Posted in Reflections

Globfly’s 43rd-Month Angelversary

Today marks Globfly’s 43rd-Month Angelversary—three years and seven months since he relocated to heaven on 12/17/18.

As I thought of Globfly, I got nudged to honor his memory with a homemade strawberry milkshake. Because it was such a gorgeous summer day, that’s what he would’ve made. Making it for him today put a smile on my face as I reminisce him standing right where I stood and observing him adding the ingredients into the Blendtec. Strawberry was his favorite milkshake, and NOM, it was so yummy. He would have approved. It was delish.

Cheers to you, Markie, a nice cold strawberry milkshake just like you liked it.


Posted in Reflections

Globfly’s 42nd-Month Angelversary

Delayed Posting on July 17, 2022.

Today marks Globfly’s 42nd-Month Angelversary—three years and six months since he relocated to heaven on 12/17/18.

One of the things Globfly enjoyed was apple pie, and since today is National Apple Strudel Day, he’d be pleased that I am honoring his memory with apple pie. He wasn’t fancy to strudel. Fine by me.

Now, it wouldn’t be the same if I didn’t add my personal touch to this treat, now would it? Remember, I’m always looking (even now) for new goodies that Globfly might like? Guess what I found? Snickerdoodle ice cream! Yes! You read that correctly. Here’s the caveat, it isn’t regular ice cream but a compromise. (He was real ice cream. not me.) I would’ve dolloped it on and let him marvel over the Snickerdoodle flavor. Then after he smacked his lips and nodded his head, I’d move in for the win and reveal that it was “So Delicious” cashew milk ice cream.

Yeah, I know. The games people play. You have to admit. It works to get some folks to try something new. Globfly was a trooper. Sure, he’d resist, but he’d do it for me.

The bottom line was he relished Snickerdoodles. So, he would indeed enjoy this ice cream. It was my first time trying So Delicious ice cream, and People, IT’S DELISH!

Man, Markie, you would luv it! I know it! I owed you apple pie. You know I’d make good on it, eventually. So, here’s to you, Globfly. What better day than today to deliver, right? Happy National Apple Strudel “Pie” Day! Yes, hon, for you, I eat apple pie a la mode!


Posted in A Moment in My Life

“It Took a Tumble”

A Moment in My Life – Monday, May 23, 2022

Jeannie Yee Davis

Old habits are so darn hard to break. I keep working on it, and this is one of those areas where my success is one step forward and two steps backward. It doesn’t help that I’m always in a hurry. I have so much to do that I won’t run out of tasks even if I’m the Energizer Bunny 24/7. There are pros and cons to being energized. Pros are getting tasks checked off the list and feel good that I’ve accomplished something that will improve an area of my life. I can sum up the cons with an accident waiting to happen.

With accidents, you never know what, how, or when it might happen. That’s why they call it an accident. On Saturday morning, I had one of those so-called accidents when I moved a bit too quickly back up the stairs to my office. This time, I can’t blame it on the music piping through my ears distracting me. I was simply in a hurry to get back to my desk with my breakfast smoothie. I had two conversations happening online, multi-tasking with my morning writing. Words filled my mind, waiting to hit the page before I forgot them. 

In a flash, it didn’t matter what I was thinking. I forgot them when I landed at the bottom of the stairs with one slipper still on, and the other sailed away with the floor mat beneath me. My smoothie remained obedient in its cup like a torch in my left hand as my right shin kissed the edge of the second step, and my right forearm slapped the edge of the fourth step. Of course, they had to land on the edge where it would hurt the most. I took turns rubbing my shin and forearm, telling them not to stress out. I don’t know. It was wishful thinking that if I talked down the injured areas like a mother soothing a wounded child, it would lessen the hurt. It eased the pain, but not on my pinky, which got into the action somewhere between and swelled, reddened, and throbbed. That scared me. I repeatedly applied BioFreeze on it, took down the swelling, and lessened the pain.

My technique worked. There is no residue, not even a bruise, of my fall, but this wasn’t the first time I slid off that mat, and I’m sure it won’t be the last unless I make a change. This time, I seriously considered getting rid of that mat. It should be a no-brainer and an easy peasy thing, but it was not easy for me. Removing it meant letting go of a part of my life with my late husband, Mark, because it was a mat with a “D” on it, making it personal.

In the past, it would’ve been a no-brainer. I would’ve decided on the spot and told Mark that we were tossing the mat. Period. But today, I am feeling guilty for wanting to dump it. It was a gift from one of Mark’s judo students, making it harder to let go. I hem and haw back and forth with yay and nay. So, I removed the rug that morning to see if I could let it go. And, you know what? I didn’t miss it, and I liked not having a mat at the bottom of the stairs. To make it easier, I reminded myself that this was just a gift that we received, and we found a place for it—not something that Mark and I had chosen together. Had I told Mark my plan, he would’ve said, “Fine by me. No skin off my nose.” And with that, I finally felt okay to toss it. It’s just one small floor mat, but the act felt like a load off my shoulders. It was a step towards changing an old habit of letting go. You never know what might happen to orchestrate a necessary change until it happens. For me, it took a tumble.

Posted in A Moment in My Life

“The Tennessee Waltz”

A Moment in My Life – Friday, May 20, 2022

Jeannie Yee Davis

Just when I thought the past was buried and gone, never to be seen or thought of again, then Patsy Cline mournfully belts out her story of heartbreak. My fingers froze over my keyboard. My eyes stared inwardly into my mind’s eye as Patsy’s sweet voice deposited her sad story in my ears. 🎶 “I was dancing with my darling to the Tennessee Waltz. When an old friend I happened to see. I Introduced her to my loved one, and while they were dancing, my friend stole my sweetheart from me. I remember the night and the Tennessee Waltz. Now I know just how much I have lost,”🎶 and a choke tightened in my throat as memories unleashed an old familiar story from the dusty archive of my mind that I couldn’t ignore.  

It wasn’t “The Tennessee Waltz,” but it was a dance with songs like “Lady,” “Being With You,” “Woman,” “Slow Hand,” and “Keep On Loving You” that glistened under the disco ball. I happened to see my friend just like in the song, and I introduced her to my guy. Unlike the song, they did not dance. For some reason, she needed a ride home, and I did what a good friend would do. I begged my boyfriend for a favor. He didn’t say, but his face grimaced with displeasure. Yet, he agreed to give her a ride. Despite my gut feeling, I was delighted and grateful to have such a sweet boyfriend who would give my girlfriend a ride without complaint. He seated her in the backseat of his Celica hatchback and me in the front passenger seat. His unusual quiet filled the cabin with a dismal chill of silence that rendered me unsociable. 

To my surprise, my boyfriend drove me home first. I was too stunned and shy to ask why. Maybe it’s just me, but I expected him to drop her off first before taking me home. The clicks from my heels tapping on the ground replaced unspoken words on our brief walk to my door. We stood a foot apart and stared into each other’s eyes on the porch, searching for answers to different questions that never got asked. He leaned in and softly kissed my forehead and said, “Goodbye.” I watched him turn and walk away as if in slow motion, and the scene faded into the fog as they do in the movies. I have no recollection of what happened after that. I never heard from or saw him again. I have to give him credit that he did say, “Goodbye.”  

I saw my girlfriend in school from time to time. She didn’t have to say anything to confirm my suspicion. I knew. She smelled of his shampoo. We remained friends into early adulthood, but we never spoke about the elephant in the room. Eventually, we three went our separate ways. I say this because she married some guy I don’t know. And, you probably figured it out, she is not one of my BFFs. 

It’s sad. I can forgive pretty much anything, but I need words. I need to understand. Neither he nor she gave me the respect of answers, and that’s sad. It tells me a lot about their character. He was my first ghosting before I knew about ghosting. It would have been nice had he told me what wasn’t working, even if it were the dreaded, “It’s not you, it’s me,” or “I’ve fallen for someone else,” or “this is not working for me,” or whatever. At least give me the respect to know that we were breaking up and why instead of just saying goodbye. And now, I know just how much I have lost—nothing, unlike she did in “The Tennessee Waltz.”

Posted in A Moment in My Life

“Too Many Memories”

A Moment in My Life – Tuesday, May 17, 2022

Jeannie Yee Davis

Not everybody likes purple. For years, I was a closet purple lover. Donny Osmond was the only person I knew who openly owned his love of purple. I love Donny, but I wasn’t brave enough to stand on this side of the closet door. Did it make it right or wrong? Who’s to say? There is no right or wrong answer to this color question or pretty much for anything else that requires a preference, including memories. Who has enough clout to determine what and how many memories we should have on this planet? 

I want to know. Why? Because someone asked me this question recently. He asked me when was the right time to offload his wife’s things that he had tucked away after her passing. I didn’t feel qualified to give him advice when I had everything of my late husband’s right where he left them. 

A couple of months after Mark’s passing, I met with my high school girlfriends, who, in their attempt to console me, one suggested that I needed to move away. My mouth dropped, and I nearly fell off my chair at the food court as I blurted out, “Why? Why do I have to move away?” She said because there were too many memories. Her words slapped me in the face. I had been fighting PTSD, which left me an empty slate. I struggled to recall the teeniest memories with Mark, jotting them down as quickly as the memory returned before they vanished again. So, hearing her suggest that there were too many memories felt like she punched me in the stomach and flipped my insides out.

That lunch was a learning one since I was the first widow in our group, and we were having our minted discussion of the kind. And, it made sense why she suggested such a disturbing idea. For her and her husband, death was final. Once the person is gone, they no longer exist. There will be no service, no burial, no pictures, or anything except a cremation. They will destroy any footprint of their existence, and there will be no mention of them again. Life moves on for the survivor. I left that gathering heavyhearted with a dismal sadness, but I finally understood why she did not attend Mark’s Celebration of Life. Her way wasn’t easy to fathom, but who was I to judge? 

There is no right or wrong way. We don’t have to agree, but we need to understand where we are coming from and bridge the gap. It is essential to communicate and share our feelings and thoughts, which helps to respect each other’s views. Some might want to forget all or select memories, while others don’t want to forget a smidgen of memory. Some people remove all personal effects even before the funeral.

In contrast, others tend to these months to years later or never at all. I’m glad there is no one-size-fits-all to address this. Same with mourning. There is a time to mourn and heal, but the healing needs to happen. It is imperative that we eventually move on and live and live fully. Life is not a dress rehearsal. Every moment we remain in mourning, we are not living. 

I told my friend that he would feel it when it was the right time for him. Until then, nobody decides for us when it is time to move on or that we have too many memories.

Posted in Reflections

Globfly’s 41st-Month Angelversary

Today marks Globfly’s 41st-Month Angelversary—three years and five months since he relocated to heaven on 12/17/18.

One of the things Globfly enjoyed was Taco Tuesday. I was oblivious, but he kept track. National Taco Tuesday isn’t until October 4th, but since Globfly’s Angelversary lands on Tuesday this month, I’m gonna make this Taco Tuesday. He would love it. 💜

Globfly, I meant to join you on Taco Tuesday one day, and I tend to keep my word. So, better later than never. Here’s to you, Globfly – Happy Taco Tuesday!


Posted in A Moment in My Life

“Where Are They Now?”

A Moment in My Life – Monday, May 16, 2022

Jeannie Yee Davis

I’ve been nostalgic after my marathon phone chat with my BFF, who moved away from the bay area over twenty years ago. We talked and talked and talked as if there were no years between us, but we were catching up on our hectic week. That’s what close girlfriends do. The long chat made me miss her more. If we lived closer, we would most likely be popping into each other’s homes. Or we’d probably have each other’s key. Twenty years is a long time. The beauty of these years is when a friendship can survive the test of time. In this case, we survived the years, scheduling future marathon calls on our calendars. We also began planning a trip together. Oh, such exciting times ahead!

Thanks to Facebook, I reunited with my best friend from elementary school, and we are FB friends today. She is as beautiful a person as she was sweet when we were kids, and she has an equally lovely family—just having her in my life again overfilled my heart with joy.

Not all relationships resulted in happy endings, which got me thinking about some of the people from my past who made an impression on me, but we never saw each other again once we parted. Occasionally, they pop into my mind, leaving me wondering about them. 

In second grade, a little Italian boy named Luciano was not only oh so handsome, but he was extremely mature, intelligent, very well-behaved, and super polite and friendly. One day, Miss Roberts announced his extended absence due to a tumor growing in his brain. Tumor? What’s a tumor? I imagined a little tree growing out of his head. I never saw the tree or anything for that matter. Luciano never came back to school. A week later, he passed away. I never forgot him. I wonder what he would’ve been like today. I imagine he would’ve had more FB friends than anybody I know. I still miss him.

Suzie, the rebel in my fourth-grade class, scared me straight of any future wrongdoings I might have considered. Thanks to her constant backtalking that ended up with a leather strap across her bottom and tears streaming from her eyes, I never got into trouble. I wonder what became of her. I hope she used her rebellion for good and not for harm.

Remember when two team leaders chose players for their softball teams? I sucked at sports regardless and was always one of the last kids chosen when there was no other choice. Boys took their sport seriously, and some of them threatened to beat me up because I missed the ball. Out of nowhere, my hero, Donald, the tough guy with a soft heart in sixth grade, blocked the mean boys and talked them down, saving this damsel in fearful distress. As a kid, I didn’t know to thank him properly, but I never forgot him. I often wonder where he landed. I hope he is doing well. Maybe one day I’ll get to thank him.

Do you ever wonder about people from your past? I do. I get nostalgic and often think about them. I moved around growing up, which made it harder to stay connected, but I hold people close to my heart. Wouldn’t it be nice to reconnect with people from your past? I would love it, but I haven’t been fortunate in finding them, so all I have are memories and my curiosity that leaves me wondering, where are they now?

Posted in A Moment in My Life

“Would You Want to Know?”

A Moment in My Life – Friday, May 13, 2022

Jeannie Yee Davis

You may have heard of the old proverb, “Curiosity once killed a cat,” which was intended as a warning to avert unnecessary curiosity. A quote from the movie Finding Forrester always pops into my mind. “It’s not a soup question,” which means you don’t need to know since it’s not personal to you (my paraphrase). I tend to be over-curious, but not enough to get myself into trouble, which leaves me hanging and wondering because it’s not a soup question.

The other day in my morning devotional reading, the subject of how much time we have left in our life surfaced. One thing led to another, and the next thing I read made the hairs on my skin shoot straight for the moon—a suggestion to check out, which is supposed to tell you your exact expiration date. Whoa! Like Gallagher would say, “Totally new concept!” How is it possible for anybody or any device to determine our D-date? Is it real? 

I wasn’t sure what to think or what to do at that moment. A part of me wanted to run as far away from my screen as possible, while the other part took it as an adult and did not let on that it made an impression on me one way or the other. Sure, I’ve been curious often, but that was as far as my curiosity goes. I did absolutely nothing about it, just like now.

It’s such a bizarre concept that I’m even nervous going near the link, fearing touching it and accidentally spinning the cycles toward the end of my lifespan. Honestly, for a 16th of a second, I considered the idea of maybe wanting to know. It wasn’t even wanting to know but the possibility of wanting to know. Then, the practical me woke up. 

What purpose does it serve to know? I could see learning the gender of an unborn child, which makes preparing for their arrival that much smoother. That’s logical and practical, saving on returns and exchanges and having neutral themes and color schemes and two lists of names. But what good would come from knowing the number of days we have left? 

If knowing my expiration date would spur me to achieve my life goals by D-date, that might be worth knowing. What if, however, I learn that I have very little time left, and there was no way I could accomplish everything or even anything? That would be depressing and a killjoy. But, the long and short of it, knowing me, the answer would not serve me well. Regardless of the amount of time on my dance card, I would internalize it and spend way too much of my precious time pondering the results instead of living my life fully and joyfully.

There was a time when I thought I would want to know. Contemplating the opportunity in my face, I realized I’d be better off not knowing and just living my life day-by-day, thankful to wake up to see another sunrise. It’s more meaningful to have the peace of living today as if there is no tomorrow while dreaming and trusting tomorrow will never end. In other words, enjoy life’s journey one day at a time with a heart filled with hope that anything is possible. In my opinion, it doesn’t matter the end date because some things are better left undisclosed. What about you? Would you want to know?  

Posted in A Moment in My Life

“A Scary Thing Happened to Me”

A Moment in My Life – Thursday, May 12, 2022

Jeannie Yee Davis

Wise people toss advice at us left and right, going in one ear and out the other. Particles of their words fell behind like stardust sprinkles affixed to our minds and revived when we least expect it. Like the other night, after posting my column, I turned on the TV. The Dubs and Grizzlies were warming up for NBA game 5. I scrambled to heat my breakfast for dinner and pitter-pattered to my makeshift dinner table, or if you prefer, the coffee table in front of the TV. With eyes trained on the screen, not missing a move, I plopped onto the toss pillows on the floor, picked up my fork, and began woofing down my food. 

I hungrily bit into the Beyond breakfast sausage, alternating between kale and cremini scramble bites and the whole-wheat English muffin. Remember the advice not to watch TV while eating your meal, or the part about not rushing, eating slowly, and paying attention to what you’re eating? That was good advice had I heeded the warning.

I’m not sure what happened, when, or how, but something went down the wrong pipe. Like it or not, my body threw itself into a coughing fit—its survival mechanism to dislodge the alien, foreign object. At first, I was not alarmed, I’ve done this before, but since my status quo changed, I attentively made a point NOT to let myself be in this predicament again. Even the best-made plans go haywire if you’re not paying attention. I’ve luckily always been able to remedy this kind of situation. This time, however, for a scare, I wasn’t so sure.

Momentarily, I wasn’t even sure where the obstruction was since I was coughing so violently. I panicked. I sprung upright and began pacing, hoping for relief with every cough. It wasn’t happening. More water did not improve my situation. I still could not feel where the debris was. Now, I was alarmed. I’ve never had it this bad. I always knew where the culprit was, giving me an idea of how to dislodge it. A thousand thoughts rippled through my mind, including how they would find me. You know how people say, “my life flashed before me”? I went down that path for a smidgen of a flash. 

I replaced those melodramatic, unhelpful thoughts with what I recalled from choking scenes. Initially, it felt hopeless without another person. It’s so dreadfully scary being alone when you’re choking. I can entertain the idea of having an iRobot standing in the corner, waiting for activation at a time like this. Sans that option, I quickly had to think before becoming a statistic. I reached back as far as I could and slapped myself on the back. Oops, not a good move! Now I know where the object was—right smack at the center stage of my windpipe.  “Houston, we have a problem!” I just blocked my windpipe!

I can still breathe but cannot squeak a sound! Slapping again made it worst. It was freaking me out! I banged on my chest—no go. I tried to make a sound—nothing. I was still breathing—a good sign. I gently tapped on my chest. Kept breathing. I kept testing for sound. Gentle tappy-wappy on the chest helped, giving me the idea of vibration. So, I kept tapping and included vocal warmups in various ranges, which shifted the object. Little by little, my voice strengthened. The audio vibration moved the object along, and I live to sing another day and tell you about the scary thing that happened to me.

Posted in A Moment in My Life

“Moments in Time”

A Moment in My Life – Wednesday, May 11, 2022

Jeannie Yee Davis

The U-Haul truck slowed to a stop across the street. I lifted myself taller, peering out the window, inquisitively surveying the possible destination of the U-Box. I confirmed my suspicion that my neighbor was going through with his plan a moment later. Two years ago, he mentioned they were thinking about downsizing, and now it appears that it was time to act upon it. This realization tugged at my emotions. I’m not a fan of change, even if it’s not personal. The funny thing is that I am changing every day, in small, subtle ways, which I can handle. The big changes? Not so much. However, God has already given me many significant challenges, and I survived them. Maybe I need to rethink that.

Anyhoo, I like this neighbor. Over the years, we’ve become friendly, which is unusual for this neighborhood where everybody comes and goes behind their steering wheels. At most, we offer each other a wave of the hand and a warm smile as we pass by. Life has a way of keeping us distant from one another where we could go years without interaction. Still, the thought of them moving away chokes me up. They have been here for over a decade and a half. We had many moments of sharing and getting to know one another, but only when our paths crossed. We have each other’s contact information, but I seriously doubt we’ll stay in touch.

There is a time for everything. People come, and people go. That’s the unofficial rule. Contrary to my desire, we can’t expect anything to stay the same. The only takeaway from life is moments. Everything we do is a moment in time. Nothing lasts for long. People toss the word, forever, around like a ball. I am guilty as charged. Nothing is forever in this universe when you get down to the nitty-gritty. There is an eternity, but not until we reach heaven. Until then, all we have are moments in time.

I took my wedding  vows seriously. Forever meant until our ticket to heaven. Alas, a marriage is only forever as long as both shall live. Meaning we should cherish every moment we have together for what it is worth—no more, no less. Tomorrow is not guaranteed. 

The same goes for all relationships. We have no control over what the future holds. Plans change. People go their separate ways, willingly or not. This uncertainty has taught me to make the most of every opportunity to live well and spend as much time with the people I love. I’ve had people laugh at my 3.5-hour lunch or phone call. But why is that funny? I love being with my peeps. 

There is never enough time to be with everybody, but I will make the most of it. With the pandemic looming over us, safety is imperative but social media and the good old phone have allowed me to stay in touch with most people. If I can connect with my peeps, that’s all that matters. My peeps float my world. As long as we continue to create moments in time that will last for eternity, as we know it, I’m a happy camper until we can meet in person and share grub and a hug and converse face-to-face. Time and space may separate us, but we will always have moments spent together wherever we go. I don’t take that for granted because moments are a gift from above. In the end, all we have are moments in time.