Cracking

I claw, I clutch, and hold on to the past

while I try to release it as well.

I holler and cry and hope it won't last.

How do I DO this?

It's so hard to tell!

 

So I stop for a second,

take a breath, find my place...

hold my hands with each other,

rub my arms, touch my face.

 

I'm never as far from the truth as I fear,

like now, when my mind's out to sea

and at once, when I stop and remember what's dear,

it's suddenly all clear to me...

 

It's just about choosing,

not about right or wrong,

and it's easy to make peace with me

when love is my choice

and love is my goal,

and Love is the master, not me.

 

Then I find that the past doesn't matter at all,

that love is what made it to now.

So I sit in the present, so grateful, aware

that I always find balance, somehow.

Ivan in the Garden

            “When I was lying there and started to feel the rain coming down on my face, I just felt like Mother Nature was taking me.”  Pause.  “It was wonderful.”

              As has happened before, when he told me this story, he was right back there in that moment, reliving it.  The surrender and peace of his recollection registered clearly on his face.

            Ivan loves to be outdoors in the summer heat, loves to be active and productive, and loves to tinker with his rider mower (“the tractor”).  Last Friday was no different.  He had been “cooped up inside all day” and had noticed that the cover on his tractor had blown off in yesterday’s winds.  He decided that his project du jour was to replace it on the tractor and enjoy the semi-cloudy weather.  Having come off of his walker and seated on the edge of the planter in front of the mower, he leaned down to free up a corner of the cover that was trapped under a tire.  A sturdy tug didn’t release the cover, but sent him reeling backward into the planter.  Large enough to cushion his body from the waist up, the planter allowed Ivan to fall into soil and avoid cracking his head or any bones on the surrounding blocks.  At first, he didn’t panic - just gained his composure and began the (futile) effort to sit up and regain his balance.  But after squirming around and trying to right himself, he lay back down, frustrated that there was nothing he could get a hold of to help pull himself up.  His legs are the weakest part of his body, and were what he needed to roll over and/or to move himself back to the edge of the planter to sit up.  He struggled, then stopped.  Struggled some more, stopped again.  Finally, in utter exhaustion, he lay back and just decided to stop and think about what to do next, to see what happened, or to “let nature take its course.”  Then he felt a raindrop.  And another.  Then the deluge began.  The rain was pelting his face and arms and his body was getting colder by the second.  It was just all more than he could believe. 

            It was at this time that he knew that it was ‘his time’ to return back to Nature, and so just lay there and surrendered to that.  “It was wonderful.”

            He felt someone touching his shoulder and rousing him from his trance.  How long he had been there, he wasn’t sure, but in retrospect, figured about twenty or thirty minutes. 

            “It took me a bit to realize what was happening and were I was.  It was the mailman trying to help me sit up, but it was too much for him by himself.  He couldn’t do it.  So he called an ambulance and we waited.”

            The ambulance arrived, then a fire truck, and the crews instantly pulled Ivan into his storeroom, the closest enclosure they could find, to begin drying him off and to check his vital signs.  By then, he was alert (as usual), and answered as many questions as he could. 

            “When they asked me my age and I told them ninety six, you should’ve seen them jump!  They snapped to attention and went to working on me in earnest like you wouldn’t believe!”

            He repeated this part of the story more in the next couple of days in recounting the event that any other.  I think it let him realize that not only is he in really good shape for his age, but that once again, he beat the odds in a situation that would’ve taken out someone younger than himself.  This time, though, I wondered if he wished, maybe, that he hadn’t. 

...and a few pictures of people included in the story...........

Carol and Dad

Mary Jane, loves to laugh!

Mike, in a pensive moment....

The four sistuhs...Trudi, myself, Frannie, Mary Jane

My cousins Max and Vince Sternjacob, on my mother's side - stopped in ABQ on their way through!

Betty and her daughter

So.....I'm still not exactly sure how to post pictures and captions in an organized fashion.  Baby steps.....:)    Here are pictures from our trip to Alamogordo.

White Sands at sunset

The boarding house where dad first lived, about 1949

Our old skating rink.....still there!

While I was in Albuquerque, there was a snow on February 1 that resulted in a day of solid white serenity and stillness like I hadn't experienced before!  My sister, brother-in-law and nephew were visiting that week (Mary Jane, Skip, and Mike).


Skip, Mary Jane, Mike and Dad

Hannah, Skip, Lena, Mary Jane

Mike and Frannie

Waltzing with His Walker is now a published book (available on Amazon.com)!,  with some pictures included, but not all that I'd love to share with readers.  Here, then, is where I am adding those.  I hope these add some depth and understanding to the book.  Thank you for reading! 


My dad, the railroad enthusiast and volunteer with Friends of the Cumbres and Toltec

Poetry vs. prose....

January 20 or so, 2011

I’ve come to find myself
roaming and accessing
what’s most needed in the moment.

If all the winter weather were warmer,
we wouldn’t want it,
would we?

Most of our ideas are conceived in sleep-
Dreams install them in our wishes’ basement.

I’m crying now, yet again -
and sensing I’m the last to know why.
Showers, book reports, notes on a crime.
What savory bits are tugging
at my tear ducts?
Hapless, hopeless, hurting and hostile -
I’m going to go a different direction.

Home again, I’m lost.
Leaving here once more, I tend toward
being found.

June 5, 2016

My Hero

At any age, the subject of "My Hero" brought about an anxious feeling in me, as I really had no hero.  I knew of no one that met the high standards that "Hero" conjured up in my mind.  Many kids in my classes referred to their mother or father, Abe Lincoln or other president, or celebrity or superstar as their hero.   My dad was a good guy, a great guy, even, most presidents that I knew of were decent men and good leaders, and there have been celebrities that have inspired me, certainly, but Hero?  They all had a long way to go to meet that mark. 

    I've always wondered what it was like to 'have a hero.'  I even tried to have one!  Mother Theresa was a saint, so surely she was of hero quality; Jimmy Carter grew up poor on a peanut farm and became an international figure of peace and goodness, so he must be someone that I could consider a hero.  The list goes on and on. At some point, I just surrendered, realized that there are and have been numerous men and women, even children and animals, who have awed and inspired me, but I was to go through life without a hero, and that was okay.

    And then this morning in a visit with my 96-year-old friend, Ivan, he happened to mention, as a part of his day yesterday, that "the TV was steady talking about a man who was a famous boxer who just died.  It went on all day, until about 8:00 last night."  I felt a surge of sadness swell up in my heart and in my throat.

    "Do you know the boxer's name?  Was it Muhammed Ali?" 

    "Yes.  That was him.  The boxer that won some championships and retired when he was 39."

    Instantly, tears welled up in my eyes, my heart cracked, and I was overcome with sadness as though I had just heard about the death of one of my dearest friends.  Many of the things that I knew of Ali came to mind:  his original name, Cassius Clay, and his decision to change it to honor his leader and his faith; his physical strength, agility, and beauty; his wit and ability to fire off rhymes about his opponents and upcoming fights; and in later years, his new notoriety as a spokesperson for, and victim of, Parkinson's Disease.  I loved a commercial that he and Michael J. Fox did together - a serious subject brought to light and softened with humor by two unlikely pals. 

    For several years, I have loved, collected, and shared quotes ~ some humorous, others meaningful and thought-provoking.  One such quote was from Muhammed Ali - "Don't count the days.  Make the days count."  After reading an article about Ali a number of years ago, I decided to write him a note and let him know that he had been an inspiration to me over the years, and I shared with him that I used his quote as part of my daily "Thought for the Day" messages on my answering machine.  I don't remember how I found out where to mail the card, but it was an accurate address, because a week or two later, I got a card from him!!  It was a humble and humorous note, acknowledging and appreciating my use of his words, and encouraging me to continue to do what I love and to live my dreams.  Needless to say, I was touched.

    I was touched then by his words, his effort, and his sincerity, and I am touched now by how deeply I feel his passing.  I now understand my nephew's grief when George Harrison died, and my friend's great sense of loss recently when Prince died.  What I didn't get at the time, how they could mourn the loss of a total stranger, I get now.  They had lost someone that they felt a connection with, someone that not only inspired them but moved them to action, and someone that was, in their mind and in their heart, a Hero. 

    How odd that it has taken his death to bring me to the realization that I have had a hero all along.

    "Live every day as if it were your last, because someday, you're going to be right."

 

Stunning solstice shots!

April 5, 2016

An entry from my memoir, "Waltzing with His Walker" is below, written in December 2010, accompanied by photos of that astounding and magnificent morning.  Blessings!

Solstice Revisited  

January 14, 2011

Have you noticed that the days are a little longer and that the sun is going down a bit later each day? It feels good to know that we are on the other side of the shortest day of the year, and that warmer days and more light are on the way. The solstice was a really special time this year as a full moon, a total lunar eclipse, and the winter solstice all took place within one day.

I managed to get up early on Tuesday, Solstice morning, and decided to go for a walk just as it was beginning to get light outside. As the sky was a lovely pink and showed promise of a sweet sunrise, I ran back inside and got my camera. GOOD call!  From the minute I got back outside, I took pictures all the way along my walk. It was so beautiful! Every part of the sky was colored, from purples and pinks to gold and tangerine, in all directions and in all shades imaginable. I couldn't believe how much everything kept changing, and every second seemed more beautiful than the one before. During the following week, the sunrise came up in conversation a lot. A number of people had seen it and were just as awed by it as I was. I asked my neighbor, who is a very early riser, if a lot of mornings were like that, and if I've been missing them all Fall. "Nope. That was a really special one. They don't get much better than that!"

It was good news to hear, mostly because it let me see that once again I was in the right place at the right time. That of all the mornings I chose to go out early, I was out for a huge visual gift. I got to feel that--for all the ways I think that I'm floating around in life with no vision or focus, drifting with no definition or design--I might actually be in the absolute right and perfect place at the right time. I've started to relax a little, surrender a little more to being where I am, like it or not. I trust that not only will everything turn out okay, but that it's okay now; even better than okay!  Amen.

 

Hello again!

Easter Sunday, 2016

It has been way too long since I have written for my blog!  I have spent much of this past 12 months on a memoir, "Waltzing with His Walker," a book about the year that I lived with my dad in 2010-2011.  The writing took much less time than the editing, rewriting, and now, work on self-publishing.  In the process of learning about self-publishing, I have also been learning a lot about my computer and new processes, and today, I decided it was time to organize and clear out a lot of unnecessary and duplicate files.  I came across some interesting things in the process!  One was the following entry that I remember writing after such a magical experience, and I want to share.  Enjoy!  And Happy Easter!

So, I think it’s all in the surrender – to the process of life, to our being exactly where we need to be (and maybe even secretly, want to be), and to the faith that we are not in harm’s way all the time.  That we really are creating and have created the best-case scenario for what we need now, to further us in our enlightenment, or something close along that line. 

Car trouble and car repairs just send me into a hot frenzy. (So does dental trouble, but that’s a whole other story!!)   Literally, my body goes hot and I break into a terrible sweat, anticipating the worst.  The worst being… I don’t even know!!   I just anticipate something horrible.  (Which never happens….)

Money figures in prominently, for sure.  “I won’t have enough to pay for my car or it will put me in other dire straits.”  This used to be true, many years ago, not now, but the fear still runs through me/my mind every time something goes wrong with my car.  Knock wood, I have had nearly no trouble for three years, since I bought my current car.  It’s a 1999, though, and starting to feel its age.  It had 100,000 miles when I bought it, and I’ve driven across the country in it, as well as labored it with daily driving and a few lengthy road trips, so I make sure to keep it maintained (oil, fluids, belts, tires, etc.) regularly.  I know that my radiator is starting to go, has developed a crack, and will soon need to be replaced.  Ugh.  I’ve made an appointment to get it done next week.  And I know that it will all be OK, that I can afford it, that the mechanics will do a good job, and that it won’t be the first in a series of automotive maladies……

But back to the surrender thing.  And trust, really…  I took my car for an oil change/check up yesterday, as I had the day off, and had it on my ‘to do’ list for a tad too long.  Went to the place I’d been previously, but found an hour+ wait too long to waste, so was headed home, intending to return first thing next morning when I could get in right away.  But on the way home, I remembered a place a few folks had referred me to - pulled over and called them, found  they could take me right then, AND they were three blocks from where I was!!!!  AND their price was less than what I would have paid at the original stop.  Bingo.

Besides that, the waiting room was nice!!!  Spacious, clean, nice furniture, live plants, and a clean bathroom!  AND the gal at the desk let me fax a few pages that I'd been driving around with for a week, trying to find a place to do that.  Four for four.  They weren't the fastest team in town, but I figured they were thorough.  When finished, the mechanic gave me a detailed checklist/evaluation sheet that I read once I got home.  One of the notes was "oil leak....need engine steam cleaned to determine source.  $39.95."  I'm thinking, "Pyeah, like I'll get THAT done.  They want to replace a bulb over my license tag for $22.00.  I don't think so..."  And that was that.  Paperwork on my desk to deal with later. 

This morning was that 'later.'   Due at work in 20 minutes, I cranked the car, pulled out of the driveway, and a mile away, smelled some burny smell and started seeing smoke.  Yikes!!!  "Maybe it's just oil from yesterday burning off.  I'll go on to work and take care of it tomorrow."  And then more smoke and the engine light.  Yikes again!  Three years, this car has never popped the engine light!  "I"m turning around and heading back  to the mechanic."  Called into work and canceled my appointment (this is a trust thing in itself:  the appointment was with someone I really did not want to work with!), drove straight to the shop, and huffed into the front office.  Mr. Personality (not) at the desk asked me my name, then started typing with two fingers for a full minute, answered a phone call and talked to another mechanic about a green Honda, and typed in another few hundred keystrokes while I stood  waiting, feeling annoyed and anxious.  The fear in me took my mind to "WHY is this happening?  What did I do wrong?  What's next?!?"  Natural first reaction.  Car thing.  Until I stopped and thought, "Well, if it's happening, it's probably OK, and might even be good.  All Divine, right?"  Instantly, I felt better.  Maybe not 100% better, but better!

Turns out the mechanic suspected the new oil filter put in yesterday "must have a pin hole and the oil leaked out, all over your engine.  That's what you smelled - it's right here by the exhaust system.  I'll pull it and see.  And we'll power steam clean your engine before you take off so it won't keep smelling."  Hmmm......that sounded good! 

Indeed, it was what he'd suspected.  "That's happened two times in thirty-six years."  So I got a second oil filter, another inspection, a free steam cleaning, a big apology, and, for my trouble, a ten percent discount on my radiator replacement next week (which would be significant savings!).  So really, what I'm saving with the discount and the steam cleaning, I made up the lost wages of the morning.

What are the odds?  It made me smile and so appreciate the flawless design and humor of Divinity, and having been able to change my attitude of fear and anxiety to one of surrender and acceptance.  Somehow, it almost feels like that is what brought about the magical outcome. 

I'm guessing I'll have another chance to try it out.  Maybe I'll make a dental appointment for next week, see what happens!