Monday, November 29, 2010
Somewhat Daily Dose of Wow! Thanksgiving 2010
It has been a wonderful holiday at home with my family, with food and fun and even a trip into the mountains to get our Christmas tree. Part of me is missing, but the other parts of me are filling in the empty places. I have warm memories of the past, a full and loving present, and a future that stretches out before me like an inviting highway. I am so blessed.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Thanksgiving 2010
Here we are, on the eve of one of those holidays that has the potential to suck a lot this year and for the foreseeable future. Not only that, but Bill's birthday (and by design, our anniversary) is on Saturday.
I could choose to be a miserable mess. Not only does that sound like a really bad idea, it would be a really selfish way to be, since this isn't just my holiday. It would also make Bill really really unhappy. Yep, that was a lot of "really"s. Really.
That's why I have chosen a different route. I'm cleaning the house for company (at least as clean as it's going to get), shopping for the ingredients for our favorite side dishes, and working on my gratitude list. One of those old fashioned things I do when I find myself in full-blown Pity Party is to count my blessings, name them one by one as the song goes. This year I am going for the full Monty, A to Z and I am trying for three things in each category. See if you recognize any of your favorites, (or maybe even your name).
AIR: Breathing is one of my favorite things!
April: My birth month and the time of year when life begins anew.
Angels: So many of them in my life right now!
Barbara: My sister and my friend. Your gift of presence to me this summer cannot be measured in its value. Along with the Bob-in-law, you helped carry me through. Do all sisters come through like this? What a gift!
Berinda: My daughter, not born of me but no less a part of me. You cannot know in this life what a gift you are to this world, but you will surely be blessed in heaven!
Bill: My partner and my heart. I miss you every day and continue to be grateful for all the gifts you brought to my life, in life and in death.
Butterflies: Especially those that reminded me all through this terrible spring and summer that this is all temporary and it is supposed to be. We are constantly transforming, changing, metamorphing into the next creation -- from one moment to the next. It goes on.
Creatures: All of the creatures of the air, the sea, and the land. What a marvelous world!
Costa Rica: The first place I heard the world singing my song.
Cancer: For the lessons you've taught me about living and dying.
Christmas Lights: Welcome back! I'm so glad to see you this year!
Diamonds: A beautiful reminder that pressure can be a productive and creative force, as well as a destroyer.
Dogs: Of all the world's creatures, the one that warms my feet and my heart when they are cold.
Dad: The more I understood your humanness, the more of a hero you became to me.
Death: Sure has a way of putting your life into perspective, don't it?
EARTH: Home, sweet home. For now.
Eyes and Ears: When I close my mouth, they work a lot better. My dad tried to tell me that. My teachers tried to tell me that. Most of my bosses have tried to tell me that. I'm a slow learner.
Emily: My baby daughter, the apple of her father's eye, and on the short list of people I always want standing with me when the going gets tough. Can't wait to see you tomorrow!
FIRE: Warmth, light, healing, knowledge, protection. Is it a coincidence that I was born under a fire sign? Family: A lot of people say it. Mine lives it. From the closest to me to my cousins and second cousins. I love you all throughout all the worlds of God! Thank you for your everlasting support!
Fun: It ain't always fun; so I am real grateful when it is!
Friends: I wouldn't have made it through this year without them.
Grandpas and Grandmas: Everything I know about animals and growing things I learned from my grandfathers. Everything I know about cooking, caring for a home and shepherding family assets, I learned from my grandmothers. When I pray for help and guidance on my journey, I always look to the grandmothers and grandfathers in that host of witnesses that surrounds us at our Thanksgiving Table.
Gidget: Jack's best friend. The little chihuahua-terrier mix that came to live with us last Christmas. My foot-warmer by night, and constant companion by day.
Great Spirit/God: Who I have come to know is too big to be held or owned or described by any single group of people, no matter how good or nice or how terrible they are. That God IS is no longer a question for me, not that it really ever was.
Home: In my mother's last days, she frequently said she wanted to "go home," but she said she wasn't sure where home was. In the months after she died, I pondered this and realized I felt the same disconnection from that which is home. After the two major losses that followed the loss of my mom boosted this disconnect into a full-blown anxiety, the realization dawned that the home we long for may not be our earthly home at all. The desire is a built-in homing device to take us HOME. And we don't need to worry; it will be there.
Heart: So glad I have one and that it works so well. Grateful that it held on for this roller coaster ride we call life. Talk about your ups and downs! I am additionally grateful that it has been a heart that was open to get in and take the ride at all.
Hospice of Denver: You all are the best. Thank you for being on Team Frizzell. May you have a year filled with blessings, especially of the monetary kind!
Happiness: Grateful that it is a choice, and that my heart is up for that journey as well!
Ingrid: One of the dearest friends I have ever had, and a constant example to me of strength and resilience, of giving and taking time to nourish yourself, of grace and beauty. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
Intelligence: I believe that contrary to popular opinion intelligent life does exist on this planet. It is how we were created. All of us possess it; most of us fail to access it regularly. I am grateful for those who do and make this a better place to live.
Intimacy: The path to discovering ourselves in other human beings. Dangerous as hell, but critical to becoming!
Information: As an intelligence analyst, I learned that information is not the same thing as fact. But information always fills in a part of the picture -- even if what it tells you is something about the bearer of the information.
Joshua: My favorite son and my own gift from God. With a keen instinct for finding fun, another on my short list of those I want beside me in troubled times.
Jobs: I always had one when I needed one, including now, and it was always what I needed to be ready for the next steps on my journey.
Jackson Brown: Miniature poodle and friend to Gidget. Chief Jester.
Kitchen: One of my favorite places to be -- the heart of the home! It is where the family gathers for nourishment of all kinds. I love that I can be in my kitchen and with my family at the same time.
Kitsch: Because it makes people smile and forget about all the serious shit. I don't like it when it collects in obscene amounts, unless it's in somebody else's house and then that's cool because they're happy and their stuff has made me smile. Konsequently, I try to keep a kap on the kitsch.
Knees (and hips and other joints): I have become much more aware of them as I age, and a great deal more appreciative of all they do with only a mild amount of complaint, considering how abused they have been. So I have to have a parts replacement or maintenance now and then; it's a small price to pay.
LOVE: Only when your heart has been truly broken can you know that you have truly loved. Only when you have lost your love do you know how greatly you have been loved. In this year of most exquisite heartbreak, I know both of these truths. I also know I would do it all again, but I am not sure I could live through it another time.
Lips: Aren't they nice? Not just mine, I mean. Lips in general.
Longevity: It runs in the family. This is good news for me, but more importantly it meant that I got to know my great grandparents and that I had a relationship with my grandparents well into my adulthood. My maternal grandmother (Rosalie) called me on my 50th birthday to relay her good wishes. I was able to visit with her one last time before she died at age 98. Her twin (Mathilde) turned 102 years old today. Happy Birthday, Aunt Mathilde!
Mothers: Me, mine, yours. It's a tough job: terrible hours, all kinds of crap from the customers (literal and less literal), and if you do it right (and you are very lucky) the job never really ends. The loving part doesn't, for sure. Ever.
Men: I confess; I always liked them. I complain a lot about them, but I complain about the weather, too. Mostly if it interferes with what I want to do or with the kind of day I want to have that day. But I love the weather, all kinds of weather...
Milk: It was the first nourishment we got as babes, and for me remains the go-to drink when my tummy is empty. And you simply cannot make a proper roux without milk; that's a fact.
Marianne: For coming all the way out to Colorado to bring a smile to my sweetheart's face as he was leaving us, a thousand thanks. You always were his favorite!
Music: It has soothed me when I was agitated, energized me when I was feeling low and slow, gave word to my heart's prayer, and helped my loved one sail away, sail away, sail away...
Nothing: As in doing nothing. I needed this. I need this. This is helping. I'm probably ready to start doing some things now; but I am still going to guard and protect doing nothing. It is my right. I have earned it. In spades!
Nasty Odors: Don't misunderstand. I don't find these any more pleasant than anybody else does. There are some odors that make me vomit almost instantly. But I am as grateful for those odors as I am for the ones that calm or energize me. It's the nasty odors that tell you that things aren't as they should be, or you aren't where you should be and it's time to be moving on.
Nature: Nature is where my personal energy gets its greatest charge. I love the sky, the geography, the plants, the creatures. It all works together to create the magic that is this ongoing ever transforming creation. And we are a part of that. It totally humbles me while giving my spirit a giant-sized jolt. If I am talking you and suddenly look skyward and seem distracted, don't be offended. I've caught sight of my brother Hawk and have taken a moment to greet him.
Orgasms: I thought that would get your attention. Os are pretty far down in the list, and I wasn't sure you were still reading. Glad to see that you're still with me ;-) And yes. This is a legitimate entry :-O
Orchids: I just love looking at them. They are among the most beautiful things in the world.
Open(ness): I look for it in others, and avoid its sisters Narrow and Closed. I strive for it in myself, and catch myself in the lie that I have achieved it the moment I begin judging another.
Poker: It's fun. I'm not bad at it, and I have learned a lot about myself and other people at the poker table. I don't play as much as I did when Bill was alive. (Wow! I think that's the first time I have been conscious of using that phrase. My pulse just started racing like crazy. Deep breath.) As I was saying, I don't play as much as I did, but I think I am playing better.
Past: When I get a little too big for my breeches, as my father used to say, all I need is to be reminded that I have a past. Sometimes that past was just yesterday, and sometimes it comes all caps and in bold letters PAST. It's usually enough to take me down a peg or two. Sometimes I need it. Sometimes I don't. My letting you know is not generally a good indicator of which is which -- for you or me. Generally it takes some time and by then, it's in the past.
Pets: For a while, they were all that kept me moving through the day. Thank you, Bob-in-law, for your wisdom in knowing that I needed to keep them close.
Poets and Poetry: I'm grateful for the risk they take as they expose themselves because it helps me understand myself a little better.
Quilts: One day in October, I had to add an extra blanket to the bed. I used the quilt my paternal grandmother quilted and handpainted for my parents' 25th wedding anniversary in 1974. What a wonderful connection I felt, with all kinds of healing soothing thoughts. I'm so grateful that my mother kept it all those years, long after she had the right-sized bed to put it on.
Queers: Some of my best friends are. I love them. So, I won't tell. Don't ask. Please, just make this stupid policy go away!
Quiet: Not the kind of quiet you might imagine. Not soundless. The world is not soundless. We are so busy adding sounds of our own that we scarcely know what the world sounds like. If we could all just quiet down a little, we might hear the hawk cry or the wind whispering in the pine or the owl hooting in the night. I'm convinced they have things to tell us, if we'll only listen.
Recreation: It's what I am doing this year: re-creating. Like any endeavor worthy of a word like endeavor, sometimes there are setbacks; sometimes there are breakthroughs. It may not always be clear which one is which, so I am grateful no matter what. It can't hurt, and it always makes me feel better.
Rabbits: While I do not approve of their dining in my garden, I am grateful to the rabbits in my yard for reminding me, as they hop away, that in this moment I have nothing to fear and I don't need to be worrying about the next moment. I'll get to that moment whether I worry or not and it will be what it will be and I will do whatever I need to do. Silly rabbits.
Rest: Also a big part of this year. I am so tired, worn out, yada yada yada. I relish rest. At first I struggled with the whole Puritan guilt thing. Gotta go, go, go, do, do, do (sure hope you aren't reading this aloud). Not anymore! Go back and read Maslow. All those physical symptoms I was having? Ah, rest. Only eight more letters to go, and I am off to bed! I'm cooking for my little family tomorrow, and I want to savor the day!
Sleep: I know. I just covered rest. I wanted to say a few words about sleep because there was a time when Bill was ill in 2007 when he could not sleep for days and had become quite psychotic from the effects. Ever after I was grateful when he slept soundly and peacefully. No more so than when he was ill for the last time.
Scenery: I guess this could be the same as the Nature thing, but to me it's more like admiring fine art or a moving picture. Some of my favorites this year were the bayou in Mississippi in May; the summer storms in Texas, Louisiana, Alabama, and Florida; the snow storm in Estes Park in June; the jewel-colors of Maryland from the air in October; and the panoramic terrible beauty of Arlington in November.
Self-confidence: Beginning to feel it again. Welcome back. It's been a while. Don't get too cocky. You have a past, you know.
Tenderness: Now I think I get it. I sure hope the world does before it really is too late. Given the pain that it is in, I'd say that we're working on it. I know it took a lot of pain for me to get it.
Toughness: Toughness is not the opposite of tenderness; it is one of its closest allies. I saw both demonstrated day in and day out this summer by an entire household. I am still in awe.
Teachers: I am grateful to all of my teachers, the intentional and the unintentional.
Travel: I always appreciate the opportunity for a change of scenery.
USA: Let's be honest, we ain't perfect. That's how this all got started -- people who refused to happily conform to governance that did not make sense to them. They created a system that could continue to change and grow while adhering to some really sound principals regarding individual rights and protections. We are the guardians of that system. Some of our best and brightest are on the front line of that guard. I am grateful for them and for their families who wait for their homecoming.
Used Cars (and Trucks): Would any of us have had a first car if there were no such thing? Or a second, third, fourth, fifth... Ah yes! I remember them well.
Urologists: God bless them! Somebody's got to go in there and do it! It's not what I would choose. It would take all the magic right out of it for me.
Vali: My sister friend from all the way back. She knows my past because she was there for part of it. I can't tell you how many phone calls and letters and prayers have passed between us over the past 40 plus years, but I can tell you that there were times she kept me from the edge (and vice versa, because friends do that). We haven't spent a single day in each others presence since 1992. I think we should change that situation.
Voting: I'm grateful and proud that I can, and I do.
Valleys: The Rogue Valley. The San Luis Valley. Both are dear to my heart.
WATER: The last of the four elements and so important to life! I treasure water, especially clean water. I used to think it was mostly a western thing, because I grew up in the western US and the western states are so drought prone. However water is pretty important in the scheme of world history. Check out water politics or hydropolitics in Wikipedia if you don't believe me. Politics aside, one of my favorite spots in the world is sitting alongside a Rocky Mountain Creek in the summertime, listening to the water singing its song.
Wonder: I am deeply thankful that my sense of wonder is totally intact. It makes it possible for me to be deeply thankful.
Weeping: Sometimes its the only thing I can do to express what I feel, happy or sad. I bless the person who taught me that tears are a gift.
Xylophone: Love the wonderful tones of the xylophone, vibraphone, marimba.
Xerox: Made my life easier, mostly.
XI and XU: Killer words in Scrabble.
You: Thank you for reading this far. Thank you for reading me at all. It helps to know that you are somehow in this with me, cheering me on. Thank you.
Youth: I loved it!
Yams: It's Thanksgiving, after all!
Zones: Especially the temperate zone, but the subtropical, tropical and erogenous are also nice, particularly in February.
Za: I've won some serious Scrabble games with this gem!
ZZZZZzzzzz It's way past my bedtime, and I am grateful for my comfy bed and the pillow which even now whispers my name...
Note added on 11/27. Here are some thoughts on keeping the gratitude going beyond the annual recognition day we call Thanksgiving:
http://blog.beliefnet.com/mindfulnessmatters/2010/11/the-morning-after-persisting-with-gratitude.html
I could choose to be a miserable mess. Not only does that sound like a really bad idea, it would be a really selfish way to be, since this isn't just my holiday. It would also make Bill really really unhappy. Yep, that was a lot of "really"s. Really.
That's why I have chosen a different route. I'm cleaning the house for company (at least as clean as it's going to get), shopping for the ingredients for our favorite side dishes, and working on my gratitude list. One of those old fashioned things I do when I find myself in full-blown Pity Party is to count my blessings, name them one by one as the song goes. This year I am going for the full Monty, A to Z and I am trying for three things in each category. See if you recognize any of your favorites, (or maybe even your name).
AIR: Breathing is one of my favorite things!
April: My birth month and the time of year when life begins anew.
Angels: So many of them in my life right now!
Barbara: My sister and my friend. Your gift of presence to me this summer cannot be measured in its value. Along with the Bob-in-law, you helped carry me through. Do all sisters come through like this? What a gift!
Berinda: My daughter, not born of me but no less a part of me. You cannot know in this life what a gift you are to this world, but you will surely be blessed in heaven!
Bill: My partner and my heart. I miss you every day and continue to be grateful for all the gifts you brought to my life, in life and in death.
Butterflies: Especially those that reminded me all through this terrible spring and summer that this is all temporary and it is supposed to be. We are constantly transforming, changing, metamorphing into the next creation -- from one moment to the next. It goes on.
Creatures: All of the creatures of the air, the sea, and the land. What a marvelous world!
Costa Rica: The first place I heard the world singing my song.
Cancer: For the lessons you've taught me about living and dying.
Christmas Lights: Welcome back! I'm so glad to see you this year!
Diamonds: A beautiful reminder that pressure can be a productive and creative force, as well as a destroyer.
Dogs: Of all the world's creatures, the one that warms my feet and my heart when they are cold.
Dad: The more I understood your humanness, the more of a hero you became to me.
Death: Sure has a way of putting your life into perspective, don't it?
EARTH: Home, sweet home. For now.
Eyes and Ears: When I close my mouth, they work a lot better. My dad tried to tell me that. My teachers tried to tell me that. Most of my bosses have tried to tell me that. I'm a slow learner.
Emily: My baby daughter, the apple of her father's eye, and on the short list of people I always want standing with me when the going gets tough. Can't wait to see you tomorrow!
FIRE: Warmth, light, healing, knowledge, protection. Is it a coincidence that I was born under a fire sign? Family: A lot of people say it. Mine lives it. From the closest to me to my cousins and second cousins. I love you all throughout all the worlds of God! Thank you for your everlasting support!
Fun: It ain't always fun; so I am real grateful when it is!
Friends: I wouldn't have made it through this year without them.
Grandpas and Grandmas: Everything I know about animals and growing things I learned from my grandfathers. Everything I know about cooking, caring for a home and shepherding family assets, I learned from my grandmothers. When I pray for help and guidance on my journey, I always look to the grandmothers and grandfathers in that host of witnesses that surrounds us at our Thanksgiving Table.
Gidget: Jack's best friend. The little chihuahua-terrier mix that came to live with us last Christmas. My foot-warmer by night, and constant companion by day.
Great Spirit/God: Who I have come to know is too big to be held or owned or described by any single group of people, no matter how good or nice or how terrible they are. That God IS is no longer a question for me, not that it really ever was.
Home: In my mother's last days, she frequently said she wanted to "go home," but she said she wasn't sure where home was. In the months after she died, I pondered this and realized I felt the same disconnection from that which is home. After the two major losses that followed the loss of my mom boosted this disconnect into a full-blown anxiety, the realization dawned that the home we long for may not be our earthly home at all. The desire is a built-in homing device to take us HOME. And we don't need to worry; it will be there.
Heart: So glad I have one and that it works so well. Grateful that it held on for this roller coaster ride we call life. Talk about your ups and downs! I am additionally grateful that it has been a heart that was open to get in and take the ride at all.
Hospice of Denver: You all are the best. Thank you for being on Team Frizzell. May you have a year filled with blessings, especially of the monetary kind!
Happiness: Grateful that it is a choice, and that my heart is up for that journey as well!
Ingrid: One of the dearest friends I have ever had, and a constant example to me of strength and resilience, of giving and taking time to nourish yourself, of grace and beauty. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
Intelligence: I believe that contrary to popular opinion intelligent life does exist on this planet. It is how we were created. All of us possess it; most of us fail to access it regularly. I am grateful for those who do and make this a better place to live.
Intimacy: The path to discovering ourselves in other human beings. Dangerous as hell, but critical to becoming!
Information: As an intelligence analyst, I learned that information is not the same thing as fact. But information always fills in a part of the picture -- even if what it tells you is something about the bearer of the information.
Joshua: My favorite son and my own gift from God. With a keen instinct for finding fun, another on my short list of those I want beside me in troubled times.
Jobs: I always had one when I needed one, including now, and it was always what I needed to be ready for the next steps on my journey.
Jackson Brown: Miniature poodle and friend to Gidget. Chief Jester.
Kitchen: One of my favorite places to be -- the heart of the home! It is where the family gathers for nourishment of all kinds. I love that I can be in my kitchen and with my family at the same time.
Kitsch: Because it makes people smile and forget about all the serious shit. I don't like it when it collects in obscene amounts, unless it's in somebody else's house and then that's cool because they're happy and their stuff has made me smile. Konsequently, I try to keep a kap on the kitsch.
Knees (and hips and other joints): I have become much more aware of them as I age, and a great deal more appreciative of all they do with only a mild amount of complaint, considering how abused they have been. So I have to have a parts replacement or maintenance now and then; it's a small price to pay.
LOVE: Only when your heart has been truly broken can you know that you have truly loved. Only when you have lost your love do you know how greatly you have been loved. In this year of most exquisite heartbreak, I know both of these truths. I also know I would do it all again, but I am not sure I could live through it another time.
Lips: Aren't they nice? Not just mine, I mean. Lips in general.
Longevity: It runs in the family. This is good news for me, but more importantly it meant that I got to know my great grandparents and that I had a relationship with my grandparents well into my adulthood. My maternal grandmother (Rosalie) called me on my 50th birthday to relay her good wishes. I was able to visit with her one last time before she died at age 98. Her twin (Mathilde) turned 102 years old today. Happy Birthday, Aunt Mathilde!
Mothers: Me, mine, yours. It's a tough job: terrible hours, all kinds of crap from the customers (literal and less literal), and if you do it right (and you are very lucky) the job never really ends. The loving part doesn't, for sure. Ever.
Men: I confess; I always liked them. I complain a lot about them, but I complain about the weather, too. Mostly if it interferes with what I want to do or with the kind of day I want to have that day. But I love the weather, all kinds of weather...
Milk: It was the first nourishment we got as babes, and for me remains the go-to drink when my tummy is empty. And you simply cannot make a proper roux without milk; that's a fact.
Marianne: For coming all the way out to Colorado to bring a smile to my sweetheart's face as he was leaving us, a thousand thanks. You always were his favorite!
Music: It has soothed me when I was agitated, energized me when I was feeling low and slow, gave word to my heart's prayer, and helped my loved one sail away, sail away, sail away...
Nothing: As in doing nothing. I needed this. I need this. This is helping. I'm probably ready to start doing some things now; but I am still going to guard and protect doing nothing. It is my right. I have earned it. In spades!
Nasty Odors: Don't misunderstand. I don't find these any more pleasant than anybody else does. There are some odors that make me vomit almost instantly. But I am as grateful for those odors as I am for the ones that calm or energize me. It's the nasty odors that tell you that things aren't as they should be, or you aren't where you should be and it's time to be moving on.
Nature: Nature is where my personal energy gets its greatest charge. I love the sky, the geography, the plants, the creatures. It all works together to create the magic that is this ongoing ever transforming creation. And we are a part of that. It totally humbles me while giving my spirit a giant-sized jolt. If I am talking you and suddenly look skyward and seem distracted, don't be offended. I've caught sight of my brother Hawk and have taken a moment to greet him.
Orgasms: I thought that would get your attention. Os are pretty far down in the list, and I wasn't sure you were still reading. Glad to see that you're still with me ;-) And yes. This is a legitimate entry :-O
Orchids: I just love looking at them. They are among the most beautiful things in the world.
Open(ness): I look for it in others, and avoid its sisters Narrow and Closed. I strive for it in myself, and catch myself in the lie that I have achieved it the moment I begin judging another.
Poker: It's fun. I'm not bad at it, and I have learned a lot about myself and other people at the poker table. I don't play as much as I did when Bill was alive. (Wow! I think that's the first time I have been conscious of using that phrase. My pulse just started racing like crazy. Deep breath.) As I was saying, I don't play as much as I did, but I think I am playing better.
Past: When I get a little too big for my breeches, as my father used to say, all I need is to be reminded that I have a past. Sometimes that past was just yesterday, and sometimes it comes all caps and in bold letters PAST. It's usually enough to take me down a peg or two. Sometimes I need it. Sometimes I don't. My letting you know is not generally a good indicator of which is which -- for you or me. Generally it takes some time and by then, it's in the past.
Pets: For a while, they were all that kept me moving through the day. Thank you, Bob-in-law, for your wisdom in knowing that I needed to keep them close.
Poets and Poetry: I'm grateful for the risk they take as they expose themselves because it helps me understand myself a little better.
Quilts: One day in October, I had to add an extra blanket to the bed. I used the quilt my paternal grandmother quilted and handpainted for my parents' 25th wedding anniversary in 1974. What a wonderful connection I felt, with all kinds of healing soothing thoughts. I'm so grateful that my mother kept it all those years, long after she had the right-sized bed to put it on.
Queers: Some of my best friends are. I love them. So, I won't tell. Don't ask. Please, just make this stupid policy go away!
Quiet: Not the kind of quiet you might imagine. Not soundless. The world is not soundless. We are so busy adding sounds of our own that we scarcely know what the world sounds like. If we could all just quiet down a little, we might hear the hawk cry or the wind whispering in the pine or the owl hooting in the night. I'm convinced they have things to tell us, if we'll only listen.
Recreation: It's what I am doing this year: re-creating. Like any endeavor worthy of a word like endeavor, sometimes there are setbacks; sometimes there are breakthroughs. It may not always be clear which one is which, so I am grateful no matter what. It can't hurt, and it always makes me feel better.
Rabbits: While I do not approve of their dining in my garden, I am grateful to the rabbits in my yard for reminding me, as they hop away, that in this moment I have nothing to fear and I don't need to be worrying about the next moment. I'll get to that moment whether I worry or not and it will be what it will be and I will do whatever I need to do. Silly rabbits.
Rest: Also a big part of this year. I am so tired, worn out, yada yada yada. I relish rest. At first I struggled with the whole Puritan guilt thing. Gotta go, go, go, do, do, do (sure hope you aren't reading this aloud). Not anymore! Go back and read Maslow. All those physical symptoms I was having? Ah, rest. Only eight more letters to go, and I am off to bed! I'm cooking for my little family tomorrow, and I want to savor the day!
Sleep: I know. I just covered rest. I wanted to say a few words about sleep because there was a time when Bill was ill in 2007 when he could not sleep for days and had become quite psychotic from the effects. Ever after I was grateful when he slept soundly and peacefully. No more so than when he was ill for the last time.
Scenery: I guess this could be the same as the Nature thing, but to me it's more like admiring fine art or a moving picture. Some of my favorites this year were the bayou in Mississippi in May; the summer storms in Texas, Louisiana, Alabama, and Florida; the snow storm in Estes Park in June; the jewel-colors of Maryland from the air in October; and the panoramic terrible beauty of Arlington in November.
Self-confidence: Beginning to feel it again. Welcome back. It's been a while. Don't get too cocky. You have a past, you know.
Tenderness: Now I think I get it. I sure hope the world does before it really is too late. Given the pain that it is in, I'd say that we're working on it. I know it took a lot of pain for me to get it.
Toughness: Toughness is not the opposite of tenderness; it is one of its closest allies. I saw both demonstrated day in and day out this summer by an entire household. I am still in awe.
Teachers: I am grateful to all of my teachers, the intentional and the unintentional.
Travel: I always appreciate the opportunity for a change of scenery.
USA: Let's be honest, we ain't perfect. That's how this all got started -- people who refused to happily conform to governance that did not make sense to them. They created a system that could continue to change and grow while adhering to some really sound principals regarding individual rights and protections. We are the guardians of that system. Some of our best and brightest are on the front line of that guard. I am grateful for them and for their families who wait for their homecoming.
Used Cars (and Trucks): Would any of us have had a first car if there were no such thing? Or a second, third, fourth, fifth... Ah yes! I remember them well.
Urologists: God bless them! Somebody's got to go in there and do it! It's not what I would choose. It would take all the magic right out of it for me.
Vali: My sister friend from all the way back. She knows my past because she was there for part of it. I can't tell you how many phone calls and letters and prayers have passed between us over the past 40 plus years, but I can tell you that there were times she kept me from the edge (and vice versa, because friends do that). We haven't spent a single day in each others presence since 1992. I think we should change that situation.
Voting: I'm grateful and proud that I can, and I do.
Valleys: The Rogue Valley. The San Luis Valley. Both are dear to my heart.
WATER: The last of the four elements and so important to life! I treasure water, especially clean water. I used to think it was mostly a western thing, because I grew up in the western US and the western states are so drought prone. However water is pretty important in the scheme of world history. Check out water politics or hydropolitics in Wikipedia if you don't believe me. Politics aside, one of my favorite spots in the world is sitting alongside a Rocky Mountain Creek in the summertime, listening to the water singing its song.
Wonder: I am deeply thankful that my sense of wonder is totally intact. It makes it possible for me to be deeply thankful.
Weeping: Sometimes its the only thing I can do to express what I feel, happy or sad. I bless the person who taught me that tears are a gift.
Xylophone: Love the wonderful tones of the xylophone, vibraphone, marimba.
Xerox: Made my life easier, mostly.
XI and XU: Killer words in Scrabble.
You: Thank you for reading this far. Thank you for reading me at all. It helps to know that you are somehow in this with me, cheering me on. Thank you.
Youth: I loved it!
Yams: It's Thanksgiving, after all!
Zones: Especially the temperate zone, but the subtropical, tropical and erogenous are also nice, particularly in February.
Za: I've won some serious Scrabble games with this gem!
ZZZZZzzzzz It's way past my bedtime, and I am grateful for my comfy bed and the pillow which even now whispers my name...
Note added on 11/27. Here are some thoughts on keeping the gratitude going beyond the annual recognition day we call Thanksgiving:
http://blog.beliefnet.com/mindfulnessmatters/2010/11/the-morning-after-persisting-with-gratitude.html
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Solving the Energy Crisis in 1979
I went back into the front hallway today to start work on the family archives. The hallway was where I stashed all the papers and photos back in August when I couldn't look at them any longer because of all the dead people looking back at me. They've been sitting there in their boxes and folders ever since, silently admonishing me every time I walk by them. And so today, I just grabbed a stack of the stuff and brought it to the scanner. It's a jumble of stuff. Yellowed and stained letters from commanders to our proud parents announcing our promotions, awards, etc. Newspaper articles saved by our proud parents that are now so brittle as to be scarcely readable. Some of it is even crap that needs to be thrown into the recycling bin.
Amongst the old employee evals in one stack (finally throwing that crap away!), I found a copy of The Spokesman I had saved from August 1979. The Spokesman was the official magazine for the men and women in Air Force Security Service, the organization that Bill and I belonged to when we were on active duty. In 1979, I did not yet know Bill. In those days, it was just me and Josh and Berinda, and we had been the proud owners of a 1969 VW Bug. It had carried us from Monterey CA to Homestead FL in 1977, with my grandmother riding in the backseat and a good many of our worldly belongings on the roof rack.
After about a year in Florida, things just started going wrong. It started with four new tires I bought at Wards. Less than a mile from the store one of them flew off the front and bounced off an oncoming car, and then bouncing from one windshield to another in a strip mall parking lot before rolling through the plate glass window of a Chinese restaurant. Sure wish I had known a lawyer in those days!
Some time after that, the bug developed a leak in the gas tank. The environmental issues aside (this was Florida and every drop of gas went directly into the water table), we were also in the middle of an energy crisis. It was affecting everyone, and was reflected on the cover of this particular issue of The Spokesman:
I was a single parent with two kids living on an E-4 salary until I was promoted early that summer of 1979, and for a time we qualified for and took advantage of food stamps. When I considered carefully whether or not we could get by without a car, and without the expenses that were associated with it (I can't believe we complained about gas prices in 1979 -- I would love to pay those prices again), I decided that we could get by with an alternative form of transportation. My commander thought it was a hoot and he was also looking for a way to get some recognition for his little unit in south Florida, so he submitted the following article for the magazine.
I've given some thought to going back to one of these trikes; but the geography is not as friendly here on the Front Range, and I won't even get into the effect the years MAY have had on my strength and stamina! By the way, in that same issue of The Spokesman, the monthly recognition pages for new promotees included a name that I didn't recognize in those days, but will never forget for the rest of mine.
Amongst the old employee evals in one stack (finally throwing that crap away!), I found a copy of The Spokesman I had saved from August 1979. The Spokesman was the official magazine for the men and women in Air Force Security Service, the organization that Bill and I belonged to when we were on active duty. In 1979, I did not yet know Bill. In those days, it was just me and Josh and Berinda, and we had been the proud owners of a 1969 VW Bug. It had carried us from Monterey CA to Homestead FL in 1977, with my grandmother riding in the backseat and a good many of our worldly belongings on the roof rack.
After about a year in Florida, things just started going wrong. It started with four new tires I bought at Wards. Less than a mile from the store one of them flew off the front and bounced off an oncoming car, and then bouncing from one windshield to another in a strip mall parking lot before rolling through the plate glass window of a Chinese restaurant. Sure wish I had known a lawyer in those days!
Some time after that, the bug developed a leak in the gas tank. The environmental issues aside (this was Florida and every drop of gas went directly into the water table), we were also in the middle of an energy crisis. It was affecting everyone, and was reflected on the cover of this particular issue of The Spokesman:
I was a single parent with two kids living on an E-4 salary until I was promoted early that summer of 1979, and for a time we qualified for and took advantage of food stamps. When I considered carefully whether or not we could get by without a car, and without the expenses that were associated with it (I can't believe we complained about gas prices in 1979 -- I would love to pay those prices again), I decided that we could get by with an alternative form of transportation. My commander thought it was a hoot and he was also looking for a way to get some recognition for his little unit in south Florida, so he submitted the following article for the magazine.
Friday, November 19, 2010
Somewhat Daily Dose of Wow! 111910
This morning's sunrise was nearly a two hour show, with scenes like this:
Thank you, Great Spirit, for opening my eyes to another day full of hope and promise!
Thank you, Great Spirit, for opening my eyes to another day full of hope and promise!
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Checking in with Abe Maslow
In the 1980s, all levels Air Force professional military education included some instruction on, discussion of, or reference to Abraham Maslow and his Hierarchy of Needs. I know this because I spent 20 years and 6 days in the Air Force before I retired in 1993, and I instructed three of the then five levels of Professional Military Education during the 1980s. Here's what I looked like in those days:
(Oops! Right timeframe -- wrong picture. This was taken at the Armed Forces Chili Cook-Off in 1981. My team took first place for Showmanship with our "Best Little Whorehouse In Texas." My future husband had known me about nine months, and was somewhat stunned by my appearance. My girlfriends, not so much. Hey! Whatever works!)
(Sigh! We were so young and gorgeous then!)
Anyway, back to Maslow. The short version for those that don't know who or what I am talking about and didn't take advantage of the link above (from Wikipedia because it was convenient and concise):
Maslow's hierarchy of needs is often portrayed in the shape of a pyramid, with the largest and lowest levels of needs at the bottom, and the need for self-actualization at the top.
The lower four layers of the pyramid contain what Maslow called "deficiency needs" or "d-needs": esteem , friendship and love, security, and physical needs. With the exception of the lowest (physiological) needs, if these "deficiency needs" are not met, the body gives no physical indication but the individual feels anxious and tense.
We would discuss Maslow's theory endlessly. Some arguing whether or not physical ailments were directly related to unfulfilled deficiency needs that were not of a physiological nature. Of course, the past 30 years of medical science has pretty much made this a moot argument. The fact that Maslow concentrated his studies on healthy and fully functional people, in fact exceptional people (e.g., Albert Einstein), begs the question whether his was a guide to healthy psychosocial development or a snapshot of the exceptional case. But, I digress, again.
One effect of my continuing recovery from the effects of the past few years has been a better understanding of my relationship to these deficiency needs and a clearer awareness of what is ringing my bell or pulling my chain.
In the immediate aftermath of Bill's death in July, my focus went to those physiological needs that we take for granted. I felt like I had to think about breathing or I would just stop doing so. I had to coax myself into eating and drinking even though I had no sense of taste or smell. I was sleeping very little and sleep walking a lot. It may have looked like I had it all together, but it takes years of practice to make it look that way!
The safety and security needs had been making themselves heard since April of 2009 when our family underwent a brutal breakup; the difference being that after Bill died, I no longer had my steadying hand at the wheel of our ship.
Now it's all jumbled up. I can't tell my self-esteem needs from my love-belonging needs from my self-actualization needs. It feels like one big knot of neediness taking over everything. The need for a hug becomes an existential identity crisis. The only thing I am sure of is eating, sleeping, breathing, and all those other bodily functions that seem, for the moment to be working all right on their own without a lot of input from me or my head.
But, the fears that I thought had been chased off for good are whispering in my ear again. The ones that cackle about me not being good enough or smart enough or lovable enough. I had to shout at them this morning to send them away so that I could get myself dressed and out of the house and into the world. They promised they would be back, but I am going to be ready for them. I am getting too old for this shit!
(Oops! Right timeframe -- wrong picture. This was taken at the Armed Forces Chili Cook-Off in 1981. My team took first place for Showmanship with our "Best Little Whorehouse In Texas." My future husband had known me about nine months, and was somewhat stunned by my appearance. My girlfriends, not so much. Hey! Whatever works!)
(Sigh! We were so young and gorgeous then!)
Anyway, back to Maslow. The short version for those that don't know who or what I am talking about and didn't take advantage of the link above (from Wikipedia because it was convenient and concise):
Maslow's hierarchy of needs is often portrayed in the shape of a pyramid, with the largest and lowest levels of needs at the bottom, and the need for self-actualization at the top.
The lower four layers of the pyramid contain what Maslow called "deficiency needs" or "d-needs": esteem , friendship and love, security, and physical needs. With the exception of the lowest (physiological) needs, if these "deficiency needs" are not met, the body gives no physical indication but the individual feels anxious and tense.
We would discuss Maslow's theory endlessly. Some arguing whether or not physical ailments were directly related to unfulfilled deficiency needs that were not of a physiological nature. Of course, the past 30 years of medical science has pretty much made this a moot argument. The fact that Maslow concentrated his studies on healthy and fully functional people, in fact exceptional people (e.g., Albert Einstein), begs the question whether his was a guide to healthy psychosocial development or a snapshot of the exceptional case. But, I digress, again.
One effect of my continuing recovery from the effects of the past few years has been a better understanding of my relationship to these deficiency needs and a clearer awareness of what is ringing my bell or pulling my chain.
In the immediate aftermath of Bill's death in July, my focus went to those physiological needs that we take for granted. I felt like I had to think about breathing or I would just stop doing so. I had to coax myself into eating and drinking even though I had no sense of taste or smell. I was sleeping very little and sleep walking a lot. It may have looked like I had it all together, but it takes years of practice to make it look that way!
The safety and security needs had been making themselves heard since April of 2009 when our family underwent a brutal breakup; the difference being that after Bill died, I no longer had my steadying hand at the wheel of our ship.
Now it's all jumbled up. I can't tell my self-esteem needs from my love-belonging needs from my self-actualization needs. It feels like one big knot of neediness taking over everything. The need for a hug becomes an existential identity crisis. The only thing I am sure of is eating, sleeping, breathing, and all those other bodily functions that seem, for the moment to be working all right on their own without a lot of input from me or my head.
But, the fears that I thought had been chased off for good are whispering in my ear again. The ones that cackle about me not being good enough or smart enough or lovable enough. I had to shout at them this morning to send them away so that I could get myself dressed and out of the house and into the world. They promised they would be back, but I am going to be ready for them. I am getting too old for this shit!
Monday, November 8, 2010
Monday, November 8, 2010
I hope you will all understand if I keep my remarks short today. It's a little after 5:00 eastern and you can stick a fork in me; I'm done. Bill was buried with honors at Arlington National Cemetery today. It was a perfect day and everything about the ceremony (except for the Washington DC traffic which caused some late arrivals) was perfect. I will say more later, and post pictures, and remembrances of the day and all of those things. For now I will just say "thank you" over and over again to anyone and everyone who made this day so special, including those of you who simply held us in your hearts today. I am including my eulogy, and if I can figure this out (technology seems to be kicking my ass this evening), the program for the service.
Eulogy for My Friend
We met at the NCO Club at Goodfellow AFB in San Angelo TX in February 1981. Recently arrived on base, Bill got talked into going to a retirement ceremony that day, a ceremony that my organization played a part in. He would tell the story many times over the ensuing years, always emphasizing that it was the skirt and my legs that attracted him first. He also enjoyed telling the story of his proposal a little over a year later, in which he always claimed to have not asked me to marry him but having merely inquired as to my interest in marriage.
In spite of what his children think, Bill loved to tell stories. His favorite place in the world was holding court in a corner of the kitchen with beer and cigarette in hand, and an attentive audience to hear his tales (especially an audience of women). Many of us can recite some of the stories verbatim; for example, the one that ends with “Trail? What trail? Pilot, this is the Navigator. Expedite 180.”
We married on his birthday in 1982, a date he picked so that he wouldn’t forget his anniversary. This was a good plan since he wasn’t very good at all about remembering my birthday, but always had a good sense of humor when I would pick out a nice present for myself. That said, from the time we were married, he never denied me anything I wanted. I learned to be careful about admiring things, because we couldn’t afford everything I wanted!
Let’s be clear, I was not such a good catch. I came with a past and a ready-made family, including a very active little boy and a daughter with significant physical and mental disabilities. Bill’s mother was more than a little concerned! The wedding gave him another of his favorite stories, that of Josh pulling the fire alarm in the base chapel just as we were ending the recessional. It became part of the family lore.
When we married, I chose the song “Whither Thou Goest (I Will Go)” from the book of Ruth. It goes, in part, “Whither thou goest, I will go. Wherever thou lodgest, I will lodge. Thy people will be my people, my love. Whither thou goest, I will go.” It didn’t quite go that way. We were both, after all, in the Air Force. Within two years, I was on my way to Korea for a year and Bill went straight into single parenting, never missing a school event the entire year and ultimately being recognized as Father of the Year by the Child Development Center on the base.
Bill was my biggest supporter. He never stopped believing in me even when I wasn’t too sure about myself. He made it possible for me to be a wife and mom and have a career that I can be proud of, and he did it at no small personal sacrifice. When he retired from the AF in 1986, following the birth of our baby Emily, he was on track to be Chief Master Sergeant; instead he left the AF so that we could stay together as a family on one continent with no threat of long separation.
Bill always thought that he had rescued me from myself and a grim situation, and as I look back now, I have to admit that it was true. Like any rescue, I came with baggage; and we spent part of our lives dealing with the contents of those bags and of course the ones he’d brought along on the journey, until we realized it was mostly stuff we didn’t need anymore and we began traveling a lot lighter.
Life has a way of teaching you what is important and what isn’t, and Bill was a quick study. He didn’t waste time on things or people he wasn’t interested in. To some, he came off as antisocial, and he did not suffer fools gladly, but anyone who ever heard him laugh or saw his smile knew the warmth of his heart. He was also generous to a fault, and wouldn’t hesitate to donate to a friend having a hard time of it.
The last few years weren’t easy. Losing his leg in 2007 was life-changing, but not life-stopping. In spite of the challenges, I remember these last years with fondness and gratitude. Camping in Colorado, California, Texas, and Florida allowed us to recapture some of our favorite times on the road again and visit with family and friends across the country one last time. We looked forward to going back to Costa Rica one more time, where Bill could revel in a paradise where he could be warm all the time, wear very little clothing, and watch the wildlife while he worked his crossword puzzles, with the ever present beer and cigarette close at hand.
I miss my friend. I miss his company over coffee in the morning. I miss fighting over which one of us gets the newspaper first. I miss his reminders to “let it go” or to “get down off my high horse” when I start getting wound up about something. I miss his skinny legs, and that lock of hair that would never stay where it belonged, and his beautiful hands that would get so banged up in the winter weather. I miss the ringing of his laughter and the twinkle in his eyes. I miss the kisses for good morning and good night and hello and good bye. And when this grief of missing him breaks through with a vengeance, I miss the way he would hold me when I cried until his shirt was wet with my tears. Most of all, I miss knowing that he was always there, and that he would always be there, because that’s the kind of guy he was. The kind of guy I always knew I could count on. I count on him still, to keep watch over us until we are together again.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
The Night Before The Day
It's the night before Bill's memorial at Arlington National Cemetery. The family has all checked in at the Best Western Iwo Jima Memorial, and the younger family members are taking advantage of the opportunity to get reacquainted (at least until the hotel bar closes at 9 pm). Along with the older family members, I've gone to the room, showered, changed into my favorite jammies, and am planning on an early night. It has been a long day, with the Breath for Life Yogathon in Baltimore, and the heaviness of tomorrow's events.The only way I will get through it is with a good night's sleep.
There is a nice group of us here at the hotel -- 20 by my count -- and more driving in tomorrow morning for the service. We are only five minutes from the chapel, according to Google maps; but none of us feels confident about making it in five minutes. Additionally, all of the cars will be subject to search entering Ft Myer; so we have to leave no later than 0800 to be sure to be at the chapel at 0830. The weather will be cold in the morning, which is a concern for both Danny (our piper), and me since we have some elderly folks in the group. Fortunately, the grave site service is as short as it is full of tradition and honor.
Did I say something about this being a long day? I think it's time to turn out the lights and call it a night.
There is a nice group of us here at the hotel -- 20 by my count -- and more driving in tomorrow morning for the service. We are only five minutes from the chapel, according to Google maps; but none of us feels confident about making it in five minutes. Additionally, all of the cars will be subject to search entering Ft Myer; so we have to leave no later than 0800 to be sure to be at the chapel at 0830. The weather will be cold in the morning, which is a concern for both Danny (our piper), and me since we have some elderly folks in the group. Fortunately, the grave site service is as short as it is full of tradition and honor.
Did I say something about this being a long day? I think it's time to turn out the lights and call it a night.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
The Fifteenth Thursday
I've been working on the program for Bill's funeral service and my personal eulogy for the past couple of days. Coincidentally, it has been cold, gray and raining steadily since last night. The closer we get to the day of the funeral (November 8), the more fragile my emotions get. I am okay with that. I hope the people around me are also okay with that. Not that it matters; there isn't much I can do about it anyway. As Bill would often say, "It is what it is."
I guess I didn't realize that I had shelved some stuff back in July and August. So now, it's time to pull it out and deal with things I would not think about then. The things that hurt me and made me angry and scared. These aren't huge monsters of rage and terror; they never were. I was just too tired after weeks of nursing my dearest friend as he disappeared from me, to face them and put them in their places. I wanted rest, and time to heal a bit before I had to be a grownup again. And now that I am rested, Sorrow comes calling and appears to have packed for a stay.
I guess I didn't realize that I had shelved some stuff back in July and August. So now, it's time to pull it out and deal with things I would not think about then. The things that hurt me and made me angry and scared. These aren't huge monsters of rage and terror; they never were. I was just too tired after weeks of nursing my dearest friend as he disappeared from me, to face them and put them in their places. I wanted rest, and time to heal a bit before I had to be a grownup again. And now that I am rested, Sorrow comes calling and appears to have packed for a stay.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Washington, DC
I love our nation's capital! It is among the most beautiful cities in the world. From my first visit in June 1983 to my most recent drive-by, yesterday, I can't help but be proud of its views from the various points around the city. Yesterday, as I left Jodi's house in Alexandria, I took in the panorama from the new Wilson Bridge spanning the Potomac. To my right and south, the river runs down to Mt. Vernon; to the north and left the Capitol building gleams white in the distance, with the Washington Monument to its left. The new bridge itself is awesome! Plenty of room for the traffic and the views upstream from the eastbound lanes are phenomenal. As an added bonus, you can no longer see through the rebar to the river below as was the case with the old bridge.
I met Jodi for lunch at the new National Harbor. This area, just a concept when we left in 2007, has sprung up from the shoreline of the Potomac just southeast of the Wilson Bridge. Restaurants, shops, apartments, a marina, and a convention center in a gleaming, well-planned enclave on the river with the bridge and the capitol in view. Just stunning! I was very impressed with the metered parking which accepted credit cards and worked without a hitch. I would be interested in knowing how they hold up over a few winters and summer storms.
Driving north on I-295 from the National Harbor was also a treat, especially once I was past the Blue Plains Water Treatment Plant. In 1983, when we visited Washington from Texas, I was pretty disappointed in the state of the highways around DC, especially I-295. The roads were poorly designed for the amount of traffic, in terrible disrepair, and the litter situation was -- as the kids say -- "off the hook!" It was dirty and disgusting, and not the way you imagine your nation's capital. Yesterday I saw lots of evidence of cleaning, widening and improvement of 295 and portions of the Capital Beltway/495. I am looking forward to coming back yearly to track the progress. It is easy to picture the future highway providing a scenic view of the Anacostia River and the city center. Hopefully they will keep this one lit a little better than the old one which could get very dark and scary in spots.
And of course, being here in the fall is the best. The temperatures are moderate, the tourists are gone, and the leaves are like nowhere else on earth. While they are all beautiful, the maples and poplars and crepe myrtles and dogwoods; this year is the year of the hickory with its incredible slightly toasted butter color that glimmers in the light. Although the past weeks and days have brought a lot of attention to the city and its most famous citizens, I am grateful for my more limited perspective that focuses on what a really special place on earth this is -- especially for me right now.
I met Jodi for lunch at the new National Harbor. This area, just a concept when we left in 2007, has sprung up from the shoreline of the Potomac just southeast of the Wilson Bridge. Restaurants, shops, apartments, a marina, and a convention center in a gleaming, well-planned enclave on the river with the bridge and the capitol in view. Just stunning! I was very impressed with the metered parking which accepted credit cards and worked without a hitch. I would be interested in knowing how they hold up over a few winters and summer storms.
Driving north on I-295 from the National Harbor was also a treat, especially once I was past the Blue Plains Water Treatment Plant. In 1983, when we visited Washington from Texas, I was pretty disappointed in the state of the highways around DC, especially I-295. The roads were poorly designed for the amount of traffic, in terrible disrepair, and the litter situation was -- as the kids say -- "off the hook!" It was dirty and disgusting, and not the way you imagine your nation's capital. Yesterday I saw lots of evidence of cleaning, widening and improvement of 295 and portions of the Capital Beltway/495. I am looking forward to coming back yearly to track the progress. It is easy to picture the future highway providing a scenic view of the Anacostia River and the city center. Hopefully they will keep this one lit a little better than the old one which could get very dark and scary in spots.
And of course, being here in the fall is the best. The temperatures are moderate, the tourists are gone, and the leaves are like nowhere else on earth. While they are all beautiful, the maples and poplars and crepe myrtles and dogwoods; this year is the year of the hickory with its incredible slightly toasted butter color that glimmers in the light. Although the past weeks and days have brought a lot of attention to the city and its most famous citizens, I am grateful for my more limited perspective that focuses on what a really special place on earth this is -- especially for me right now.
Monday, November 1, 2010
Girlfriends
...in the sweetness of friendship, let there be laughter and sharing of pleasures. For in the dew of little things, the heart finds its morning and is refreshed. Kahlil Gibran
I am so very lucky to have girlfriends. Yesterday afternoon, I packed a small bag and left Ingrid's for a couple of nights with my friend Jodi in Virginia. It has been so long since Jodi and I had some time together, but like all good friends it was almost like there had been no time and distance at all. We didn't stay up very late as I was pretty tired; but we packed in a lot of talking sitting on the patio in front of the glowing chiminea with a glass or two of red wine. I shared my story of the past few months, and Jodi filled me in on what things have been like living with two gorgeous and challenging high school girls.
Jodi and I have been friends since about 1995 when we found ourselves working for the same company on the same contract. We would go to lunch together and have a surreptitious glass of wine (having ANY alcohol during the work day was forbidden by the company) with our pasta. We knew we were meant to be friends when we realized we both shared a deep love for Italian food and good red wine. Sharing similar values and political ideologies kept the conversation going and it continues to this day.
When your friend speaks his mind you fear not the "nay" in your own mind, nor do you withhold the "ay."
Ingrid is my oldest friend, chronologically. She is ten years older than me. Jodi is ten years younger. In between, there is Vali (who has been my friend the longest), Lissa (my newest friend), Evelyn, and Marianne. None of these ladies live very near me. That's what happens when you live in a mobile society. It makes getting together for lunch a bit of a challenge when there are thousands of miles between you, but a phone call or letter or email is all it takes to regain contact. My girlfriends have been critical to my recovery. Ingrid was with me when we received Bill's initial diagnosis. Both Evelyn and Marianne came out to spend time with me and give me strength when Bill was dying. For the girls that couldn't come, just knowing that they were lifting me up in their thoughts and holding me close in their hearts gave me courage to keep going.
When you part from your friend, you grieve not; For that which you love most in him may be clearer in his absence, as the mountain to the climber is clearer from the plain.
Today I am grateful for my girlfriends and pray for all good things to come to them!
I am so very lucky to have girlfriends. Yesterday afternoon, I packed a small bag and left Ingrid's for a couple of nights with my friend Jodi in Virginia. It has been so long since Jodi and I had some time together, but like all good friends it was almost like there had been no time and distance at all. We didn't stay up very late as I was pretty tired; but we packed in a lot of talking sitting on the patio in front of the glowing chiminea with a glass or two of red wine. I shared my story of the past few months, and Jodi filled me in on what things have been like living with two gorgeous and challenging high school girls.
Jodi and I have been friends since about 1995 when we found ourselves working for the same company on the same contract. We would go to lunch together and have a surreptitious glass of wine (having ANY alcohol during the work day was forbidden by the company) with our pasta. We knew we were meant to be friends when we realized we both shared a deep love for Italian food and good red wine. Sharing similar values and political ideologies kept the conversation going and it continues to this day.
When your friend speaks his mind you fear not the "nay" in your own mind, nor do you withhold the "ay."
Ingrid is my oldest friend, chronologically. She is ten years older than me. Jodi is ten years younger. In between, there is Vali (who has been my friend the longest), Lissa (my newest friend), Evelyn, and Marianne. None of these ladies live very near me. That's what happens when you live in a mobile society. It makes getting together for lunch a bit of a challenge when there are thousands of miles between you, but a phone call or letter or email is all it takes to regain contact. My girlfriends have been critical to my recovery. Ingrid was with me when we received Bill's initial diagnosis. Both Evelyn and Marianne came out to spend time with me and give me strength when Bill was dying. For the girls that couldn't come, just knowing that they were lifting me up in their thoughts and holding me close in their hearts gave me courage to keep going.
When you part from your friend, you grieve not; For that which you love most in him may be clearer in his absence, as the mountain to the climber is clearer from the plain.
Today I am grateful for my girlfriends and pray for all good things to come to them!
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