Remembering Daddy...

As I opened the door late last night, to let the dog out, I realized that it was a lot cooler outside than it was in the house…

I followed the dog outside and sat down in a rocking chair on the patio.  Of course, I immediately looked up at the stars.  I cannot look at the stars without thinking about my daddy.  We used to lay on his USMC green, wool blanket on the back lawn and look at the stars.  He would tell us the names of the constellations and how sailors used the stars to navigate.

I’ve told the story many times before, along with a lot of other memories about my daddy, on my blogs.  I guess the star-gazing memory is special to me…

As I sat there, looking up at the stars, I realized that my memories are tangible to me; perhaps because I think about them—and Daddy—often.  Something else occurred to me as I sat there: all those memories from so long ago happened right here in this same backyard.

Tangible memories….

I can sit where he sat, eat where he ate, look at pictures from our house back then….that is still my house now, and remember him.  And when I do, I feel surrounded and comforted by those same memories.

Life ends, eventually, for all of us.  I am so glad that my daddy lives on in my memories…

Happy Father’s Day, Daddy!

Remember Me...

Today is a difficult day for many of us.  It is hard to be devoid of expectations on a day filled with commercial hype…. 

For those of us who have lost our own mother, it is a sad day, too.  And if, like me, you had a difficult relationship with your mother, it can be even harder.  Sometimes, I just wish I could show her that I have “turned out all right” and that I am not a failure… Other times, I feel guilty for thinking how much better off I am without her guilt trips.

As for my own children, I don’t harbor much in the way of expectations.  I am lucky enough to know that they love me, and that’s enough.  I can’t deny that I would love the special brunch, or dinner, or a barbeque in my honor, but it isn’t really necessary.

I look back on the years when my children were young, and I see things I did, or didn’t do, that I would like to change. Of course, that’s not possible.  I have to remind myself that I did the best I could at the time and that I did better than my own mother did for me. 

That’s what it’s about really: doing things better than the last generation.  Doing or undoing things that we remember from childhood.  There are many things from my childhood that I didn’t do to my children and I am grateful for that.  It means that lessons were learned, albeit the hard way.  I am also sure that my mother did better than her strict, Germanic mother did.  It’s a progression, a journey, toward perfection as a mother….

My mother has been gone for thirty-two years, nearly half my life.  I have reviewed and relived many things from the past in my mind, second-guessing her motives and chastising myself for not being different, or “better” than I was….

But it all comes to naught.  The past is the past.  The future isn’t here yet, and today is all we have.  So today, I am grateful to have three beautiful children who have grown into loving, responsible adults.  I am glad that I taught them to be independent and that they mastered it. 

  

I guess what I’m trying to say is that I love my children and I know they love me.  I don’t need anything special on Mother’s Day, just what I hope they do every day: remember me.

And to my children: please know how much you mean to me and how proud I am of you.  I pray for you every day and think about you always.  I see you in your own children and I delight in the memories they evoke for me.  I know you love me and that you appreciate what I did for you, and you are most welcome!

Just please, remember me….

Birthday...

Forty-eight years ago today, I became a mother. I didn't care whether I had a boy or a girl as long as the baby was healthy. God, in His Infinite Wisdom, gave me a little girl and I named her Jennifer. She was so cute and cuddly and smiled so easily. If I was overwhelmed by motherhood, she calmed my fears. The person in my life that she most reminds me of is my Other Mother, Jean Harriet Bryant. Although Jean is gone, Jennifer embodies her spirit of gentle kindness and concern for others. She has grown into a magnificent woman with features chiseled by her experiences and a heart untouched by the evil in the world. She is my first child, my only daughter, and the light of my life. 
Happy Birthday, Little Girl!!

[P]interesting....

It’s hard to believe that summer is almost over, but it is.  Around here, the kids are back in school, even as the temperatures are languishing perilously close to the triple digit mark.  But the seasons really are in transition, I believe. Yesterday, I purchased faux flowers (I love that term) in lovely fall colors…

I have a party coming up a month from today, and I want to be ready.  Of course, that means turning to my fave internet site: Pinterest .  With almost 36,000 “pins” to date, you might think that my house is cleaned using homemade, environmentally-friendly household ingredients. My house is impeccably decorated for the current holiday season. Our meals are healthy, nutritious, and beautiful to see. We travel to exotic places frequently. I wear fashionable clothes, accessorize perfectly, wear cute shoes, and use Nutella in hundreds of different ways. Oh, and I buy things at flea markets and spruce them up with chalk paint…

Yeah, right.

I guess, for some, Pinterest is the stuff of daydreams, or good intentions.  Or just a “trip” to another place, I suppose.  Not me.  I have actually made some of the recipes I have pinned, used some of the cleaning tips, decorated with ideas I saw on Pinterest, and  printed out my favorite quotes.

It’s not all about me, either.  I have a board full of garden ideas for him to do….(hasn’t happened yet, but I’m an optimist!).  I have found great ideas for birthday presents, birthday cards, and scrapbooking.

It’s a never-ending journey of discovery and learning.  Fascination and frustration.  No, the recipes aren’t always tested, the chalk paint may be a little thick, and the “easy” thing isn’t always easy.  It’s a lot of trial and error but, as one of my favorite quotes says: “if you’re not failing, you’re not trying.”

And so, I pin.  Every day, at least once a day.  I find the most wonderful things and add them to my life. Some of my current favorite “things” are:

I have collected quotes forever, but now they're all in one place!

 

My favorite place to be....

A fairly new board filled with snippets of history.

 

I started this board when I was planning my studio.

 

Would LOVE to have an RV again!

Who doesn't like cheap?

 

My current fave color (sorry, Pink!)

 

I'm really liking industrial style right now...

Whatever you do today, enjoy the ride!

Cali

Happy Birthday, Matthew...

What do you say to someone you haven’t seen in eight years?  How do you explain all that has happened since he left?  Or all that happened when he was younger?  How do you communicate with children who speak Italian?  What is there to say, after all these years?

Today is my younger son’s birthday.  I sent him a birthday wish on Facebook.  I think about him all the time, and even more so on his birthdays and holidays.  It’s tough: we don’t communicate well.  Not just Matthew and me, but all of us in our family.  Most of us don’t like to talk on the phone, don’t write letters, don’t Skype, and then regret that we don’t do it.

Sending him a package costs nearly fifty dollars.  A phone call isn’t much cheaper, either.  Ah, excuses, right?  Yes.  And more.  I am not sure I could talk to him on the phone without crying.  I know I would not be able to explain my tears to him, either.

I feel as if part of me is gone, broken, or lost.  I feel the need to reconnect with my son but I cannot do it by myself.  I have tried sending an email to all three of my kids, hoping it would spark an interest in communicating with each other.  We could just “reply all” and share our day-to-day life with each other.  Didn’t happen…

I tell myself that, even though I don’t hear from Matt, he does love me and miss me, too.  I tell myself that it is just the Great Communication Barrier that keeps us from getting in touch with each other.  I tell myself that it is my duty, as a parent, to keep the lines of communication open with my kids.  And I tell myself that I’m not doing a very good job.

Why?  I don’t really know.  Maybe it is just easier to miss him desperately than to tell him and make him feel bad.  I know he’s busy, I know his life is full with family, work, and whatever else he chooses to do with his time.

And I tell myself that we are going to sit down and have a chat about it.  Soon.  I will tell him how much I love him and miss him and that I wish I could find a way to keep in touch with him.  I will tell him stories about when he was growing up and how he delighted us with his wit and wisdom.

And I will apologize for hurting his feelings when he was 7.  He rode his bicycle all the way out to his grandparent’s house (8 miles away) because I said something that hurt him and he wanted Grandma to comfort him.  I will ask him to forgive me for being unkind because I didn’t really mean to be…

I will hug him and spend some quality time with him.

He’s coming home to visit June 18^th……

Cali