music playing. There was something in their music that triggered certain scenes and dialogue in my story. Since my short story was inspired by someone very close to me who happens to enjoy their music as well, I felt it was the right move.

Well, my second novel – inspired by a strong woman I love deeply – has been influenced by

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The power of these songs fit like a glove. I remember hearing these songs back in the day – the days I plan to recreate in my novel. It’s almost living the good and bad all over again. As odd as it may sound, I like the idea of going back in time.

In my opinion, I find it amazing how lyrics and the passion in the singer’s voice can develop such a positive influence in my work or in my everyday life for that matter. I always wonder what would life be without music.

Writers: What Do You Fear Most?

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As a writer, what I fear the most is the thought of never again developing a story worth writing. What happens if I draw a complete blank – forever? All writers suffer from writer’s block; but sooner or later something clicks, and the writers get back on track. But, never coming up with another story line is pretty scary.

My mom and I had a discussion about my work last weekend, and she asked me from where do I get all of my ideas. I explained that everyone and everything surrounding me has potential to become a story worth writing. Then, I get to thinking later that evening – even though there are so many things happening around me – what will become of me if I cannot draw up enough details for a novel or even a short story? I haven’t experienced that yet, and I hope not to ever experience it. However, the thought will always be in the back of my head.

Currently, I have a list of possible short stories and novels. Some may see the light and some may not. Nevertheless, I strongly believe I’m good for a while. But when the list runs out, will I be able to replenish my list? I truly hope so. If not, I’m in trouble. :( In the meantime, I shall try to put this fear behind me and not allow it to fog my vision of creativity.

Writers, I’m curious to know what do you fear most.

It Arrived: The Physical Proof of My Short Story

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It finally arrived – the physical proof of my short story. I was so excited to see the UPS man deliver it to me this afternoon. I wasn’t expecting it so soon. Anyway, as soon as I received it, I ripped open the box and immediately began reading. I must say I am a pretty cool writer….LOL!

I enjoyed the story and so did my husband. It took my husband months before reading my first book A Second Chance, but this afternoon he asked to read the proof to the short story. He was smiling by the time he finished the fifty pages. Hubby was of great help. He was the extra set of eyes I needed to assist me with editing the proof. I made my share of corrections and deletions, and he joined in. He was extremely insightful.

Tonight I will send the editing team my corrections and deletions. I hope by the end of March the short story will be ready for publication. I get super excited to see my work out there. I may not have representation – an agent – but at least I have the ability to share my work even if I’m doing it on my own.

By the way, since I am superstitious, I will post the cover and name of the story once everything is good to go. ;)