Wednesday, January 28, 2009

It Had To Be You....

Recently my father-in-law was in the hospital and I accompanied my husband, Jeff, for a couple of visits. F.I.L. has had alzheimer's for a number of years, so I did not have the opportunity to meet him when he still recognized faces, names, foods or places with any consistancy. I've never been close to anyone with alzheimer's, so as I am new to my marriage I am also new to this.

Luckily the handful of times I have seen my F.I.L. he has been in good spirits. I've been told he can be unpredictable and irritable from time to time, but wouldn't you be if you were not sure who you were, where you were, who you were talking to or what you were being fed? I would be terrified. Maybe the blessing is that when he becomes frightened he forgets just as quickly why he is so frightened?

Both trips to the hospital were to give F.I.L.'s wife a chance to leave the hospital and breathe for a couple of hours. She'd been spending the nights there and much of the days with just a few "relief pitchers" to help out. Jeff filled the time reminiscing with his father about different places he had lived, family as well as friends of the past, jobs that his father had held, time spent in the military, sports figures that have come and gone, and memories of singing in (and conducting) the church choir. His father looked unsure much of the time, but he did seem to recognize some of what was presented to him....if only for a moment. About a friend of the past he might say "he really was a nice guy". He might smile as a memory briefly lighted on his mind and drifted away again.

Having known my F.I.L. only a few months I wonder what memories I will have with him when he is gone. He still sings, which I think is very endearing. He's always loved singing, and his children have memories of many evenings at home where he sang and played piano. His voice is still beautiful and out of the blue he will start humming or singing aloud whatever tune pops into his head.

When we arrived for our second visit to the hospital Jeff strode to the end of the bed to greet his father. I don't recall if Jeff had a chance to say hello before his father burst into song...."it had to be you.....". Though F.I.L. asked a number of times who Jeff was, who I was and who was making noise in the hallway (he wasn't retaining he was not at home but in the hospital) he seemed to have moments of clarity where he told Jeff he was a great guy, and that he loved him. Tears seemed to form, but then quickly disappear.

There is something sweet and child-like about his mannerisms and his smile. I hope he continues to remember a tune or two, as it obviously brings him joy to find his voice. It brings me joy to have him find his voice.

It had to be you.......

Monday, January 12, 2009

Worn By Time











Several times a week I walk through a neighborhood not far from my own. I find myself drawn to the mix of old and new. There are beautifully restored Victorian homes, as well as newly constructed ones trying to mimic them. There are large, gated mansions that leave me awestruck. Townhouses and row houses, of both traditional and modern designs, are popping up everywhere. My favorites are the bungalows, I'm sure also of a variety of ages, because they are the most welcoming to me. They often have porch swings, rockers or over-sized Adirondack chairs that seem to be extending an invitation to sit and relax a spell. Plants, framed stained glass, ornate crosses and other personal touches often add to the home's warm character.

Of course, the pictures I'm sharing today are not of any homes previously described. There are homes like this one, left behind and decaying, scattered among the new and refurbished. Though to most it would seem an eyesore, I was glad I had the opportunity to see it before it was torn down and replaced with something newer and grander.

There is a history that I will never know. I can't help but try to envision this dwelling as it was before the paint started to peel and the wood started to rot. Did a couple sit on a porch swing, drinking lemonade and reminiscing about their day, before the railing fell away and the steps caved? Did an American flag hang, proudly blowing in the breeze, accompanying the patriotic plaque by the door? Did colorful flowers bloom from the ceramic pots left behind? Could the laughter of children be heard behind the now boarded up windows?

Pigeons are now living among the rafters; I could hear their calls and the ruffling of feathers as they wrestled uncomfortably with my presence. A ladder and pails were left behind, possibly by someone making one final effort at saving a home which had already deteriorated beyond salvation. Even though the house was obviously empty and a no trespassing sign warned intruders to keep their distance, there was still a spirit begging not to be forgotten.

I walked away, with my photographs and my thoughts, just a bit melancholy.

Saturday, January 10, 2009

All Aboard for Neverland!

It's here...Neverland.
"I never get to..."
"You never let me..."
"We never..."

Our 3 1/2 year old is in a new stage. I'm not sure when it started. It might have been a week or so ago. When "no" is our final answer, his facial expressions and his tactics change. It's funny and a bit sad to think he believes he can ultimately convince us that we never let him eat candy, never play outside, or never let him color in bed (where did that idea come from!).

I'm guessing that this stage lasts a little while. The "NO.YES." (or "YES.NO.") stage has also arrived. It followed the flat out "NO!" stage. A quick "NO!" spurts from his lips without a thought of what might have actually been offered, and almost instantaniously a "YES!" follows. Oftentimes there is a resonating "NO...YES...NO!"

It's a part of growning up, and I enjoy seeing the innocence give way to a bit of craftiness. Not that a child will always get what he wants in the end, but the realization that there's more than one way to make an attempt must be very enlightening!!

Wednesday, January 7, 2009

Did you miss me, Crayola?



Okay, I've officially been a stepmother for 102 days. There's been trauma, laughing, screaming, joy, crying, learning, growing, sickness, singing, hugging, hurting and loads of love.

There are a number of "first time" experiences I've shared with my 2 little boys including learning to swing on their own (and jumping out of the swing!), losing a first tooth, riding a bike with training wheels, reading, mastering small puzzles, learning (the hard way) they will not always win.... The list goes on and on.

I feel like I've traveled back decades as I sit on the floor and play Trouble, build towers with alphabet blocks, color pictures of bunnies and other cute creatures with crayons (my artwork above), play "z-e-b-r-a" with a basketball ("h-o-r-s-e" of a different color), race hotwheel cars around the house on my hands and knees, and eat chunks of cookie dough.

It's been wonderful....
There's nothing like the smiles on those little faces to make me realize that I can make a difference. I can teach and I can play, I can discipline and I can imagine, and can love and I can learn, I can tease and I can comfort.

I never had children of my own, but in recent years I have second guessed that decision many times. I have a nephew that helped me learn to crawl on the floor and giggle again in my 40's. Someday I will tell him that the moments I shared with him helped me know that when a loving man and his 2 little boys came into my life God was giving me another chance.

Saturday, January 3, 2009

Dog Years


picture of Bruiser and stepson Nathan

written mid-2008

A few months ago my sister, her husband and their 3 1/2 year old son walked with my lab (Bruiser) and me to a park down the street from my home. Not long after we arrived there I noticed Bruiser was favoring his left foot/leg. He has in the past few years started to have some issues with his hind quarters. No pain that I'm aware of, but increased stiffness and very recently awkwardness on stairs.

I'm keenly aware that Bruiser's 12th birthday has just come and gone. He's an old man in dog years, and besides the grey hair that spreading at a rapid pace under his jaw, his age is starting to show in other ways. He's been in my life since he was 8 weeks old, so it's difficult to think my time with him might be nearing an end.

I remember the first time he walked into the large, fenced in backyard I had at the time. He was so tiny in comparison. Just a shiny black blob with tiny legs sniffing and exploring the wide open spaces. I can still hear the giggles of my 11 year old stepdaughter as Bruiser tugged at her waist length hair as she sat with him on the ground. When he was bigger she challenged him one winter to pull her on a sled across our back patio and he happily accomodated her.

I remember the first time he held a grouse in his mouth when he was being trained for hunting. I don't think he was more than 4 or 5 months old. I walked along during grouse and pheasant seasons as he grew older and enjoyed watching him work. He lived for it.

He would play fetch until he was so exhausted he could hardly stand.

We had a pear tree in the back yard and he would sit patiently watching it until a squirrel would knock one down. Sometimes the branches hung low enough he could pick one himself. Unfortunately he would eat pears until he was sick if he was left unattended for too long with that tree and helpful squirrels.
He loved it when I was out picking strawberries, rasberries, or even cherry tomatoes because he always knew I would be tossing him a treat. I think his favorite fruit was apples. You could not sneek a bite without him hearing, and he could smell them from yards away. He would drool in anticipation because he knew the core would be his.

My nephew used to have to cover his face when he was tail-height to Bruiser. Now he yells "he's hitting me!" as Bruiser's tail wacks him in the chest. Bruiser loves children, but unfortunately they have to get by his tail to love him.

The years have passed leaving me loads of wonderful memories, many photographed but many more in my heart.
Right now it's just him and me in my home. When I'm here he always wants to be close to me wherever I am, whether it's doing yard work or sitting at the computer or sleeping. He wants me in his sight whenever possible.
He loves everyone he meets, but yet I know he would be my protector if I was threatened.
His snoring has become one of my favorite sounds. It's calm and sweet and he just seems so content. He's at the foot of my chair now, snoring away.

I think Bruiser has had a wonderful life, and I will enjoy very much whatever time we have yet to share. I am one lucky girl.

Packing up a life..


written 9-24-08



For a number of weeks, on and off, I've been packing for a move that is going to happen on Friday. I can easily count at least 18 times I have moved in my lifetime. I'd moved a couple of times before my parents divorced in 1980, then school, 2 marriages, 2 divorces and a lot of little moves in between. Each time I've moved more stuff. The longer I live, the more stuff I have.

I've been sorting, filtering, purging, packing and I'm pooped. I'm almost done except for toiletries, cleaning supplies and the computer (can't give that up too quickly!). I've donated items, given a few things away, and filled up my garbage can several times. It's still hard to believe how many boxes I have!

It's strange to look around and not see my stuff. I find I miss the pictures of family and loved ones most. They stayed out until today. My curio is emptied of heirloom dishes from grandparents and great grandparents' lives. I don't read nearly enough, but I like having my favorite books visible.

Albeit for a few select pairs my shoes are packed. There are just a couple of pieces of clothing hanging in my closet...everything else is packed or folded and ready for a suitcase. My 2 living room lamps are packed, and without a ceiling light here I just have the glow of the screen to see by.

My glasses, plates and silverware are packed. Every cupboard is empty. I'm living on protein bars, raisins and cashews and cereal from a Styrofoam cup. Close to my normal diet, but I miss milk and don't want to buy any. I have a ripe banana that will last me two mornings.

So here I sit in the near dark. Almost ready for my impending move. Not nearly as nervous as I'd expected to be right now. Nervous you say, about a move? Oooops. Forgot to mention I just quit my job of 23+ years. My home I've lived in less than a year is up for sale. The moving van is coming Friday morning to gather my things to bring them to TX. I pick up my husband-to-be at the airport Friday evening. I get married on Saturday (3rd time is the charm) and then I leave my family, friends and the state I've lived in all of my life. I and my new husband drive to TX to begin married life by generator. Possibly. I'm moving to Houston just after hurricane Ike passed through. I have no children of my own and now will be a stepmother to 3 and 5 year old boys.

No, not nervous. This afternoon was a little hairy after I found out the moving company was coming later than expected (Friday evening!), but that's been taken care of now. Not nervous. Very happy. I can't think of a better way to describe myself. Very happy. I am very much in love or I would be terrified. It all just feels right. I will fly home to visit and the internet is wonderful for communicating long distance. I will be fine and I will be happy. Very happy.

Off to pack a little more. My smile gets bigger as I think about my future and what I've coined as my adventure. It's a wonderful new beginning and I'm more than ready to get started.

Flying

I have not flown very many times in my life. I believe the first time would have been in 1974. I would have been about 10 years old and it was a trip to Florida with my family. In 1982 my mother treated my 2 sisters and I to a trip to California to visit relatives. There was a long dry spell until I was married in 1996 and my husband and I spent our honeymoon in Florida. There were 2 more vacations to Florida to visit my stepdaughter before we divorced in 2007.

In the past couple of months I've flown to Texas twice. Those flights were a new experience for me because at 43 I was flying alone for the first time. I've always felt safer with my feet closer to the ground, but I have been trying to enjoy my time in the air. Planes themselves are amazing to me. The fact that they can lift off the ground with hundreds of people in them and fly high above the clouds keeps me in awe. I know, I know. Men have stepped on the moon. I still have a hard time processing it all.

I try not to think about how nervous I am and enjoy the view. I love to look at the clouds from the air. Their shades of brilliant white to deep gray. Their textures. The way their ghostly shadows move along the rise and fall of the land. In the daylight the patchwork quilt man has created can be beautiful, too. Tiny roads of buff or charcoal dividing odd shapes of green, brown, and gold. Depending on the crops grown in the area and the time of year you can find all sorts of textures and shades. There are rivers and lakes, farms and towns. Teeny, tiny people in little trucks and cars seem to be hardly moving, but they are rushing through their lives having no idea I am watching them. I've yet to fly over mountains...or at least I don't recall when I have. I'm guessing that must be just amazing as well. I love flying into a city at night. The headlights, streetlights and brightly lit buildings can be just breathtaking.

My recent flying has reminded me of a dream I had frequently as a child. I used to dream I could fly. I'd start moving my arms and lift off of the ground. I don't remember just hovering or exploring, but I remember flying higher and higher and higher. I would get beyond the clouds and would find it difficult to breathe. Eventually I would have to bolt back to a safe altitude and catch my breath again. I would do this over and over. I also remember "flying" in my school building. I would stay close to the ceiling so that the teachers would not be able to reach me and pull me down. I vividly remember these dreams being so real to me that I would stand in front of a tall, oval mirror at the end of our hallway at home and move my arms to try to levitate. Sadly, it did not work. I treasure those dreams because I can still feel the sense of freedom it gave me.

I have been lucky enough to experience similar dreams as an adult, but unfortunately it is much less frequently. There are few things that can give me that same feeling. Riding a horse at full gallop or a motorcycle on a smooth, curvy road come close. I'm guessing riding in a convertable would be right up there, but I've yet to experience that. I settle for the windows rolled down and the sunroof open in my comfortable 4-door sedan. I enjoy standing and facing the breeze at the top of a hill. I guess just give me the sun in my face and wind in my hair now and then...

It's time to go to sleep and see if my dreams take me flying tonight. A girl can always hope.

Father's Day

written Father's Day 6-15-08

I had a blog almost completed this morning and have now gone back and deleted it entirely. I was in a solemn mood thinking about several 'fathers' in my life. There was such a range of feelings I wasn't quite sure where to go with it when I started typing.

The relationship I have with my father really started in my 30s. I won't explain why I did not feel close to him until then, but I can tell you a few of the things that changed. I started realizing that the expectations of his that I had not fulfilled were not nearly as important as what I had accomplished, what I valued and the person that I had become. As my confidence grew, the invisible wall that had manifested between us came down brick by brick. I was able to feel the love that he had for me and let him into heart and my life. At the same time I became more comfortable holding him and telling him that I loved him.
Days like today are extremely important to him. He had with him his wife, his 3 daughters, his son-in-laws, his grandson and grandaughters. There is seldom a holiday where our family is so complete. I know today meant the world to him.

My mother is in the process of divorcing my stepfather after 26 years of marriage. I love my stepfather, but for some reason I stop short contacting him now.
I have not been in touch with him since we moved my mother and most of her things from the house. I'm uncomfortable with the idea of reaching out to him. I'm sure he knew that my mother was unhappy, but I also know that he is very naive in a lot of ways and that he didn't understand she would really leave him. I have purchased a card to send him in the next day or so to let him know that I'm thinking of him and that I'm hoping he's ok, but I think Father's Day will come and go without me calling him. I am hoping that does not make me an awful person, but I have to do (or not do) what my heart tells me.

I am also thinking of my ex-husband today. Over the past 13 years that I've know him he has seldom had what I thought was a healthy relationship with his daughter. Her values are very distorted due the atmosphere she grew up in. I don't know that until she married and had a child of her own that she ever experienced a sense of stability in her life. My ex-husband is an alcoholic who leaves everyone behind (including his daughter) when he drinks, and when he is sober is still battling demons that keep him from being close to those who love him. He will be 6 months sober in 4 days. In the back of my mind I still have to hope that somehow given time that father/daughter relationship will be repaired once again. They seemed to be very good for each other when their relationship was stronger.
I have recently, gently told my ex-husband that I thought it was time he stop contacting me and that we separate our lives. His emails draw me into a life that it's best I leave behind. There was a lot of good in that life, but the anger, pain and the devastating way it ended would be best put in a box of memories and laid to rest. I do, as always, wish him well. I think he knows that.

Also in my thoughts today is the new man in my life. He is the father of 2 young boys who at times test his patience, as all children tend to do with their parents, but bring indescribable joy to his life. He coaches, sympathizes, teaches, understands, disciplines, comforts and loves in a gentle manner that continues to move me. I have heard him be firm as well, but the sound of love still resonates in his voice. I am still in many ways looking from the outside in....but I see and hear a man who has learned from his own life's lessons and I don't think his sons will ever question the love he holds in his heart for them.

Father's Day now comes to a close. It has been a day of reflection for me, but it has been a good day.

Benjamin Button

You may not want to read this if you have not yet seen the movie!!!

My husband and I went to see The Curious Case of Benjamin Button last night. It was a very unbelievable movie, the concept being Benjamin was born an elderly baby. In other words he was nearly blind, deaf and had wrinkled skin lacking any elasticity. Essentially he was born a dying man and appeared to be a deformed, grotesque baby. His mother died in childbird and his father lacked the internal strength to raise such a baby on his own, so Benjamin was abandoned on the doorstep of a large home that housed elderly patients. He was raised by a lovely black woman who worked at the home.

During the course of the movie Benjamin grew from the size of a child into a man, but became younger and younger. As he "aged" his eyesight and hearing improved, he became stronger and taller and he was able to walk again. He became a very handsome young man. Though it was all very far-fetched I thought Brad Pitt did a wonderful job portraying the character from the elderly man, a handsome man probably in his 40s and then a teenager. Toward the end of his life Benjamin was a very angry, disoriented child who could not comprehend what was happening to him. He died at the end as a baby again...

Much happened during the course of the movie including Benjamin falling in love, first with a girl much too young for him, but as he aged in reverse they eventually found each other again and had a relationship. Actually, the daughter they had together brings us through much of Benjamin's life story by reading his diary to her dying mother. Benjamin began as an old man learning everything in life as a child would, and seeing the world through a childs eyes.

Several times during the movie I found myself wiping away tears from my cheeks. Benjamin had a love for life and a sense of adventure that I could not get enough of. If I'd had a notepad with me at the theatre I'm guessing there would have been 10 or 12 memorable lines I would be sharing with you, but in the end I only have one.

As a child living at the residence of the elderly, a kind woman taught Benjamin how to play piano. He became a bit frustrated as he tried to learn, and the woman patiently said "It's not how well you play, it's about how you feel when you play". I'm sorry if it's not an exact quote, but if it's not correct I know it is darn close. I wish those words had been uttered to me when I was taking piano lessons as a child. I venture to say I would still be playing today. I was too worried about perfection and utterly terrified of making a fool of myself in front of a crowd of onlookers during a recital. I should have been playing for the joy of playing. No recitals pleeeease!!

I hope to rephrase that line in some way to help my stepsons with their coloring. The 5 1/2 year old is especially critical of himself and unforgiving when he colors outside the lines. I actually think he does very well, and have tried to tell him so. I color with him and I go outside the lines! I would guess you do this from time to time until you are creating your own lines by drawing or painting what you love. I've no idea how to tell a child it's not perfection you are aiming for but the joy of being creative and expressing yourself. Good luck Girl! I'll have to think about this one....

Anyway, I love the phrase and intend to post it somewhere in my home. Heck, I might even frame it. It's not how well you (paint, write, color, sing, garden, photograph), it's about how you feel when you (paint, write, color, sing, garden, photograph). Hmmm....wonder how many frames I have....

Life is a Gift

written 5-15-2008

No, I cannot imagine. Tornado, tsunami, hurricane, earthquake, volcano, flood or an act of terrorism. Hundreds of thousands of people have died in the past 8 years and here I am. Alive. My family is alive. I have not lost anyone or anything as a result of any of these disasters, except maybe a sense of security. Smaller disasters hit closer to home. Plane and car crashes, house fires, and bridge collapses. I am spared.

Today pictures and videos of a devastated China are everywhere. An earthquake has killed at least 15,000 and wounded 65,000. The count will rise in the coming days and weeks as the find those buried beneath the rubble. Hundreds of thousands are homeless. There are concerns of disease spreading and it is difficult to get necessities to areas that are now isolated due to damaged roads, etc. People are mourning the deaths of their children, families and friends and at the same time they have lost their homes and their livelihood. Everything they knew is gone. The magnitude of what has happened is behind my mind’s grasp.

I started this blog yesterday, May 14th. Today on my way to work I passed a housefire. Smoke and flames were pouring out of the upper windows. Due to noise barriers between the freeway and the residential area I could not see if there were firetrucks at the scene yet, but I’m sure the house was a complete loss.
Another family has now lost at the minimum personal possessions that cannot be replaced, their home and possibly loved ones. The feeling that swept through my body as I passed that scene would be impossible to describe. I feel the same way when I pass a car accident and I don’t know if those involved were injured or even survived. Is there someone waiting at home that will soon hear they’ve lost someone they love? I guess it’s a mixture of feelings including, sadness, compassion and pain. I even feel a sense of loss.

I can’t tell you that I don’t feel down some days. I can feel sorry for myself from time to time. Life is not always easy and don’t most people want a little less struggle and a little more joy?

Days like today are sobering to say the least. I am truly blessed. I have my family, my friends and my health. There’s nothing I truly need that I do not have. It’s easy to forget to be grateful when your needs are being met.

Enjoy who you are, who you are with and what you are doing….. Life is a gift.

5-19-08...As of yesterday the losses due to the China earthquake, though they really have no final numbers and will not for months, is heading toward 50,000 dead and 250,000 injured. The news is filled with videos, picture and stories of horror, sadness and loss. The associated press stated today "Monday was the start of an official three-day mourning period — the first in modern China for anything other than the death of a national leader". My prayers are with them.

Rocky Mountain High

Several nights ago my husband and I were watching TV and happened to come upon a John Denver special on public TV. If you enjoyed ANY of John Denver's music I urge you to try to catch this show in your area. It is called "John Denver: A Song's Best Friend".

Sunshine On My Shoulders brought back memories of my father's cousin (known and loved as my Uncle Doug) singing with his guitar when I was probably in my early teens. Poor fellow was begged to sing that song everytime he came to visit, along with a tune he wrote for is daughter which I can only remember bits and pieces of now.

I'm guessing that Grandma's Feather Bed was one of the first songs from the radio that I learned all of the words to; it was such fun to sing with my sisters. I remember belting out other tunes like Thank God I'm a Country Boy, Rocky Mountain High, Mr Bojangles, Take Me Home Country Roads and The Eagle and the Hawk.

Watching the special brought back a flood of memories of my uncle, my family, growing up on a farm....and even the beauty I've been privileged to see as I've traveled throughout Minnesota, the Dakotas, Colorado and Utah. What a gift John had of putting the simpliest phrases together to create a picture in your mind, or a mood in your heart.

The sincerity eminated from him when he sang...and he reached so many all over the world with his ballads.

I think what touched me most during the special was watching John sing the songs that meant so much to him, learning what inspired many of the words, and seeing the beauty of nature that he loved in video and pictures.

Something else that stuck me was songs that I merely thought were pretty as a teenager now brought tears to my eyes. The lessons of love, loss, faith, loneliness and hope that can only come through experiencing life through the years have changed me. I would call it a benefit of getting older. It was like I was hearing songs for the first time that I know I heard and sang over and over again years ago. Fly Away,Poems and Prayers and Promises, and My Sweet Lady are a few of those songs. Annie's Song describes how I think everyone would dream to love and be loved at least once in their lifetime.

A song less familiar seemed to reach out to me, so following the broadcast I searched for the lyrics. They are posted below. What an expressive song of faith, strength and hope for the future.

I believe God can be many things to many people, and I do not pretend to have all (or any) of the answers. My prayer is that people find a spirit within them that gives them that feeling of being complete. My God does that for me. Without that connection there is a void that nothing I can do or be or try to become will ever fill. When I feel lost it is because I am farther from God, though he is always waiting patiently for my return. They have no way of understanding it, but I think that children carry God within their heart like many adults never learn to do because they are still innocent and haven't yet learned not to trust.....

Rhymes And Reasons
So you speak to me of sadness
And the coming of the winter
Fear that is within you now
It seems to never end
And the dreams that have escaped you
And the hope that you've forgotten
You tell me that you need me now
You want to be my friend

And you wonder where we're going
Where's the rhyme and where's the reason
And it's you cannot accept
It is here we must begin
To seek the wisdom of the children
And the graceful way of flowers in the wind

For the children and the flowers
Are my sisters and my brothers
Their laughter and their loveliness
Could clear a cloudy day

Like the music of the mountains
And the colours of the rainbow
They're a promise of the future
And a blessing for today
Though the cities start to crumble
And the towers fall around us
The sun is slowly fading
And it's colder than the sea

It is written from the desert
To the mountains they shall lead us
By the hand and by the heart
They will comfort you and me
In their innocence and trusting
They will teach us to be free

For the children and the flowers
Are my sisters and my brothers
Their laughter and their loveliness
Could clear a cloudy day

And the song that I am singing
Is a prayer to non believers
Come and stand beside us
We can find a better way

Is there fall in Texas?




I recently moved from Minnesota to Texas, and having been a Minnesotan all my life I knew one thing that I would miss would be the display of colors nature paints in the fall.

Today I went for a walk with camera in hand. I had seen sporadic color driving around the neigborhood in recent days, and I was determined to record some of the beauty to share it with my family back in the chilly state! I had a wonderfully refreshing walk for body and soul, and came home with some lovely pictures to share.

It will probably be some time before I see a full hillside of fall colors like I did in Minnesota, but I look forward to exploring my new surroundings in Texas and finding beauty close to (new)home.

P.S. I also found a little joy in sharing with my MN family that today, on December 1st, I took this walk in tank top and shorts. I believe the high was right around 60 degrees, which is getting cool by Texas standards. Shoot, in Minnesota it would be beach weather!!

The Places You'll Go


I found myself reading this Dr. Seuss book at a time in my life when I was very unsure of the road ahead of me. I was sitting for my nephew, and found myself fighting tears as I turned the pages, reading aloud.

"Congratulations! Today is your day. You're off to Great Places! You're off and away!"

The book begins with a confident little man trudging forward. It didn't take long for me to identify with the character. He was me, but I had little confidence at the time. I was not sure where I was going, only that I could not stay (in the situation) where I was. The knowledge and power within me was mine alone, and only I could choose my path. Only I could make the decision to move on in my life. The words reached my core. I was scared to death.

There will be paths I choose not to take, but when I decide where to go and what to do, I should not be afraid of change. “And when things start to happen, don’t worry. Don’t stew. Just go right along. You’ll start happening too.”

The book went on to remind me that the path ahead will not always be easy. I will not always make the right decisions. I will find myself alone and down. The right choices will not always be clear. Go out or stay in? Turn left or right, or something in between? The book seemed to ask if I struggle with decisions more because I am afraid of what I might lose, or because I'm afraid what I might win.

I will sometimes race through life, just to miss what's important. I will postpone what I want to do because there is not time, yet waste time waiting on things that don't really matter. Waiting for a tomorrow that never comes. Waiting for Another Chance, when it's right in front of me.

“Somehow you’ll escape all that waiting and staying. You’ll find the bright places where Booom Bands are Playing.”

I shouldn't be waiting while life is passing me by. I need to go where the music is playing, which I believe is finding happiness. I need to search out my best life and realize my dreams.

Sometimes I'll be disappointed. I won't always make the right decisions, and I won't always win. Sometimes I'll be alone, but I shouldn't be afraid of those times. I'll get in my own way. There will be darkness and I will feel fear, but I have to remember the light will come again. Life is a Great Balancing Act and you just need to keep moving.

Everyone has a chance to have a great life...to move mountains...and my mountain is waiting for me.

“Your mountain is waiting. So…get on your way!”
_________________________

I still read the book and get absorbed in it’s meaning. It's a book written for children, or is it? I just read the inside cover, and Dr. Seuss wrote it for anyone of any age who was at a turning point. That is just where I was the first time I read it. If you have not read the book I would encourage you to pick it up.

Time to get on my way!!

There's no place like home...


I've actually had this title for a blog in mind for quite some time. I just couldn't decide what to do with it. Recently I saw the play "The Wizard of Oz" and it brought back memories of the movie that I have not seen for many years. I always loved the Tin Man, the Scarecrow and the Lion. They all feel they are lacking something that will give them worth, when all along that something is within them.

It reminded me that outward appearances are never exactly what they seem. Like I needed a reminder. There are those that are beautiful that dwell on small flaws. Those who are intelligent but fear making the smallest blunder. Those that seem confident that feel somehow inadequate. Those who have light within them to share but keep their heads down, uncomfortable with that awkward moment of meeting another's gaze. Those who are thin that look in the mirror and see themselves overweight. Those who are artistic that fear picking up a brush because they might not create a masterpiece. Those that have meaningful things to say but do not speak up for fear of being criticized. Those who have so much to give but don't realize the value of the gifts that they hold.


"There's no place like home...."

Home is within me. Home is how I see myself, what I dream, who I love, how I live, what I believe. Home is my faith. Home is how I find peace and joy. Home is what I keep and what I give away. Home is my my place in this world. Home is what makes me both individual and beautiful. Home is the mark I leave behind...the difference I choose to make. Home is who loves me. Home is not what I hold in my hand, but what I hold in my heart. Home is the valuable part of me that no one can take away.

Home is everything.

Home is happiness. Home is belonging. Home is that place within you that you always want to return. Yes....There's no place like home....

God's Canvas







"Those who dwell among the beauties and mysteries of the Earth are never alone or weary of life." Rachel Carson (1907-64)

I've never spent a lot of time hiking, but I've always loved the outdoors. I do recall walking through a park in Rochester, MN, the day my grandfather died. It was a beautiful fall day, and in a way I think that time alone with nature helped me accept my loss. I still hold the memory in my heart after over 25 years.

I have spent time on public land in northern MN, actually walking along with camera in hand as my ex husband hunted grouse. We did a lot of walking the few years that I accompanied him. The quiet of the woods is healing. We would go in the fall when the color of the leaves was almost at it's peak. Birch trees would be shedding their bark and what was underneath was a soft, grayish pink color that almost made them appear vulnerable. Much of the time we could only hear the sounds of our footsteps, birds calling and the moaning of trees as their branches played like violins.




I've seen absolutely beautiful country in Canada, Minnesota, South Dakota, Utah and Colorado but much of it was seen from the seat of a motorcycle. There is nothing like walking through the woods, breathing the fresh air and noticing the amazing beauty of God's detailed work. I can stare in awe at the twists and turns of the bark on a tree. There are ways sunlight can strike a patch of ferns that make their plumes just shimmer. I love looking for tiny saplings, knowing that the ones who survive are the future of the forest. From the road you might see flashes of color as you pass by flowers in the ditch, but when you are walking you begin to realize how many different varieties there really are. Have you ever seen the beauty of silky green moss growing on a tree or a stone?

The mountains and rock formations have their own inspiring beauty. Canyons go on forever and God's palette of color was not wasted on birds and flowers, he enjoyed stroking his hues on the stone as well.

This past summer I spent several days with my younger sister and two of her friends hiking near Duluth, MN. It was outing the three had shared before, and this time they'd invited me to join them. I knew when the invitation came that the trip would mean valuable time with my sister, and the thought of walking trails and being that close to nature again enticed me. The pictures I am sharing are from that trip.

The weekend ended much too quickly. There is definitely something therapeutic about being away from the city. In the city you can feel alone among thousands of people. In nature you can feel connected in solitary.

I just stepped outside for a moment with my dog and stood to stare at what appeared to be almost a full moon creating a glow behind a large cloud. The rest of the dark sky was spotted with a million stars. I would have missed it if my dog had not been prodding me for one last trip outside before bed. There is beauty in the city, too, if you slow down enough to let it soak in.

When I Get Where I'm Going



I just love this song which has been performed by Brad Paisley and Dolly Parton.
Finding myself closer to God makes the song more meaningful. Tears well in my eyes nearly every time I hear it.


When I Get Where I'm Going
Songwriter(s): George G. Iii Teren, Melvern Rutherford Ii

When I get where I'm going
On the far side of the sky
The first thing that I'm gonna do
Is spread my wings and fly


I'm gonna land beside a lion
And run my fingers through his mane
Or I might find out what it's like
To ride a drop of rain

[Chorus]
Yeah when I get where I'm going
There'll be only happy tears
I will shed the sins and struggles
I have carried all these years
And I'll leave my heart wide open
I will love and have no fear
Yeah when I get where I'm going
Don't cry for me down here


I'm gonna walk with my grand daddy
And he'll match me step for step
And I'll tell him how I missed him
Every minute since he left
Then I'll hug his neck

[Repeat chorus]

So much pain and so much darkness
In this world we stumble through
All these questions I can't answer
So much work to do

But when I get where I'm going
And I see my maker's face
I'll stand forever in the light
Of his amazing grace

Yeah when I get where I'm going
There'll be only happy tears
Hallelujah
I will love and have no fear
When I get where I'm going
Yeah when I get where I'm going

Shelf Life

The other day I poured milk over my morning cereal and banana. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary until I took the first bite. Ooooooh! Sour! I do not have the best sense of smell, or I might have caught it before that nasty taste. The cereal went in the basket and it was dry cereal for that morning.

I do watch shelf life when I buy something, or if it's in my refrigerator and I have not touched it for awhile. I'd just gotten back from a 5 day vacation and had assumed it would still be ok. I very was wrong.

Shelf life got me thinking about me. Forty-three years old. I feel like much of my life is a blur right now. What the heck happened. I'm certainly not an expert at anything. Family, marriage, weight loss, children, finances, gardening, photography, art, milk. I live, make mistakes, learn and try to do better the next time around.

I guess the nice thing about being the age that I am is that generally speaking I like who I am. It took til my mid 30’s to feel confident and good in my own skin. I'm far from perfect. I'd like to weigh a little less. I wish I'd have discovered by now that one thing I excel at. I'm not exactly embracing turning grey, but I'm not obsessed with concealing it. I don't always say the right thing or make the right decisions. Being human has it's weaknesses.

I'm glad my expiration date is not tattooed on my forehead. I’d rather not know at what given moment my life will end. God forbid someone might toss me away a little early just to be on the safe side. I’m hoping my expiration date is many years down the road and that I continue to enjoy life and the person whom I've become, as well the person I have yet to be.

50(+) things about me in no particular order

I.....

1. love to smile and laugh
2. tend to see the good in people
3. am honest, sincere and trustworthy
4. sing in the car
5. am a morning person
6. love the sound of a child's laughter
7. have a little tinsel in my hair ;)
8. enjoy writing, but am very rusty
9. find God everywhere, but speak to him too little sometimes
10. like to hold hands and hug
11. ride motorcycle
12. don't mind getting my hands dirty
13. love to feel soft and femine
14. love days I can drive with the windows down and the sunroof open
15. enjoy walking/hiking
16. workout and try to stay reasonably fit
17. have a big, loveable dog
18. bicycle
19. am sometimes too hard on myself
20. have blue eyes
21. love almost any kind of seafood
22. have a wonderful family
23. interited my mothers love of antiques and treasure my family hierlooms
24. love feeling the sun on my face
25. like to read and need to make more time for it
26. grew up riding horses
27. am more confident and happy each year I'm alive
28. am dedicated and have good ethics
29. have been married/divorced twice
30. grew up in a very small town and also on a farm
31. wish I was better at draw/painting and vow to spend more time fostering that talent
32. enjoy parades and fireworks
33. would love to see the grand canyon again someday
34. am completely in awe of nature and it's beauty
35. have been known to cry at sad endings... and happy ones
36. have found being around children can be grounding and therapeutic
37. am inspired by art and music
38. stop and smell the roses (flowers) literally
39. have moments of insecurity
40. enjoy photography
41. love to take in art festivals, galleries, etc
42. like a good, hot cup of coffee
43. am devoted to the people I love
44. am a genuinely friendly, kind person
45. was born in 1964
46. fought with my sisters when I was young but could not imagine losing them now
47. love the sound of thunder and pouring rain
48. try to trust that someone more powerful than me is guiding my steps
49. have fallen in love again at 43
50. still believe love can last forever....

adding more :)

51. sometimes eat peanut butter out of the jar
52. like the feel of sand between my toes
53. never learned to blow a bubble
54. will stop what I'm doing to watch a hawk soar above
55. love long, hot baths
56. wish I could remember more of my dreams
57. think guitar is my favorite instrument to listen to
58. love my freckles
59. love to read "The Places You Will Go" to my nephew
60. believe color is only skin deep
61. believe God can be many things to many different people
62. would die for those I love
63. wish diseases were easier to cure
64. would like it to be much easier to lose weight
65. wish there were peace on earth
66. sometimes I worry too much about what I can do little about


....just a little bit of who I am....

The Road Home

The Road Home
Michael Dennis Browne

Tell me where is the road I can call my own,
That I left, that I lost, So long ago?
All these years I have wandered,
Oh when will I know
There's a way, there's a road
That will lead me home?

After the wind, after rain, when the dark is done,
As I wake from a dream in the gold of day,
Through the air there's a calling
From far away,
There's a voice I can hear
That will lead me home.

Rise up, follow me, Come away, is the call,
With the love in your heart as the only song;
There is no such beauty as where you belong,
Rise up, follow me, I will lead you home.


The poem is one I heard set to music this weekend at a concert. The words touched me. "After the wind, after rain, when dark is done......There's a voice I can hear that will lead me home.....There is no such beauty than where you belong."
I think you know when you are on the right path. Your day is brighter, your load is lighter, your love is deeper. Outside forces can be deceiving. Follow your heart, that inner voice, and I truly believe you will find that 'home'.

Huggers

My family proudly boasts of being a family of "huggers". No, not tree huggers, but I don't think any of us intentionally litter and we do recycle...small steps. I mean the kind where a handshake might get you in, but be prepared for a bit more when you exit.

We aren't pushy, we will ask for permission. It's not like us to frighten those that did not grow up in the "hugger" atmosphere. Some people are just less fortunate.

My mom ranks up there with the best of the huggers. She's always up for a good squeeze. My 2 sisters and I have become closer with age, and a hug at almost any given moment seems natural and welcome. I have a brother-in-law whom I would consider my hug therapist. I wish I could bottle a few so I'd have some for emergencies between visits.

A while back I was walking into work and a gal who worked in my department was leaving the building as I was arriving for work. I could see in her expression that there was something wrong. I approached her and asked if she was okay. She told me she had just received a call that a very good friend of hers had died in a car accident a couple of nights before. I did not know her well personally, but I reached to put my arms around her. She melted into me and her shoulders heaved as she sobbed. It felt like a very long time, but I would guess we stood there in the parking lot for only a few minutes. I could feel when she began to regain her strength and she slowly released me. She thanked me for being there and I told her to take care and drive carefully. We never spoke of it again, but I know there was a reason I happened to be walking in the building just as she was leaving. She needed me.

Hugging is not for everyone. Sometimes a wink, a smile or a touch will do. Sometimes words suffice. Hugs bring me comfort. Sometimes they are an expression of love, but oftentimes understanding, compassion, concern or even solidarity. Sometimes they are warm and genuine. Sometimes they are awkward but well intentioned. Sometimes they bring joy. Sometimes they invite tears to flow. Sometimes they can heal.

Like I said, hugs aren't for everyone. Some people cringe at the thought. I just can't help but think, though, that they are really missing out on something very special.

Naked Trees

I've been told that as you age you notice and appreciate things that never really caught your eye before. I notice trees. I'm in a state where most of our trees are naked a good part of the year. You'd think they all just passed on at the same time. No leaves. Brown. Lifeless, it seems.



For some reason about 5 years ago I began to appreciate this time of year. When trees are "naked" you see how special they really are. They all have their own personalities. Some spread wide and their branches dip, almost as if they are considering touching the ground, and then they curve again gently towards the sun. Some reach so tall you cannot help be in awe by how close to the clouds they seem to climb.

I'm not really sure what I'm getting at here. I suppose just that I think trees are beautiful even without their green leaves and flowers and fruit. The twists and turns of their limbs. The textures of their bark. The way they bend with the wind. The moaning sound they make in a storm. Their strength.

It's the time of year in Minnesota when within days it seems the branches are covered. Tiny buds start to flourish and turn in to the tiniest, sweetest leaves. Before you know it the trees are full, the grass is green and the flowers are blooming everywhere. Three weeks ago the trees looked dead, the grass was brown and I thought the cold season would never end. I enjoy watching everything come to life in the spring, but it's nice that as long as winter is here I can find beauty between the fall colors and the renewal spring brings.

Walk slowly and pay attention as you travel through this life, there is a lot of beauty on earth that you will miss if you are always in a hurry.

I will hold you always in the palm of my hand. Isaiah 41:13

I've never had a favorite bible verse until I was in my 40's. I found myself in a Christian bookstore looking for something that would help me feel God's presence during a very difficult time in my life. I came away with a silver cross that lies on my end table with the verse written above engraved on it.

Does it bring me comfort? Yes, actually it does when I happen to look at it. I keep meaning to put it in place I will see it more frequently. I've now decided to keep it by my computer as I find myself here every day.

The picture I invision when I read that verse warms me to my soul. I don't see hands, but I feel a sort of invisible blanket around me. I feel protected and loved, and I feel sense of worth that at times is hard for me to come by. I feel connected to the world around me.

When I look at the moon, watch a bird soar, hear water splash on rocks or children's laughter, watch a lightning storm, listen to music, stare in awe at an artist's painting, read a beautiful poem, smell flowers, feel the touch of someone I love I also feel more "a part of". More connected. Less alone. Closer to God. It's wonderful.

I pray I find this feeling more often. I will try to quiet my mind long enough to let it reach me.