Bedoor Bluemoon

Everyday writing to expose the soul



Dignify our Elders



When you think of old age, you either think of someone else or of a funny meme you saw online of an elder doing something funny or technology related which, in your opinion, is purely cute or basically obscene.  It is never that we think that we, one day, will be old in our age and will have to consider how the younger generation perceives us.

You see, how old you are in your mind varies from one person to the next.  I always saw myself as a late teenager/early twenties person.  My sister always perceived herself as she were, and a friend of mine saw herself as an older person.  (In Your Mind, How Old Are You?)

It is not a joke when you start having grey hair.  Thank you, mom, for the great genes (yaay).  It is also not a joke when you get diagnosed with high blood pressure, kidney stones, diabetes, heart conditions, and all the fun stuff that are pointing towards the way life is flying by.  This is not a post to make you seize the moment, by all means, carpedium all day.  This is a post for you to consider those elders in your lives and what they feel.

Their bodies are not as strong as they used to be.  Imagine how that would make you feel?  They can’t see as well, start losing a bit of hearing, and some start forgetting words.

No.  It’s not very dignified.

And we come in, all young and stupid acting like we know best.  Some have lived through wars, seen how life changes, lost loved ones and families, and yet we come in, all young and stupid acting like we know best.  Acting like our limited knowledge of how smart phones work gives us the power to know.


It doesn’t.

Just because they ask us how to download their emails or they believe everything they see on social media doesn’t make them any less.  It makes them more.

They are pure in heart, pure in soul.  Lived longer and seen more.  Wiser, warmer, and much better than we ever will be.  And we will only know their worth when they are gone.

God bless our loved elders who still have patience in all our foolishness and childishness.

Dignify your elders and you will be dignified.

When on Vacation- Buy Lollipops



I love traveling.  Who doesn’t, right?  There are many ways in which you can turn your travel experience to better or worse.  Obviously, you must research where you are going, what you’re going to do, and what your budget is.  Who you’re traveling with is very important too because you don’t want to end up stuck with that person you can’t handle for ten days straight, right?

Well, this is the first time I travel with both of my children.  One is three and a half years old and the other is almost a year old.  Things were great, I didn’t expect to have some alone time, nor did I expect to have any free time to shower but, all in all, we created good memories.

Things I learned in this trip could be written in a book but this is a post about lollipops.  Let’s go back to 2009 when I visited Scotland (swoon, sigh, and nostalgic music). I loved every second in Edinburgh and my husband and I would go to St. Giles cathedral and order from their great selection of tarts. I would walk by everyday and see these big pieces of fudge staring at me. I mean, they would look at me walk by, like the Mona Lisa, I tell you!  There was a specific light brown piece which would practically beg to be bought but I never did thinking I’d come back for it.

I never did. (Heartbreaking, tears flowing down my face)

Do you understand, I never did.  I never got that piece of fudge and since 2009 and I regret it everyday!  I never knew what it tasted like, never knew how it would or wouldn’t crumble on my tongue, and I would never know its flavor.

And why’s that? Because I postponed buying it until the day I would travel and to my surprise St. Giles was closed.

Fast forward to 2017. My husband and I were pushing our children in their strollers in the airport and my three year old passes by a big lollipop and says he wants it.

We were running late and my husband refused so we went on.  The light brown fudge popped into my mind and gave me a knowing look, I knew what I had to do.

I held my ground and told my husband that we must buy it or else (OK, not really, I just offered to pay for the overpriced candy) and he lovingly obliged.

We were very late, my husband was very angry, but I got my little boy his candy so it doesn’t haunt him (and me) for the next ten years.

When on vacation, buy your lollipop.



He made sure that what he portrayed was just an illusion. He made sure that when he chose his next victim he would have things set out in order. The car, the shoes, the clothes. 
His name was Jack Carter, a professional illusionist who, in some ways, beats the best illusionists of this time. The only difference is he doesn’t make a big show to flaunt his skills, he makes sure to hide them.
What he does is plain and simple. He moves to a new town after researching his victims and starts stalking her. He watches her every move, studies her actions, likes and dislikes, her social circle, and other important points that help his attack.
He plays with his food before devouring it, makes sure that the temperature is just right, that the woman he chooses is ready to sell her soul to him. Of course, this courtship offer takes a few months but he’s been getting better at his illusion.
Either that or women are losing their sight.
He entered the town Chistal and drove to the East side in his black minivan: a car he once researched was the most used car around the eastern coast. He parked next to the conventional white piquet fence and watched as a woman in her early fifties walks out of the house for her daily walk. 

7:05 a.m, right on time dear Mrs. Robbins, he thought.

Jane Robbins was very attractive for her age. A tall, polished businesswoman who recently got divorced after a 25 year marriage. He stepped out of the car, making sure that his shoelaces are tied and started walking behind her, giving her just enough space to not realize that the illusion was about to start.
She power walked for the next few blocks and he started to gain speed. Only when she decided to take a bit of a break did Jack start his jog; he needed to break a bit of a sweat to compliment his act. 
He walked up to Jane out of breath. He knew that he looked very attractive with his black shorts and blue t-shirt, he also wore his fake Cartier watch especially for this encounter.
He treaded softly, approaching the bench with a big smile on his face. “Hello beautiful, nice day isn’t it? Do you mind if I sit down?”
Jane never knew what happened, never had a chance.
By the end of the year, she woke up one morning looking for her fiancé and found him gone, along with every penny she had. 

Infused With Love- Ramadan



As we enter the Muslim’s holy month of Ramadan, we look forward to the great blessings that are bestowed upon us every year and which we thank the Lord for as we are reminded of them daily.  We are reminded of the poor’s feelings of starvation through our fasting and thus we thank the Lord for our financial status which enables us to purchase the basic foods, at least, that will allow us to sleep with full bellies.

We are thankful for our families who are happily gathering around the table at the time of breaking our fast and we are reminded of the many people who have lost their loved ones (may God bless and have mercy on their souls.)

We are thankful for not being at war.  For having shelter above our heads and peace in our minds before our bodies.

And also, we are thankful for our mothers.  Our mothers who look forward to this month to have us all sitting together as a family before we all got busy with our lives.  And I don’t know about you, but my mother shows her love through food.

 She infuses her dishes with love.  Every single dish coming out of her kitchen smells of her.  Every single dish has the sense of her soul.  She use all her senses combined to produce a vast array of dishes that are loved by us all.  She slaves away in the kitchen, replacing last year’s dish set with a brand new one as Ramadan’s blessings, just to make us smile.  And instead of resting while she fasts, she chooses to go the extra mile and make my brother his kebabs because he just loves them.

And as if that’s not enough giving, she hand picks mint from her herb garden to infuse it in our tea, alongside love.

A big thank you to my mother who had a tiring day, you make Ramadan what it is. xoxo


Followed Her Blindly


follow meImage from Follow me Project by Murad Osman

He blindly followed his heart, throwing caution to the wind and ignoring every alarm in his head.  He followed his heart to the ends of the world knowing that by doing so he leaves behind people who really matter to him; people he is responsible for and people who will get hurt.

But it didn’t matter anymore.  He followed his heart blindly to find himself again after dying a horrible death.  Staying alive but barely.  Barely having enough will to breathe and barely having enough will to wake up in the morning.  His death started when he chose wrong.  When he chose the right path away from her.

She seemed to be the wrong choice.  A woman like no other, a woman with strength and will and passion.  A woman who loved one-too-many-times and got hurt one-too-many-times.  A woman who knew what she wanted and who was not afraid to wear her heart on her sleeve.  A woman whose love surprises like an open dam, where you live in free-fall not knowing if she will be there to catch you… but worth it when she does, and worth it when she doesn’t.  A woman crazy enough to add spice in your life and warm enough to cuddle with in cold nights.

He followed her blindly.  His obsession.  The queen of his heart and the love of his life.  He knew life doesn’t give second chances yet he was willing to take the risk.  He left everything and moved on.  Following her blindly to the ends of the world just to sleep at night with her arms around him.  He knew that she was his soul.  He knew that their ongoing arguments and off-and-on relationship never died because she was The One.

He was never truly alive away from her; she was forever in his heart.  The heart he worked so hard into keeping iced finally figured out a way to melt it.  His heart finally beat again after the cold nights of responsibilities, cold days of correct actions, and cold year of society rules.

He followed her blindly into existence.

Into living.

And into salvation.



تنسى بأن لي قلب

وتخبرني بأن الحياة معي


تنسى بأن لي مشاعر

وتخبرني بأني اوصلتك


وتنسى بأن لي روح

وتتمنى أن


كيف لك أن تنسى؟

وكيف لي أن اسامح؟

كيف أقسو على نفسي



فإن لم انتبه لنفسي

فمن لنفسي؟

وإن لم انتبه لقلبي

فمن لقلبي؟

وإن لم انتبه لروحي

فمن لروحي؟

فها هي نفسي تذبل

وقلبي يبكي

وروحي تموت

وأنت… تنسى


Woman Looking at Reflection

No longer so hard, no longer so blind

I stare in the mirror at a face that’s not mine

No longer so harsh, no longer so cruel

The mask I had on was a useful tool.


Cannot keep a straight look on my face anymore

The skin disappearing, revealing the core

A sigh I take and try to put things back

Yet things won’t come if the will I lack


Emotions bubbling at my surface at last

Feathers I use to cover them fast

Cannot understand why I took away

The ice that covered my emotions today.


I want to set my emotions all free

Not doing so really pains me, you see

Yet it is better off to do what I’m told

And turn my eyes from warm to cold


My inner self defies me, I am not to blame

Things will come back, they will be the same

An emotionless mask I will put on again

Yet I still get wet when the clouds all rain.

Fragile- Handle with Care


We humans are more fragile than we think.  We believe  the world is ours to conquer, that the human race was able to evolve over time and is now in control of the world.  The human race was able to land on the moon, discover nuclear energy, find cures for many sicknesses, and converse with other human being on a different continent with a simple call.  We humans believe that the world is in our hands but what we fail to consider is that all the accomplishments done by humans and those which we are so proud of are a summation of many years and many steps and many mistakes.

Yes, people put goals and strive for excellence.  Everyone wants the best for themselves and their loved ones and thus we are working hard to accomplish our dreams.  We wake up everyday thinking of a game plan: what needs to be done, who needs to be where, and who will be benched for the first few hours.  Sometimes, we bench our heart alongside the many feelings that proved time and again that they just get in the way.  So we run alongside our brains with the goal in mind forgetting our heart benched for a bit too long.

And yet we forget that it takes one wrong step and it could all be over.  Life as we know it can take a different route towards one we don’t recognize as our own.  The problem with “givens” in our life is that there are no givens.  In computer programming, we make sure that “if sun rises and the alarm clock rings at 7 a.m., we wake up.”  Life is not as easy as a computer program.  Many people had the sun rise and the alarm ring at 7 a.m. but woke up different.  Woke up with a headache, woke up with a sprained neck, woke up an hour earlier, and some never woke up.

It takes a small spike in the blood pressure to change things.  It takes a small aneurysm, a growing mass we never knew was growing, or a simple quitting by the old ticker.  A clot in the wrong place, a sneeze in the wrong time, or a handshake filled with a virus.  We are too fragile to take life for granted.

There are no guarantees.

No reason to take your days for granted.

Everyday is a blessing.


A Rose From The Past


Once upon a time, a young woman received a red rose from her loved one and, in the heat of the romance, vowed to keep the symbol of their undying love forever and dry the rose in one of her favorite poetry books.  She checked on the rose every few days to make sure that it still kept its shape, remembering the details of the day and imaging how she will open the book when she is old and happily married and call onto her husband who will join her in the memory with fondness that will be spoken of for generations to come.

… Or so she thought.

How many times was the promise of undying love proven to be a temporary feeling and a spur of the moment decision?  How many times has “forever” turned to something closer to a year or so, and how often have, “my heart will only beat for you,” turn to mere words spoken and soon forgotten.  Ah the many lovers who vowed and sworn and so easily checked out of love hotel and how many realized that the hotel is a small bed and breakfast?

Roses, and flowers in general, hold great meaning within their petals and are thus used widely by lovers all around the world.  Those of you who were successful in drying a flower realize that it has stood despite the harshness of life and remains powerful with its beauty.  Even though many relationships don’t work out, the importance of that single dry rose defeats time and turns that previous love immortal.

So with the social networking craze that enabled people to find out what their ex’s are up to, many long forgotten dried up flowers suddenly emerged and many old hideous pictures were tagged.  If a person is alive, you can eventually find out what they’re up to whether by searching the images in news (especially if you are living in a closed community like we are,) or by finding a friend of a friend of a friend who happens to have an open profile and a few pictures close to the location of your ex’s home.  You get my point.  We all searched for our ex’s and we all managed to find a loophole in their privacy even though we are not hackers.

Now, when a wife, who is not really happy with her life choices when it comes to the person she chose to marry, looks at the empty screen of her laptop after a great fight and recalls one of her ex’s, she may hear the siren’s song to take a leap into the dark end of the internet, to dance with the social media, and to search for her ex.  And what could she find?


Her ex is a successful entrepreneur, a happily married father with a wife who is, in a word, stunning, yearly vacations, and the one-too-sweet picture of him in his mother’s 80th birthday surrounded by perfection.  Of course, in comparison to the S#it hole the stalker (well, what else would you call her?) is living, she is in hell envious of the heaven she sees.  And to make matters worse, the ex is a chocolatier.

Why oh why didn’t I marry the chocolatier.  Yes, a person who makes CHOCOLATE for a living!  A person who probably takes the small pieces of chocolate home to his wife because she loves chocolate.  Well, we all love chocolate!  Why don’t we get some?  A real Willy Wonka without the craziness.  A chocolatier!

If we only knew where life would take us, that woman would probably stick with the chocolatier knowing that the little things that she hated about him when she dumped him are the least of her concerns.  Does it really matter that he has a uni-brow?  HE MAKES CHOCOLATE for a living!!

Well, the simple minded game of, “if I married X, I would be ….” can by played with no guarantees as to the happiness levels afterwards because regrets and decisions make us who we are today.

And the rose I found in my poetry book?  I couldn’t for the life of me remember who it’s from.  I might have even bought it myself to see if I could dry flowers.  This really sounds more like me.

So, the next time you receive a flower and choose to keep it for the future, write a note explaining who it’s from, the date you got it, and what was going on that day.  Consider it a message in the bottle, but enclose enough information to remind yourself of the day.  You will have so many things on your mind later in life that you will not remember anything.  It is not a movie you watch in an hour or two, this is a lifetime of memories and events.  Do not expect to remember everything.

Lesson 1: when drying flowers, make sure to write a note with information

Lesson 2: if your current boyfriend’s family own a chocolate shop, stick with him; he will probably become a chocolatier.

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