Friday, December 7, 2018

Christmas In a 1960's Midwest Town

Why do I always get nostalgic in a very melancholy way at Christmas?  It never fails. Is it because the memories happened so long ago?  I always think back to childhood, teen years and my early twenties. Christmas at my parent's house anticipated with excitement and love.  Always!  I have such fond memories.





   Boyfriends were always welcome, food was rich and plentiful, gift giving seemed to never end,  and heated debates thrived.  It wasn't just my parents home though.  It was the certainty of  togetheress, the midnight masses, and of course, the boyfriend who would go to midnight mass with me.  He was Dave and he too was a generous giver.   He died in a car wreck in 1969; from then on Christmases became a little pensive for me.  Especially at first.
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I must say though, getting older is something I was not prepared for.  I mean of course I knew it would happen, but just didn't know how very wistful it can be.  All of the support I had from my parents, my grandparents and my siblings. Now I'm the support system except of course, I still have my amazing siblings.  My sisters are the best but they're so far away.  We can't recreate what was in the past. The long wait for Christmases, the joy and excitement of gifts, and the youthful, passionate conversations. I don't think we had a clue of how fleeting it all would be.

Maybe I grieve for what will never be again. Don't get me wrong, I am thankful and blessed to have my own young family with kids and grandkids to share memories. But it goes by so fast doesn't it?  I miss my youth, I miss my parents and grandparents and even my boyfriend who died.  It didn't seem fair. But life goes on; do I know that!  New memories are made,love still abounds,  but still, I'm not going to minimize the reflections of my past, of the times and of the simplicity. I didn't care who was president then, the war in Viet Nam was just starting, and I always tried not to think of how the world, my world, was changing very quickly too; changing from a global perspective to my own little bubble.  Now I can't help but see that change is always and forever in my face. Literally as well as figuratively.

Looking around at how things are now I must say that I'm an optimist who hasn't arrived yet.  We have  someone who is head of the United States who seems like a complete and total jerk. After all, that family doesn't even have a dog, that's a huge red flag!!  Not to mention his sons go out and kill beautiful wild animals just so they can stuff the heads for tropheys in their obscenely expensive homes.  I won't go on.

Soooo while I'm still a tiny bit positive, I'll close with this:  The Dream Academy's song, "Life In a Northern Town". Makes me teary eyed every time. Merry Christmas world.




Saturday, November 17, 2018

Our Families, Our Lives, Our Roles

A few days ago my mother in law died.  She had been sick for years, but still, it is always sad; death is! Although we weren't close, in the last ten years I had made peace with her and learned to appreciate who she really was, what she had been through and how she became who she was; strong, a survivor.

But the reason I'm writing is mainly about family.  Because of Myra's death, our  kids and inlaws  came together to support my husband, their father and father-in-law, in light of his and their loss.  After our  beautiful dinner I reflected on how utterly short life is. When I finished cleaning up and before I actually sat down to listen to the conversations going on, I looked at my phone and saw a post my nephew put on facebook. It was a picture of his father and himself  years ago. His remarks under the picture said, "I can't believe it's been twenty years."  Jim, his father, died twenty years ago.  Seeing the picture heightened my feeling of being in a pensive sort of mood, melancholy.

Looking up from my phone was a dreamy, almost surreal sight. It was as if  I was a character in a play watching myself and others perform.  I glanced at my family; lively, conversations strong and varying,  kids playing candles lit and what I could describe as an etherial haze over the room.   I used to be the parent of the kids playing. I used to be one of the charasmatic wanna-be conversationalists who spoke with passion and certainty about anything from fashion to the political atmosphere of the world.

I thought of my mother.  She used to sit, like I was at that moment, and let the activities go, the conversations flow, and the debates happen. She played the part of an observer.  But not always.  At one time, long before I knew her,  she was a fiestly , pretty little rebel who ran away from her small  Illinois town and went to  Chicago looking for her dream.  A Catholic girl full of charm, beauty intelligence and passion who wound up marrying  a strong Jewish guy who wore a black leather jacket, from the Jewish ghetto who had his own dreams of fame.   She really was way before her time.  I believe that instead of being a mother of four, she  would have been happier as an extremely successful career woman, although she never would have admitted that.

My husband losing his mother caused me realize yet again, how long it has been since I haven't been able to hear my mother's voice or sit with her alone, just her and me, at her kitchen table and share our lives. Mostly me sharing mine and I missed her...yet as all daughters do one time or another, I have become her.  During family gatherings at her home, most of the time she remained quiet, cleaned up and then listened.  For a few times last night I felt like I was disappearing....invisible. Surely my mother must have felt that way.  Not many times did anyone ask her opinion, or inquire about what things were like when she was young. Sometimes, when it was just her and myself, she would tell me about her life before me, about her boyfriends, how she would manipulate her way out of having to do chores, and how her father would sit up and wait for her to come home from dates, sitting in the dark, my mother able to see his cigarette lighting up through the window. Once when my father and her were seperated, she told me how she went out with one of her more exicitng friends, and how much fun they had.  Her eyes would alway light up when she told  stories about her own life, full of memories and lost opportunites.

That's what happens when you get old.  The people with their kids, their busy lives and their young worlds lead the conversations and, I'm assuming, go home and perhaps reflect a little on what they said.  Or maybe not.  With time, roles change, hopefully we become wiser, more patient, more loving, more tolerant.  But definitley roles change and you're never ready to take a different part,  it's inevitable.

I regret not listening more when I was younger, to my mother, my father, my grandmother and great grandmother. I regret not asking more questions about their lives, their opinions what life was like when they were young...the world situation and how it affected them.   I regret not savoring moments of passion, youth and the feeling I could change the world.

Life and family teach us so much, but usually it's when we look back in retrospect.

I'll end with a quote from one of my favorite authors, Anne Lamott...a quote from her new book, "Almost Everything"

" If the earth is forgiveness school, family is your postdoctoral fellowship. The family is the crucible in which these strange entities called identities are formed, who we are and aren't but agreed to be. Enen in what might pass as a good family, every member is consigned a number of roles intended to keep the boat of family afloat, which because of the ship's rats - gentics,  bad behavior, and mental illness - is not as easy as it sounds.  It's the hardest work we do, forgivng our circumstances, our families, and ourselves.  And forgiveness is hardest of all."

Saturday, September 29, 2018

Days When All We Did Would Never End

So, today is my 67th birhday.  It's just weird ....  life.  The older I get the more time seems surreal.  It seems like people can get a lot more sentimental when they age; I know I do.  My daughter posted a picture of her and myself sitting on our couch so many years ago.  I believe I was in my late 20s.

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What a great picture!! It doesn't seem that long ago. When I was in my 30's I said I had no regrets. Then in my 50's I had so many....and now, I just say it is what it is, it was what it was. Because I know I can't change anything. I can't turn back time. However, IF I were able to give my young self some advice it would be this:

Love well....Study ways you  can  love more.

Love yourself or you won't be able to love anyone else.

ALWAYS MOVE TOWARDS LOVE!

Say kind things.

Brainwash yourself. No, I mean it.  Wash your brain of negative thinking. It's easy to be negative, be positive no matter how hard you have work at it.

BE AN INDEPENDENT WOMAN!! Make your own money, have a career...something you love. Work at it all the time and be a strong example for your daughter, for your son. Show them women don't depend on men.

Find a good counselor and go to her. A lot. Wheher you think you need to or not.

Brush your dog's teeth, respect your animals, they are NOT here to serve you; although they give and love unconditionally.

Don't eat animals.

Drink wine.

Laugh more and don't make apologies for who you are, for not wanting to spend words on trival things that don't matter.

It's okay to care too much, don't listen to people who say "You're too sensitive" and ALWAYS have boundaries.

Don't be religious but be spiriutal.

Let your children know that God loves them unconditionally and DO NOT SPANK THEM.  If someone tells you to, run far away from those people.

Spend more time with your parents.  Ask them about their lives before you.  Hug them and tell them you love them.

Keep praying...for the rest of your life.  Even though your prayers will change, keep praying. Know God is a mystery and you don't always have the answers.  Know that God is love.

Know that the fear of God is not being afraid of things or of being "bad", but that it is a mighty respect for a power greater than you; a mystery greater than you can comprehend. But ALWAYS know God is love.

Know that the will of God is to love and be loved...that simple....but not so easy.

LOVE YOURSELF!!!! WALK AWAY WHEN IT'S TIME!!!

Let your children go. Give them all that you can to help them make it through this life  REMEMBER! THEY DIDN'T ASK TO BE HERE. YOU WANTED TO CREATE A CHILD. You could have adopted, there are plenty of children already here.

Always be honest...as best you can. Especially with yourself.  Expectations breed disapointment and rules and regulations breed rebellion. Not always, but just keep that in mind.

Lastly, growing old gracefully doesn't mean loving your wrinkles.  Love them if you do, but if you don't, that's okay. Do something about it.   Keep fit, lift weights, eat right, get botox, take care of your teeth, and read.  Grow spiritually because soon, you will only be spirit.

It's a long list, I know. But I wish someone had told me those things when I was a young thing.  I will tell my grand-kids for sure.

So, it's a beautiful day, I"m chillin' alone and I like it that way. My husband and I will go to one of my favorite vegan resturaunts tonight and then to a party celebrating my sweet Riley's 21st. (She is family).  Life is good, but way too short.

Thank you Shauna for the picture. Made me nostalgic and gave me inspiration to bring out the thoughts and feelings of my heart.

Of course I'll end with a Dave song. (I would love to see him before I get too old to care.)

These are the lyrics...but I hope you listen to the melody, it's like the color in a painting...

Bring that beat back to me again
Take me back, take me back, can't catch me, can't catch me
Ride my bike down that old dirt hill
First time without my trainin' wheels
First time I kissed you I lost my legs (can't catch me)
Bring that beat back to me again
Screamin', shoutin', louder innocence
Days when all we did would never end
Oh when it gets hard
That's when the days I remember seem so far away
When I was just a kid that's what I miss
When I was just a kid that's what I miss
Take me back, Take me back to that beat again
Smokin' on the railroad bridge
Bring that beat back to me again (again)
Bring that beat back to me again (can't catch me)


Thursday, June 28, 2018

Little Talks

The hate and greed of politics amaze me. The discussions on social media have become more and more predominate and are filled with dark despair of disunity. They have become a funnel cloud of doom with no real motive or purpose other than to cause enmity. All the passionate opinions from the right and left are like wildfire of mentally disturbing ideas and judgments! It seems that, instead of bringing elucidation and a need for solutions, they have done the exact opposite. Yet both sides feel their motives are pure and right.

It dawned on me; like the sun coming out after a torrential rain; if we were all ....all of us....everywhere....were to sit down at a table, or several tables in groups, and truly discussed solutions to our country's problems, maybe, just maybe we would find workable answers that we agree on.  Hope is being able to see light despite all the darkness, according to Desmond Tutu.

I really don't believe there can be hope when we consider the nature of politics...the goal of politics.  Isn't it power?  A politician would become  poison at that table.  We can all agree on that right?  Imaginably, people who engage in a  career of politics perhaps do so with a relatively pure motive in the beginning. They believe  they can "fix" things, make things better. Then it seems ego and the deadly game becomes all too real. They find out that the childhood monsters they thought once were real, really are real and have outgrown their closet.   And alas!  They are lost in a game that's bigger than they are. So,  either get out, or play to survive and feed the ego that once was a pure motive.

In my most passionate moments of disagreements,  I struggled very seriously to move in kindness and love. I must admit, many times I fail. I have also considered putting my head in the proverbial sand and not being a part of any discussion that isn't pleasant. But that's not my nature. I usually try to face things head on and just deal with them.   It's difficult to do in the Facebook forum...or any forum for that matter, without coming away feeling heavy, hopeless and negative.  So, recently I had a private conversation with someone who I thought had other values than my own.  When we actually chatted, I found I had misunderstood a lot of his ideas.  I found we had more in common than I thought we did.  Although we disagree in some areas of resolution, we both have the same heart of compassion.  I didn't know that before I decided to engage in a discussion.

It's so easy to be negative in any situation.  Gravity proves that if you're in a higher place and you're trying to pull someone up to where you are, it's easier for you to fall down to his/her level.  Every morning when I wake, the oppressive cloud of what is happening in our country hits me hard, hits me and tries to take over my open heart. My heart that is trying to stay vulnerable.

I wish, I really do, that we could all sit and discuss with hope in our hearts, and a pure motive of love; love of freedom, love of this country, and love for each other, our future. Our children's future, our grand children's future.  I would like for us to be an example to  future generations that we can do this if we stay open, loving and kind toward each other.  We can do this if we really want to see answers and solutions.  Maybe if these "little talks" would spread like wildfire instead of passionate, hopeless opinions and useless judgments, maybe, just maybe America would be great again.

I tell you what, I have a pretty huge dining table.  Maybe I'll................







"Mercy"

Don’t give up, I know you can see
All the world and the mess that we’re making
Can’t give up and hope God will intercede
Come on back, imagine that we could get it together
Stand up for what we need to be
‘Cause crime won’t save or feed a hungry child
Can’t lay down and wait for a miracle to change things
So lift up your eyes, lift up your heart

Singing, mercy will we overcome this
Oh, one by one, could we turn it around
Maybe carry on just a little bit longer
And I’ll try to give you what you need

Me and you, and you, and you just wanna be free
But you see, all the world is just as we’ve made it
And until we got a new world I’ve got to say
That love is not a whisper or a weakness
No, love is strong, so we got to get together
Yeah, gotta get, gotta get, gotta get
‘Til there is no reason to fight

Have we come too far to turn it around
Ask too much to be a little bit stronger
But I wanna give you what you need
Mercy, what will become of us
Oh, one by one, could we turn it around
Maybe carry on just a little bit longer
And I’ll try to give you what you need


Wednesday, February 7, 2018

Morning Musings

It's 3:46 in the morning.  This used to be the bewitching hour for me if I woke around this time.


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The in between time; not morning yet, but the night is over.  Mysterious things would happen during this grey area. At least in my mind they did. And then, after a few minutes of feeling I had been in another world, I would fade away again,  into a deep sleep.

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Now it's a time when I wake and prepare myself to stay healthy. Have to be at the gym at 5, so I drink my coffee in bed, surf on my phone and then drag myself up and out.

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I'm 66 and starting to feel my age.  I still think I'm my daughter's age at times.  It's been a rough winter so far. because the flu and other bugs have been brutal.  My body is taking a beating. My right thumb is getting to the point where I can barely clutch my coffee cup and I now am considering surgery. Something I never would have done before.

So,  mornings alone with coffee are also a time when I meditate, reflect and pray.  This morning the thought crossed my mind of how powerful being grateful can be.  And trust me, I'm extremely grateful.  My family is healthy, I am healthy, we have beautiful roofs over our heads and my grandchildren are intelligent, happy, healthy and beautiful.  I am grateful.  My car is my friend; yep, that's right, my friend. Loyal, beautiful and will take me places whenever I turn it's key.  My body is still pretty good to me. I'm as strong as any woman (and some men) that are younger than me, and I still do reps at the gym three times a week.  Yes, I'm extremely grateful for so much.

But it's true, if I'm honest, and that's why I started writing here in the first place; to write thoughts and feelings from my heart. I'm getting older and older and someday I will die.  My son, and probably my daughter too, know I'm obsessed with death and the whole experience of dying. I have prayed for a good death, a peaceful death. And I've prayed that for my whole family.  Some who just say science is the only real thing we can put our "faith" in, they will see when their end is here, they will find out.

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However, I really do want to concentrate on living and being grateful, feeling healthy, beautiful and full of life.  At least that's what my mind keeps telling me to do.  At times though, I think I feel all my loved ones who have gone on.  I was shopping yesterday and came across a coffee cup with a lone lady bug painted on the front.  My mother loved lady bugs and when she died, her children were all together, when a swarm of lady bugs came. They just kept coming, for days.  Of course I had to buy the cup.  Now, at this early hour, drinking my coffee in that lady bug cup, I think of her.  She's been gone for more years than I can remember, but her memory is clear as day.  Or is it her memory?  Is it her I feel at times? That comforting way she loved me; was there for me all the time. Her love never failed me; ever.

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Good morning all, have a great day and remember to count your blessings, be grateful. Yet take time away from your screen to stop for a few....be alone, be still and wait, think and feel the moment. Because that is really where it's all happening.