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1/7/2022 1 Comment

Missing the Parentals

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I’ve always lived away from family – well, ever since I grew up and left my parents behind. At seventeen I headed south from Erie, Pennsylvania, to Pittsburgh – about two and a half hours away – to go to college. Then I moved with my husband, David, to Rochester, New York, where he attended graduate school. There I worked at the University of Rochester and attended cosmetology school at night. After four years, with David’s Ph.D. degree in his hand, a cosmetology license clutched in mine, and with one kid tucked in the back seat of a van and one in utero, we drove into the sun to San Diego, California. There, David did his postdoctoral work. I volunteered in an elementary school and fell in love with teaching, while my forgotten cosmetology license gathered dust in a file. Next we headed to New Jersey/New York, where we spent the largest portion of our lives, raising our children while David and I each followed our passions – David, science and research, and me, teaching. After thirty-five years, it was time to make another move. We could go anywhere!

We thought of New Mexico and California. We looked in North Carolina. We even wondered about New Zealand, a place of pure beauty that we had visited many years ago. But the draw was not strong enough – not for any of them. Too cold! Too shaky! No family! Too far!

Arizona, we thought! It’s not cold or shaky. It’s not too far from family because many of our extended family members live there – aunts and cousins, nieces and a nephew, and a brother and a sister-in-law. Arizona looked good. It would be fun to finally live near family. We decided that Arizona would be the next stop on our journey of life.

Unfortunately we came too late to spend time with my mother or father. They both lived in Arizona, but their journey had ended. Though they each passed on before we arrived, they are here!

My mother is in Dillard’s, World Market, Sprouts, and Bashas’. She is at 16th Street, and she is at Bethany Home and Camelback and Indian School. She is in Paradise Valley and in the Teepee Mexican restaurant – my favorite. Chimichangas and Cheese Crisps – she always ordered them.

My father is in Pinnacle Peak and Cave Creek. He’s on Tatum Road. But mostly he is at Cold Stone, his, and now my, favorite ice creamery. He loved ice cream, and I inherited that delicious-calorie-craving gene from him. He introduced me to Cold Stone when he first moved here, and I can’t pass it without thinking of him. Sometimes I can’t pass it without indulging in an Irish Cream, Cinnamon Bun, French Toast, Cotton Candy, or Coconut ice cream cone with brownie or caramel or apple-pie filling mixed in. I do it for him. That ice cream exerts an unexplainable magnetic draw.

Arizona is alive with the spirit of my parents. They are around every corner and are never far from my mind. Every day I wake up and think I am … home!

(Clip Art compliments of Bing.)

As I say after each post:

If you enjoy my blog, please pass it on to all your friends and they to theirs. (I’d like to drive up the readership. Sometimes it feels like I am writing in a vacuum. So go ahead. Send it to 10 of your friends.)
If you hate my blog, go ahead and send it to your enemies. (10 enemies would be good.) I won’t mind.  

donna o'donnell figurski - author
Prisoners (print) Amazon US Paperback
Prisoners (eBook) Amazon US eBook
Prisoners (audiobook) Amazon Audiobook
Prisoners (print) Barnes and Noble Paperback
Prisoners (eBook) Barnes and Noble eBook
Prisoners (print) IndieBound
Prisoners (eBook) Kobo

1 Comment

9/9/2021 0 Comments

Football and Princesses

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Most little boys grow up watching football. Many of them dream of being NFL stars. When I was a young girl, I and lots of other little girls wanted to grow up to be princesses. It rarely happened, but the dream was there. (Why don’t boys want to grow up to be dragons?)
 
When you think about it, becoming a princess has little danger attached to it, unless, of course, you meet up with an ugly step-mom, a prince un-charming, or a menacing dragon. But becoming a football player at any stage of a person’s life can cause frightful injuries to one’s brain.
 
Repeated crashes of helmets undoubtedly can cause serious damage to the brain. Players frequently suffer concussions from hits on the field. One concussion can cause serious brain damage, but even repetitive subconcussive hits will cause brain damage over time.
 
Imagine a brain and skull as a blob of Jello encased in a mason jar. Shake the mason jar gently and observe what happens to the Jello. It becomes damaged. If that Jello were a person’s brain, the part that was damaged would affect that person in some way. It could cause physical disabilities, like a balance issue, a swallow disorder, ataxia, vision impairment, and/or many other physical problems. The damage could affect that person’s emotions and/or behaviors. Or it may cause personality disorders, mood swings, memory loss, depleted organizational and managerial skills, learning disabilities, and/or anxiety, to name a few other issues. The possibilities are endless. Any combination of these can happen from a brain injury and will affect a person’s life forever.
 
Most brain injuries are unexpected and happen in an instant. A slam to the head because of a car crash, a trip and a fall, combat, or an assault are some examples. A person can’t prepare for or anticipate this kind of brain injury.
 
But some brain injuries can be predicted. Contact sports are high on the list for expected brain injuries. Football and soccer are right there on the top. So why do we let, even encourage, our youngsters to play these dangerous sports––sports that can affect their lives forever?
 
Need I say more? Well, I could, but I’m going to let this short one-minute video say it for me. I hope you’ll watch it. Hall of Fame inductee and retired starting quarterback for the Green Bay Packers, Brett Favre, speaks out and opposes tackle football for young children.
 
I can only hope other NFL players will join forces with Brett Favre and go even further in keeping our children safe.
 
If boys dream of becoming dragons, like I dreamed of becoming a princess, the quality of their lives would not be at risk.  And the chance of becoming an NFL star is only slightly greater than the chance of becoming a dragon.


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7/26/2021 0 Comments

Reason to NOT Retire!

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Sharing ... the cutest story -

As a teacher, I went between 1st and 3rd grade. So, often I taught the same kids in two different grades.

As I was walking down the hallway, one of my former 1st graders who was in 2nd that year while I was in 3rd. said to me. "Mrs. Figurski, is it true that you are retiring next year?" I told him I was. He then said, "Mrs. Figurski, can you please stay just one more year, so I can be in your 3rd grade?"

My heart nearly broke when I saw his face drop as I told him that I couldn't. Funny thing is - he was very needy in 1st grade and required a LOT of attention, but I loved him dearly. I almost wanted to take back my papers of resignation. As teachers we have tons of wonderful memories.

Any other teachers out there? Share a story.


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7/20/2021 0 Comments

Book of the WEEK!                                                                Prisoners without Bars: A Caregiver's Tale

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LOOK at these great memoir titles I found on a social media site called, We Love Memoirs. Wait!!! WAIT!!! There's my book ––right in the middle. Hey, It's the book of the week. How COOL is that? I hope you will read it and all of the other memoirs there.

After you read it and LAUGH and CRY and G-A-S-P, please write a review. David and I would love to know what you think of our journey. Did our story help you in any way? I HOPE it did. That's why I wrote it

Find Prisoners without Bars: A Caregiver's Tale wherever  books are sold. (OR–– in your library)

Click It! Buy It! Read It!  Review It!

                Pretty Please


Amazon––Prisoners without Bars: A Caregiver's Tale

Barnes and Noble––Prisoners without Bars: A Caregiver's Tale

IndieBound––Prisoners without Bars: A Caregiver's Tale

Kobo––Prisoners without Bars: A Caregiver's Tale



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6/27/2021 2 Comments

Cricket-Love at First Sight

PictureI'm Cricket. I'm 13 years old. And I found my forever-home.



No one, and I mean NO ONE, would have ever thought that a dog would be living in my home. I never had a dog while growing up. I did have a duck named Herbie and a parakeet named Suzy, and, when my kids were little, we had seven hamsters named Bashful, Doc, Dopey, Grumpy, Happy, Sleepy, and Sneezy. (Yep, the Seven Dwarfs!)

When my daughter was little, I almost adopted a puppy from the Humane Society. But I came to my senses when I realized I would be caring for two toddlers who would both wake up too early in the morning.

When my father-in-law got a pup (which he named “Pepper”), I became convinced I’d never have a dog. My father-in-law loved and totally spoiled his dog, and his very spoiled dog loved me. You’d think that would be nice, but it was a nightmare. Pepper would greet me with joyous jumps–more like attacks, I thought. He’d sit near me and pant his foul breath through his dog smile. (That’s a smile I could have lived without.) And Pepper would lick my ankles. My father-in-law called them “kisses.” “Slobberings” was more accurate, and they were disgusting. My feeling about dogs was no secret to any member of my family–who almost all have dogs. So when I announced that I’d just adopted a little dog, no one believed me.

I guess that my burning desire to get a dog came from my spending time with my son, Jared’s, dog, Chama. Chama is a gem. She never attacked or licked me, and she never breathed on me. She is gentle and obedient and loving. I bonded with her. Each summer when we visited Jared and his wife, Emily, I’d get my Chama fix. Then … the pandemic hit. What was I to do?

In April, I threw out the idea to David, my husband, about getting a dog. He said, “Sure,” but I knew he didn’t think I was serious. I was! I spent hours searching. I studied the breeds. Which would be a good fit for us? Not too big. Not too small. Not yappy, but not too quiet either. A shedder? A drooler? Hyperactive? Nope! Nope! And nope! I searched and searched. I saw thousands of photos of dogs–all wanting a home, but none was right for me. Not one! Then one day my friend and I visited several shelters. Surely there was a dog I could love. But no! Not one! I was discouraged. That Sunday morning, I drove to Pet Smart where Chance Crisis Shelter had two dogs that they were trying to rehome.

I showed Chama’s picture to the shelter manager–desperately searching for Chama’s clone. She showed Cricket’s less-than-appealing profile to me. Her photo wasn’t attractive, and she was 13 years old. Struck out again! I thought. Then I noticed a puff of fur with big dreamy eyes padding across the floor towards me. It took only a look to know that I was in love with her. I took her for a walk around the store. I petted her. I gazed into her eyes, and she gazed back. I called       David who was wary about her age. Well, so was I, but I didn’t care. I knew that this dog had to come home with me as my forever-friend. And she did!

Cricket is perfect for me. David loves her too and is happy I found her. All Cricket wants is love, and I have plenty to give to her. How can you NOT love that sweet, little face? Cricket-Love at First Sight


2 Comments

6/15/2021 0 Comments

Out-of-This-World News!

Anyone who knows me well will realize that what I am going to announce is beyond believable.

I ADOPTED A DOG!!!

She (Cricket) is amazing. Though she is old, 13 y/o, she is frisky and so loving. She arrived yesterday and it was instant bonding! David and I both love her. What do you think?
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5/27/2021 0 Comments

Bittersweet is Today!

PictureDavid & Donna Figurski 2018


This is an article I wrote many years ago. It was originally published as Musings by Donna #28 Bittersweet is Today! I hope you enjoy!


            Bittersweet!
It's the mix of heavenly sweetness followed quickly by harsh reality. It’s pleasure mixed with pain. It’s happiness and regret. That’s bittersweet!

Bittersweet is today!

Today – six years ago on January 13, 2005, with no invitation, bittersweet moved in with David and me. He was an uninvited guest.

He ripped David’s and my lives apart. – Bitter!

We won’t let bittersweet beat us. We are building them up again – together. – Sweet!

David suffered a traumatic brain injury. He endured an operation that lasted about 5 to 6 hours. He wasn’t supposed to live – Bitter!

He lived! – Sweet!

David endured two more open-brain surgeries in less that two weeks and slept the sleep of coma for more than that. He wasn’t supposed to live. – Very Bitter!

After several weeks he began to respond to the world around him. He wiggled his toes and blinked his eyes. – Sweet!

For three months he was in hospitals learning to walk, learning to talk, learning to feed and dress himself again – learning to be a part of society. He desperately missed his job at Columbia. He did not know when or if he would ever return. Bitter-very-bitter!

Columbia welcomed David back with an article about him in the newsletter of Columbia University called, In Vivo-CUMC At Large. Very Sweet!

And by conferrring upon him in 2006, at the Medical School Commencement, the Charles Bohmfalk Award for teaching in clinical years. Sweet! Sweet! Sweet!

David still has difficulty walking, talking, swallowing, and seeing. His right arm shakes erratically. He remains a prisoner of his body. Bitter-oh-so-bitter!

He wont let anything get him down. Life has become as normal as it can with all of these disabilities. He exercises to strengthen his body. He works to strengthen his mind. Improvements are being made – slowly, but they come. Sweet!

David has lived six years longer than any of his doctors expectations. Sweet! Oh-so-Sweet!

I have my best friend with me. Sweet! Sweet! Sweet!

Bittersweet move over. There is not enough room in our lives for you.

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5/22/2021 0 Comments

Kaya Sky Stein ~ Bard Berlin, Class of 2021

PictureKaya Sky Stein, Graduate of Bard Berlin 2021
 

     This morning we went to Germany––to Berlin. We didn’t pack our bags, take a taxi to the airport, or spend hours in a metal capsule as it hurtled across land and ocean for endless hours. But we joined folks from around the world, each in our own homes, as together, we celebrated the happiness and accomplishments of our special member of the Bard Berlin Class of 2021.
 
     We watched as our granddaughter, Kaya Skye Stein, received her degree. She didn’t walk across a stage, shake hands with the Dean, and turn to smile and wave at her family in the audience. But we watched Kaya’s smiling face in one of the more than a 100 little ZOOM boxes. We smiled, too, as her photo, complete with cap, gown, and degree, flashed across our screen. We cheered, though she didn’t hear our excited voices. We typed the word, congratulations, in caps, like this––C-O-N-G-R-A-T-U-L-A-T-I-O-N-S, Kaya!!!!! We hope she saw it in all the messages flying in the Chat Box.
 
     College is never easy. But this class faced extraordinary struggles and extreme hazards, with lockdowns, isolations, and professors being ZOOMED onto their personal computers as the pandemic (COVID-19) clobbered the world. Yet, they did it––this strong, amazing Class of 2021, of which my granddaughter is a member.
 
     Kaya, grandpa and I are very proud of your hard work, perseverance, and persistence. We send our love across the land and the ocean to you at Bard Berlin.
 
Love,
Granny and Grandpa


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5/9/2021 0 Comments

Happy Mother's Day!

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Happy Mother’s Day!
 
It doesn’t get better than this.
 
Thank you to my favorite man~my husband and best friend, David.

(The rest of the card is "R" Rated. Sorry! I can't share.)

Tee-Hee!

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5/7/2021 0 Comments

Vocabulary is in the Air

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(
                                                             Living in 3rd Grade ~ Vocabulary is in the Air                                                               
                                                                                              by
                                                                                  Figurski KIDDLES
       (reposted from Figurski Wiki March 22, 2011) (reposted again from Donna O'Donnell Figurski's Blog)


Our language is made up of many words. Some convey the most simple message.

                                                                                                           The dog ran down the street.


Certainly that sentence gives the reader a specific picture, but not a colorful one. It leaves a lot to the imagination of the reader who is expected to fill in the missing parts. The sentence borders on boring.

By playing with words, children are experimenting with ways to make their language more vivid. They use words to create movies in their heads. This will surely result in more fascinating writing that will  jump off the page. In order to accomplish that task, children need to choose more picturesque words. Look at this sentence.

                                            The brown
dog galloped down the crooked street.

It’s more vivid and easily allows a clearer image to be conjured.

I asked my class to play with words. I gave them a set of stimulus words (in bold) and asked to think of more visual words.
Look at their work below.

ran — dashed, raced, rushed, sprinted, zoomed, galloped, bolted
picked — plucked, snatched, yanked, grabbed
jumped — leapt, hopped, skipped
flew — glided
yelled — screamed, scolded, yelped, screeched, hollered, shouted, snapped, barked

For HomeFun, they worked on the following words.
walked --
shook --
said --
laughed --
cried --
washed --
jumped --
chirped --

Go Ahead! Try it!

First let the words spill out of your head. When you can think of no more, head over to the thesaurus.

Please leave a Comment in the COMMENT section.

Feel free to Like my post.

If you enjoy my blog, please pass it on to all your friends and they to theirs.
If you hate my blog, go ahead and send it to your enemies. I won’t mind.

(Clip Art compliments of Bing.)


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    I

    Author

    I am the author of Prisoners without Bars: A Caregiver's Tale. It's the true story of how my husband almost left me--three times.
    He had three brain surgeries in less than two weeks. Those are pretty drastic measures, don't you think? I told him if he didn't come back to me, I would never forgive him. And guess what? It worked. He did!​

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