I will not let you go

  It is the sweetest things in life that float on by like feathers and we can only hold them for a moment, their softness reveals our heart to us.    It is the sorrows of life that burrow deeper, cutting and shredding until their harshness instructs the soul. 

Dear Sorrows of Life,

  For the longest time, I could not figure out why I would hold on to your prickliness, your razor like hurt.  Why your acid words would be allowed to echo in my heart, why such dark memories I'd let enter in to some new found light now.  Such struggles I have allowed and wrestled with;  there are still  shadows presently in  life that deserve no place within my bright circle-  that sorely have fashioned a singular prison with no space for light and yet, I will leave my own sanctuary, entering that cell even if I have to stand upright against a cold wall balancing on a single toe like an awkward ballerina because Sorrow, you have something I need.

 Chief Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks  quoted a writing on suffering and tears welled up in my eyes as I listened  to The Pursuit and Practice of Happiness..."   per the On Being Blog (American Public Media).   Profoundly understanding, I felt I should write to you Sorrow on these new fresh days of 2012.  Another year of your lessons are welcomed, I sincerely hope you will allow my continuing correspondence and holding on because..I will not let you go until you bless me.

Take care-

the better part of me

  To not speak of death is to not speak of life.  I do not write of these things in sadness, I write all in gladness for what is, what was, and what will be...

Mother's Day is a bittersweet day for me.  The bitterness stems from missing my Beau, who never let an opportunity pass to show me what being his mom meant to him.  Sometimes it was a card, sometimes artwork, sometimes a bunch of dandelions with a wee bit of violets mixed in.  I have an old coffee can filled with his gifts, dried and fragile- yet I can never dispose of them.  I remember our last trip together, taking the Amtrak from Springfield to Chicago for a day of touring before he entered the Marines.  I can still see him there, gazing out the window at the old farmsteads and silos blurring by, I could almost read those thoughts, though he was quiet- his sighs were long and thoughtful.  I wondered if he knew, I wonder still...how much I'd give to protect him from all harm and love him fully, no matter what.  Those moments are inscribed in my memory, and they are good and worth keeping.  Beau, the boy/man- is in my every thought still- and on Mother's Day I think of him with tears first, I know no other way to get past the dark than to let it all flow away so the light, the memories can surface.
  This is my first year away from Emma, Mathew and Lily.  I'll miss them too...I remember my favorite Mother's Day with all of them.  Breakfast in bed, smeared blackened toast with jelly accompanied by coffee and juice.  I remember how proud they were to serve it, though possibly sending in the smallest waitress as they wondered if I'd mind the burnt offerings.  She was all giggly and sly, looking back towards her accomplices hideaway.  The other three, just outside the door- giggling too, perhaps wondering if I'd kill the joy of the messenger.  I remember smiling, oh the sweetness of that moment lingers still,  miss Lils got a big hug and then they all surfaced from behind the door to join in the wrestling, hugging match.  Lunch was charred pork steaks, glossy black.  Oh my, the memories I keep- laughing at this moment in the remembrance.

I have to add that I am shameless...I called each child, still my babies, always my babies- on Monday to remind them that Sunday is Mother's Day.  "We KNOW!!!" they answered.  I hope they know, I hope I always convey- how wonderful, how good how utterly right it is to be their mom.  I feel like sending them cards- no greater joy have I known that makes up the better part of me, than of being a mom to my children.  To my Beau- I send prayers and on Sunday, as always- rain or shine...a kite will go up, as if I can still hold his hand by guiding the string.

May all your hearts be filled with memories worth keeping, burnt toast and the blessings only a mother can know- and should you miss someone, may the smiles return as the memories shift clear of the heartache and enter into a slideshow through your thoughts of the happiest, most joyful of moments forever etched upon your very soul.


Take care-

thanks giving

(This is the post I intended to publish on Thanksgiving, but I was fearful...I don't know why. It is a beautiful post and intended to bless some close to me and some not so close...belated Thanksgiving wishes, especially to you J.)

Good morning. Winter is here. Summer has gone. Spring is not in the air though it's still around, sleeping in the garlic bulbs planted in late October, in the tulip bed where the flowers wait. Fall is left to lay on the frosty ground, the leaves blanketing the lawn like a decaying quilt. The pines to the east stand as sentries to the winter blasts sure to come, and in their branches heavily laden with green needles are nests the staunchest of birds have built for their winter homes. Everything is quietly peaceful this A.M, even the rooster is crooning instead of crowing. The crescent moon barely visible as the sun makes it's warm way into the graces of the sky.

This week will find many folks migrating back to a home or a gathering that just feels like home, with familiar faces and habitual foods like lumpy potatoes and dressing that's crispy on the outside and pudding like in the middle. Many look forward to these gatherings with the friends and family who hold blessings in their hearts for all at the table, and give them out like thick love. And then there are those, whom I do not understand at all- who keep those blessings like hostages, withholding the peace another might need to grow on.

If I had a big table, a reallllly gigantic place that all might come for food, spiritual and otherwise- and everyone who pulled up at that table needed some peace, some light to live by, I surely would dole it out like a big heaping slab of pumpkin pie with a dollop of fresh whipped cream on top- just because. No, not just because. Here's the best reason I know to hand out blessings-

So many are so deserving of love, of being told they're beautiful, of warm hugs and sure nods of understanding. But sometimes I think, in those circles of families and friends who hold keys to one another's hearts but never give them- is this ridiculous belief if too much love is given out, the giver might lose control or perhaps there is a fear that the receiver will grow to big, broad, more beautiful and leave the giver with nothing more than an empty bowl. There are too many children who are over six foot tall but are still left a child, at any age...because the ones who raised them withheld the blessings that every child needs to know.

What is it that you need to know? Do you long to hear the words I love you? Do you yearn to be held even when you feel so ugly inside because no one took the time to say, "You are beautiful"? Do you wish for once your circle of folks would look past your flaws, stop holding them against you and instead just accept and trust you as you are?
OK, you are beautiful. And though you're flawed (ain't we all!!!), your mistakes are forgiven. No one can change their yesterdays, only this day can you begin to begin again. As much as you may need forgiveness, you also must learn to forgive as well. For whatever reason, even when people hurt us- perhaps they're doing or have done the best they could do with the tools they had been given. Perhaps their blessings had been withheld from them too.

If you find yourself at a table where your beauty does not transcend your past to an other's eyes, perhaps it is time to join another circle. There are those who will accept your everything. And always, there is the one who created you to be you, unlike any other. You, upon your birth, were given a blessing- a life of unlimited possibilities. Be well with yourself today, do not fear the neglect of another. Don't hold fast to what others believe you to be...believe first in yourself. Take the time today to know that you are worthy of all that you wish for. Take a long hard look at yourself, see those eyes, that smile...appreciate all you've been through, and still somehow manage to laugh in spite of it all.

Don't let anyone tell you who you are- you know... you do. If you sometimes forget, look me up- I'll remind you, please know- I am merely a mirror, all that you see in me is merely a reflection of your goodness. I have found in many of my friends, this reflection. I often wondered what they saw in me...for so long a time, I could only percieve my flaws too. Little by little, we revealed to one another a truth that could not be denied- what we loved about one another was also what we loved about ourselves. So, if you have a good friend, someone you deeply love- look for that certain something that bonds you through thick and thin. Do you find a mutual admiration? My hope is you'll find that view at the table you find yourself at come Thanksgiving.

Take care-