Happy Anniversary Phil

Forty- three years ago today I was in Birmingham, England getting ready to change my life forever. I was a naive little American girl who traveled over the ocean alone to marry the man who sparked my life. Getting ready to walk down the isle with a man I had only really known about 6 months. But I was absolutely, totally, undeniably smitten with this wild looking Brit. He had long, crazy hair, a tight, navy blue sweater, bell bottoms and leather clogs when we first met in Israel.   And the the most beautiful green eyes. Always the rebel, but always a true gentleman.  I was enamored!

But that was a long time ago. We both have evolved and changed, grown out of necessity and yet our core values, our core foundation of love is still alive and strong. We grew up together, we've been together longer than we were ever apart. He is a part of my being.  In one of my most favorite movies, "Eternal Sunshine Of the Spotless Mind",  a couple try to literally erase each other from their minds; erase all the memories of each other.  If I were to do that with my husband, there would be nothing left ; I would erase most of my life.  In the end the movie shows you can erase someone from your mind, but not your heart. Phil will be on my heart forever!

To write a tribute to the man I've grown up with; spent most of my life with is difficult. I'm not sure where or how to begin, but I certainly want to try.  Phil, my husband of forty-three years, has been such a huge influence on how I see life. His sense of justice for the underdog is admirable and righteous.  He helps me,  and others, to see the big picture of our world, our politics, our environment. I was a girl from a small Midwestern city  when we met I had no real interest in anything around me other than what was happening in my own little corner.  He caused me to see how we as humans are care takers of our beautiful, magnificent earth and what we do or don't do will affect how generations to come will live.

If someone tells me that they have been together and all has been delightful, peaceful, no contention, I probably won't believe them. Marriage is difficult and people change.  Phil and I have been through many ups and downs, years of memories and a lot of adjusting.  I believe God has used my marriage to heal childhood wounds, teach me unconditional love and cause me to grow spiritually in ways I never imagined. Although marriage is about growing together, marriage has taught me independence and reliance on my own happiness.  To depend on another human for your happiness will always lead to disappointment and shattered expectations.  My relationship with Phil has taught me to be happy in my own right and bring that to our marriage table.

Phil, I love you and am glad we are together to see our children's children grow.  I am happy to have someone to come home to when I'm gone. I'm happy that I know you'll come through the door and we'll spend our evenings together..... our weekends together, our lives together. We're two very passionate, opinionated people who against all odds, are still together, living peacefully and lovingly together.  Here's to us babe, let's celebrate, for life is short but sweet for certain!!!!

 "You were born together, and together you

shall be forevermore.

     You shall be together when the white

wings of death scatter your days.

     Ay, you shall be together even in the

silent memory of God.

     But let there be spaces in your togetherness,

     And let the winds of the heavens dance

between you."

kahil gibran on marriage

Bearing the Beams of Love

  And we are put on earth a little space, that we may learn to bear the beams love.                                                       

                              William Blake

It's difficult to be hopeful in the current climate of distrust, opinions and passions.  Freedom comes at a cost but sometimes not the black and white price tag we've known.  Let me say this before I even begin; I am authentically thankful to live in this country, please understand that my gratefulness runs deep.  But if we want freedom, we can't pick and choose what freedoms  to condone without questioning our belief system.  Yes, morals need to be involved. Morals based on scientific facts, true data and last but not least, compassion for all individuals. Humans are very powerful creatures and it's scary to see that clearly.  We have the power to give life and take life. To heal and to torture. To oppress and set free.  The question is, are we willing to take the risk of what freedom has to offer?

I certainly don't have answers.  The crisis at our borders has become increasingly intense and complicated.  Politics has used this, yet again,  to play the powerful we/they games to manipulate people into taking sides.  And of course what I hear from truly caring people is, "surely there has to be a better way".  I, for one, have ideas and opinions, but no answers.  Is it possible that  people who are legitimately concerned  could sit down and discuss the issues in a civil manner? Is it possible to find common ground?

When Obama was in office, I read a great deal of hate speech towards him, tons of skewed interpretations of his policies and many personal insults about his life.  Me being the "love your enemies" person found the views and comments, particularly on social media, infuriating.  Then, at the time of the '16 election, a friend asked me if Trump became president would I practice what I preached. Huge question; loaded question! Putting it mildly, my opinion of Trump is certainly not favorable. However, I believe I am willing to put my subjective view of him aside in order to find some sort of peace in times of troubles. 

A few weeks ago I served jury duty.  The person on trial was arrested for a DUI. Yes, he was drunk, yes, he was in his car but the clincher is, he was not driving.  there is no proof he was driving, no one saw him driving. He was sitting in his car, at a gas station, in the front row, sleeping it off. He was arrested because the assistant manager of the gas station saw he had been there for hours. She even went outside to see if he was okay.  He gave her the thumbs up. But after a few hours she called the police, they came, gave him a drug and alcohol test and arrested him. Did a friend drop him off at his car after a night of partying?

  A friend of mine  told me  that she had been at a party drinking on a Saturday night. Feeling she shouldn't drive home, she called an Uber, went to her car to get her purse, and a cop showed up.  So did the Uber. But because she had her keys in her hand, she was arrested and had to serve time. Let me reiterate, she WAS NOT driving. Yet because our laws can be so screwed up, she was still arrested, still served time.  You may not believe it, but it's true.  And such is the case with this person who was on trial..  After three hours of deliberation, and three people not sure about the person's innocence, I told the other jurors that we could continue to fine tooth comb this, but I was not able to find the person guilty of drinking and driving. Final answer!   Within five minutes we came to a not guilty verdict.

The moral of that story is, things aren't always as they seem AND sometimes laws need to change. Sometimes we need to invest our time and thoughts rethinking things that appear "black and white".

Are people afraid to open up to different mindsets as opposed to staying in their own version of reality? Is it ego? Is it hanging on to something they feel will offer them personal security?Are some not able to see beyond the world they know and love?  I don't get it.  This whole crisis truly concerns me on so many levels so I had to vent.  I don't think it will do any good, or put a dent in anything. But it takes the load off my mind, if only for a minute. Choose wisely, watch your words, don't let fear decide for you! Most importantly, always move towards love!  Best advice I was ever given.  It's not safe, but it's good! And there ya have it.

“Aslan is a lion- the Lion, the great Lion." "Ooh" said Susan. " Is he-quite safe?" ..."Safe?" said Mr Beaver ..."Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good. ”

― C.S. Lewis, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe

The Disappearing Act

I'm sitting here pondering this age thing.  I'm older. Sixty seven to be exact.  The good news is that my wonderful husband, whom I never give enough credit, tells me I could easily pass for early 50's.  So, put 2 and 2 together.  Anyway, getting older is just a subject not many want to talk about.

So, I'm thinking about all of this because today is Mother's Day and instead of feeling like I'm this great mother, the guilt is piled up while the resentments sit deep within.  (That should be a whole 'nother blog.)  My best friend is actually my sister who is, yes, younger than me, and probably the exact opposite of me. Yet we laugh, and face time and love each other well.  She's my best friend because she understands my frustrations and doesn't try to fix them, or me. She never has.  What a treasure!! 

When you are older, you feel like you're disappearing, and in a way, you really are.  I mean at sixty seven my life is coming to end.  I may have 20 or 25 years if I'm lucky. Undeniably,  the truth is, it's downhill from here on out.  Believe me, those years fly! But it's not like those 25 years are the prime years...they are ending years. So that means when you're with people who are younger than you, there is not much you really have in common. They don't care about your life because theirs is so full of 'things' and obligations, and keeping the little humans alive.  So at my age we try to be tolerable, quiet, and stay clear of drama.  I'm not so sure I like this role. Not because I'm a fan of drama, but because I have very little in common with the young in my family. 

I need friends my own age who don't act their age. That's the problem!  I still am game for risks, I still want adventure, although it does seem scary.  I have so much I've learned from years of mistakes if only "they" would hear me out. But for the most part, they don't.  Just like I didn't hear my own parents out. But my own parents didn't try to teach me from their mistakes. Why? Because they knew that I probably wouldn't listen. I sure the hell do now. I look back at my mother  and go over and over words she said, and speculate on the words she didn't say.  She knew what I'm finding out now...they don't listen....they have to find out for themselves.  My mom, my lovely mother, did her best and that was amazing. I wish I had listened more and took heed.

My mother died when she was four years older than I am now.  My father died when he was three years younger than I am now.  I miss them and wish I could run so much past them to see what they'd say, or see what they'd advise. Instead, I run it by my sweet sister; what  does she say? Exactly what makes me feel better...what makes me feel valued and loved. She intuitively knows what I need, what will make me smile when I feel like crying. What a great sister !

So that's it for now.  Stay strong and stay in love with yourself and life. 

Eating and The Little Girl Wanting to Be Heard

It  seems like it's been a while since my last post. I guess it feels like  a while only because I'm always writing in my head; that's how I think, in blog posts.  Anyway, it's a beautiful day in the valley and I'm going to see one of my most favorite authors speak tonight, Anne Lamott.  I'm really excited. At the ripe old age of late 60's, I still owe my soul to the company store but am on Spring Break this week. So, tonight's event and Spring break I can say life is good right now.

Let me fill you in on  my new endeavor; raw vegan. Well, I'm trying, and it's my first day. Yeah, that's right, my first day. Don't scoff!  So there ya have it. I have realized I have had to do something about my careless eating habits for a while, especially since I recently decided to venture on the scale.   I have not been intentional about what I eat.  It's been more like feeding a spoiled baby who demands chocolate anytime, any place she wants.  Not pretty! Since I was a little girl I've loved veggies, nuts and fruits.  I remember at my great grandmother's house playing like I was an adult and fixing my own meals in my apartment which was her basement. She had this 1920's like camp stove down there.  Her basement and attic were the things imaginations thrived on.  I loved her home.  Anyway, so I would go out into the yard and fix a "salad" and put all sorts of colorful things from nature in that bowl. Because it was the late '50's and we were only supposed to eat processed foods in my house, well, almost all processed, I knew not to put a bite into my mouth. I could be poisoned.  But I fantasized that was what the good food was all about.Here I am in my 60's going back to those green leaves, nuts and berries. They may not be the same ones, Not sure, but those earthy things appeal to me.

I might add, when I was a wee thing, I would NEVER eat meat...I mean I would try not to.  My mother made me eat it, but I would throw it on the floor for the dogs when she wasn't looking. That was the only way to be excused from the table. The red meat she would cook and serve looked like road kill to me and I couldn't stomach it.  Needless to say, I was skinny.  Not now. Now, sixty years later, I have learned to eat what doesn't appeal to me, and have it appeal to me, and grow sick and fat.  In my defense however, I still chose thick brown bread over the white, processed imitation breads served in the late 50's and early 60's.

Of course I did crave sugar. As soon as my bike could take me to Pease's Candy Store I would buy all the penny candy my meager spending money would allow.  But, that's all I could eat...just the sugar. Except when I went to my grandmother's and great grandmother's. They made what we now consider whole foods.  At least until canned goods became the fashion. That was also the time McDonalds started showing it's arches and food was something that didn't satisfy; you just wanted more. At least I always wanted more after eating those skinny little fries and hamburger patty from McoDnalds.  Food wasn't like that  at my grandmother's though.  Her food was the best.  And my great-grandmother? Her home-made pineapple oatmeal cookies were a dream. Only one cookie and you were full and satisfied.

Food has always been an issue for me. Eating at my grandmother's and great mother's meant all is well in the world. Eating at home meant there was never enough, and sugar was the addiction of a nine year old.

When I was a hippy I tried the "macro-biotic diet where you were to eat mainly brown rice. You chewed it until it turned back into water.  You shopped at a local hippy co-op because 'health food stores' were for weird people and there was maybe one in my town.  My friend and I would sit in our little apartment on the wrong side of town, chew rice until it turned into water, smoked 'herbs" and then bake bread and eat it with honey until we were satisfied. Oh those were the days, (right Carol?)

Then in the early 70' s everything changed and I was told to get a grip, quit being an idealistic hippy and join society. So I did.  The good thing that came from that was I quit smoking cigs, but gained 20 lbs. And so it goes.

Here I am, as you know, in my late 60's searching for that little girl again who knew her own tastes, knew herself without a thought; who didn't question herself.  I know she's buried under the guises of wanting to conform for false security's sake. She's under there somewhere and really trying to tell me to come back. I'm listening to her now. What have I to lose? I listened to her 35 years ago when she told me I didn't have to eat meat anymore; then my mother was no longer there telling me I couldn't be excused from the table unless I took some bites of the swiss steak.

So, it's time to go listen to Anne.  You all have a great week and maybe, if you're lucky, I'll keep you updated on this whole eating thing.  Bye for now.

Cosmetic Procedures and Growing Old Gracefully

Last evening I was sitting in a doctor's chair watching as he began to bend over me  with a long, sharp, glistening needle.  After telling me to wrinkle up my face,  he proceeded to stick me about 25 times in the face with the painful object. As I winced, I told him, "I was the oldest of three daughters.  My father always said  my one sister, a few years younger than me, was the 'stable one', my littlest sister about seven years younger than myself was the intelligent, talented one.  Me? I was the" pretty one." I proceeded to tell the doctor, and I have no idea why I said this, "See what words do? Self fulfilling prophecy!" Before you start to judge or try to compassionately analyze why I do what I do, read on with an open mind. 

This was the umpteenth time I was getting Botox in my forehead, and Juvaderm in my marionette lines.  These types of  cosmetic procedures have been a part of my life for the past fifteen years. Fortunately, in those past fifteen years the attitude of society has changed. Years ago they were seen as selfish and a bit narcissistic. If I would bring up the fact that I was considering having something done, some of the responses I heard were, "Why do this to yourself?", "You're beautiful as you are",  "So sad you want to do this.  What happened to you that caused you to be insecure?" Or worse, "I'm proud of my grey hair and wrinkles, I've earned them!" And this was usually said in a firm voice after discussing or seeing someone who looks younger than they actually are.

 Of course, I have no regrets regarding the numerous times I've had for fillers. I'm happy society is viewing cosmetic work with much more of an open mind.  Growing old gracefully isn't about how many wrinkles you have or don't have. It's not about grey hair, colored hair, or no hair.  It's not about thin and muscular, or heavy and soft.  Growing old gracefully is about how much have you learned over the years. Growing old gracefully is how you treat others, how you use the pain you have experienced in your long years to help or forgive other.  It's about whether you're cynical, judgmental, set in your ways, prejudiced. It's about being  loving, gracious, open minded, inclusive in your  humanity. It's about how well you love yourself and others.If you are someone who has grown old gracefully, people will feel comfortable around you, they will feel free to talk to you without having to worry about  anything.  People who grow old gracefully are usually always kind.

I've let go of trying to analyze why I do the things I do.  At this stage of my life my goal is to love even the stranger, no matter what or who that stranger is.  My goal is to grow old gracefully!

But getting back to my procedures; WOW, I love them.  They're fun and the results make me happy. They make me happy and seriously realize how fortunate I am to be able to have them.  While I play around with the outside of myself, I take seriously the inside. I judge myself and have a standard I  strive for; and that is loving all well.  Not an easy task.

Hey! Thanks for reading. xoxoxo