The Almost Daily Thread

musings from the blue chair

Dance 3

Sometimes one doesn’t need words. Sometimes the magic of the moment and how quickly the scene can change.


Pomp and Circumstance – The Class of 2015

Pomp and circumstance makes me cry. From my own graduation – The Class of 1967 – Russell High and after a few decades UK and Marshall. Then to my daughters high school and college graduations.  I still know the separation anxiety from back then. Uggg. And now, now? How did this all happen so quickly – my oldest grandchild’s high school graduation? The Class of 2015. So many changes.

William, who I held all night when he was 6 weeks old through a glorious Christmas Eve with a full moon on snow; who taught me to play trucks and then to read maps. I would pick him up at day care and after feeding him (because school makes a kid really hungry) he would draw a map. In actuality it was scribbles on a piece of paper but when we went outside he would follow the lines and we’d walk around town following his detailed instructions, explainations and directions.

I tried to understand Pokémon and listened intently but never really latched onto their collective significance. He left me with his extensive capabilities with Legos. Although I did spend many hours in ToysRUs agonizing over which box to buy.  Can you say Star Wars up the walls of his bedroom?

I sewed the official flag for Sector 7. We had road trips, one to buy a ridiculously expensive organic free range turkey for Thanksgiving. He navigated, perfectly through road construction. (Maybe it was the training from the  kindergarten map game. Hummm).

He liked to spend the night and we would talk about life’s maneuverings about soccer and bullying team mates. He helped me build labyrinths. I saved him from having to ride the school bus more often than not. “Gram, don’t make me ride the bus today.  Please come and get me!”

I took him all three times to drivers license testing. And then he was off – launched via a plastic card into his own world – friends, engineering classes, soccer, clubs,  and girls. No more exploring with a grandmother.
While Grandmother status eliminates the daily responsibilities of child nurturing, it is also a generation removed from the intimate dependency of parent-child. My link with William (and the other four) a generation removed. So I was “re-placed” by the growing up and away options. And while I know this is for sure, absolutely, positively the way things happen, I miss him.   And I know for sure, absolutely, positively our blood connection will never change nor will our history together and thus the influence we have had on each other is genetic and a part of who he is.

Life is ever changing. Like the DNA strands people, situations, places and things come together and separate. We come together and we grow apart while coursing through the mutable rapids of life where we hold tightly onto love and relationships while writing our stories a chapter at a time.  This is the unchanging part, the foundation part.

And I do not wish to stop you, William, or hinder your growth, or keep you from experiencing that which peaks your curiosity. I miss your childhood. And I do know that no matter where you go and what you do I will always be your grandmother – your favorite grandmother in Scott County. I am the one who rocked you that Christmas Eve when we talked of the life ahead. And I am the grandmother who once bought you a popcorn pan for your birthday and I am the one who lost you in the lobby of the hotel in Florida when you were two years old. And, yes, on my watch you only fell down the stairs once.  Only once. Oh and then there is the curling iron event.

Yet you did grow up, in spite of it all!

(Changing the words by inserting boy for girl, obviously!)

May your warrior heart be guided by compassion, tenacity, joy and love. And may the pitfalls be pot holes not sink holes.

I love you, William. Always.


Wrap-Up for 2014

From the mid 1800's through smartphones!

From the mid 1800’s through smartphones!


In response to my blogging friend at invitation I am responding to the 2014 Wrap-Up Challenge.  I offered to write for today.

What lessons did I learn?
Well, because I did not read daily and I let the month slip by, which December can so swiftly do, I realize the drafts for my Jan 30 post for litebeings 2014 Wrap-Up Challenge doesn’t fit the prescribed format. I didn’t completely read the directions. Drat! My initial understanding was to pick a question and go for it! So, thinking about this but not committing anything to paper I am two days from Publish and not really prepared. I do know there are no lashes or grades here. Just a noticing about my personal lessons! Mostly, I am prepared ahead of time. I do not like last minute rush, or get it done panic.
I also know that the best laid plans are often up for change at the last minute but laying the ground work allows for change to occur more smoothly. And I then am not too scattered to enjoy the event.
However, completely reading the directions brings up a whole other issue for me! Maybe now I will get the setting right for the dome lights to come on in my car when the door opens. My car is 5 years old! I know. Ridiculous. Opportunity for learning is up for review.

How did I serve others?
Some people I assisted by offering a shoulder and a listening ear, some by sharing my own story, some by being available, by feeding them and loving them, or in some way supporting them.
I like to help people and so I offer my support in many ways. Certainly through the Reiki sessions and shares, Akashic Record consults, workshops on creativity I assist others in their self-awareness growth. And I am a listener and a cheerleader for many. People feel safe with me and can share their secrets and fears and dreams.  I love that.
What blessings did I receive?
By watching people grow in understanding of themselves and their uniqueness, discovering their gifts and shedding their fears, I am blessed.
It’s been a very interesting to step into my “crone” stage and realize my life experience and study translates into something useful for others. Even now, I hesitate to write “words of wisdom” yet I know I have achieved a level of understanding and truth which I am very satisfied and comfortable with. And in sharing my story and knowledge it is merely that – sharing. The person listening or asking is responsible for using or discarding my words, leaving me off the hook.  So words of wisdom take them or leave them and I get to tell stories.  I love that, also!
Something I lost that turned into a blessing in disguise?
From the mid 1800’s through today my pictures and memorabilia are finally, at long last in order. Linear order. In 10 three inch binders complete with custom designed label, my life and who genetically came before me are in plastic sheets. The process took most of the winter of 2014. I fed the wood stove and sorted. My trip down memory lane was an emotional roller coaster. Purging and condensing what others saved proved, to say the least, difficult. In the end, however, the notebooks make much more sense than five Rubbermaid tubs of chaos.
I made decisions and tossed and kept so those down the line wouldn’t have to. I suspect a greater majority of the family history would have been tossed because I am the living connection, the one who knows the most – well besides my cousin, Sherry. We have become the crones.
In these life reviews I visited there were times when I struggled, was intensely loved, was confused, grief stricken and sometimes giddy and happy. I visited many relatives and their legacy and how their lives affected mine. I spent hours in review. A Fascinating, enlightening, and gut-wrenching process.
Now, I have project complete and a visual storybook.
Did I receive any gifts in terms of powers or skills?
My own stronger sense of my authentic self is my gift.


Christmas and carrots

2014-12-05 22.00.36

christmas tree with carrot

I awoke Monday morning knowing the seasonal blahs were creeping in on me.  I thought maybe I was just missing Thanksgiving and the lovely holiday made for eating and talking. I considered going to the kitchen taking all the dishes out of the cabinets and washing them but knew Christmas would arrive anyhow.
For me, Christmas carries a degree of sadness and melancholy.  For some years past it nearly consumed me.  So, I have learned to “feel” it coming and have incorporated some new “traditions” that make me happy – like taking each of my grandchildren Christmas shopping for their parents and siblings – after we have dinner at a place of their choice. And I have found some new ways to decorate and liven up the place without too much hoopla.  It’s just no fun to foofy up the place alone.
Feeling the nose-dive nostalgia staring me down, I called a good friend for lunch.  Thai food is good for uplifting the spirits, huh?  And so not Christmasy.  I mean where would you get a Plum pudding anyway?  I think Uncle John wrote a Christmas letter about that once, alas, the nostalgia spiral. He even sent a recipe. I’ve never tried it.
My friend frequents this Thai restaurant and has become friendly with the owner and the cooks so much so the owner brought her food to our table, sat down to chat.  Soon, the waitress/cook joined us and did most of the chatting.  She shared her story.  She was born and raised in Laos under Communist rule, was so unhappy she swam 3 hours across the Mekong River into Thailand where she was immediately put in jail and then into a refugee camp for a year where there was so little food they ate mice.  She was then brought here by the US government to Akron, Ohio under sponsorship.
Well, she sure made my nostalgia seem incredibly whiney and I knew that my Christmas season sniveling was about to dry up.  Now, I’ve dealt with many deaths, a few divorces, abandonment issues, lack of trust, lack of faith, some, ok, many layers of self-esteem issues –to name only a few– but I for sure never had to deal with escaping my own country under threat of death through unknown, extremely dangerous perils. I was witnessing a woman with some courage.
I stand in gratitude for the comfort of my home, my government.  Well, as a “big brother” product of my generation and a reader of the conspiracy theories, I have some hesitation in giving safety in the US carte blanche – but USA by far better than many places.
The rest of her story I can’t really print because the language and the story turns a bit off color. Happens that the Thai word for cut sounds awfully like our current favorite profanity — yes, the F-word.  Several new immigrant were in the sponsor’s kitchen preparing food for visitors. One newby came into the dining room asking is she needed to, cut (insert Thai word) the carrot. You need cut (insert Thai word) cantelope.  And the story continues with with this woman saying, “You no need cut (insert Thai word) carrot.  I’m just saying that cutting a carrot bilingually brought Christmas cheer back to me with teary laughter.
I am so grateful for Pad Thai.
Oh, and she says mice taste more like squirrel than like chicken.