There’s a saying that families only get together for weddings and funerals but that’s not true – there are other times and reasons like special birthdays and graduations, especially of grandkids. It can be really hard if there is a divorce in the mix – you want to have it special and wonderful for the happy celebrations but if the wound never fully healed, each event kind of tears it open a bit so you get to dreading something you should be happily looking forward to. As my ex has chosen to share his ongoing life with 3 other women since the initial devastation that was the end of my time with him, our sons have had to accept each new person in their father’s life and learn to move on when each one no longer was what he wanted. They have done so admirably, determined to keep their connection with their dad and with me, putting up with all the difficulties that go with all this. While I can look at each change as further proof it is my ex with the problem of not being able to sustain a relationship, it has been hard to override my own throw-away status and replacement. The following poem summed it up at one time:
Trade In
He won't lift a finger
To mend a relationship,
Although he'll patch,
nurture and repair
His "$200 special" cars -
While the wrecker
Hauls his wife away,
Replaced by a newer model.
(He used to find cars with 90,000 miles on them which the former owner would part with for only $200. Being skilled and handy, he could usually repair them and thus we had several of these $200 specials at different times but when it came to our marriage, he refused to do any counseling or therapy - no repairs and definitely no nurture.)
So my own struggle has been to find my worth for I felt like a throw-away which, despite much therapy and work and courses and interests, has been a hard feeling to counter.
I finally realized that there is one way in which I matter through it all that no other woman can and that is I am the mother of two wonderful sons and while the other women could bear him additional sons or daughters; our two exist only because of me. All these other women could not be the mother of these two fine men and now the grandmother of 2 fine young grandsons. In terms of worth – this is priceless!
Monday, February 28, 2011
Friday, February 11, 2011
Attitude of Gratitude
Go forth and try to start and/or end each day finding something to be grateful for. There are so many – there’s the moment when I uncover my 3 birds and they greet me with birdie chatter – they start each day happy and singing.
Then the fun time of checking e-mails and sites on the computer – finding family and friends there because they are too far away to be here.
Finishing the work I do on time, knowing maybe 20-30 people with health problems now have timely and accurate records in the (ready for this – drum roll please) Electronic Medical Record system, henceforth to be called the EMR.
Delivering the work and picking up more, with brief encounters with other employees of each practice and occasionally a chance to say “hi” to the doctor.
Passing through the medical office building careful to not have doors close on someone coming up or down the stairs behind me or the occasional small child dancing down the hall freely and delightfully – alive – happily alive. And crossing the highway to one more office where there are several crows standing on a snow bank – letting me approach fairly close without fear – how I wished I had some bread with me – maybe next time I’ll think of it – but then maybe it’s not good for them to learn to not fear me.
The drive home – yes – not having to park my butt in someone else’s office for an 8 hour day or whatever the shift – and working at home with my 3 little tiels hanging out in my home office with me. Love it when Ginger chooses to sit on my head and Tori gets on my shoulder singing in my ear – Tori – I can’t hear the dictation when you are loud!!
Meeting a neighbor in the park I live in – a smile, short chit chat – knowing we are all there and all care. And the neighbors – what special people – one across the street using his mighty snow blower to help many of us clear our drives – another who helps pull the snow off her neighbors’ roofs – next door who helps me clear some snow from my roof on his side of my house – it’s a real neighborhood.
And gratitude for the amazing and phenomenal luck that brought 2 young men down my street just when I was out in the yard and they were looking for roofs to shovel before we had damage – at a price I could say yes to – and they did an amazing job – shoveling the roof, the porch roof and then cutting about in half the huge piles of snow previously raked off the roof by me – that stuff was heavy and they finished in an hour.
Actually the list is endless – I suppose in some way even this snow, as endless as it all was and threatening as it was has a gift within it in some way – replenishing aquifers – work for all the plowers and sanders – work for roof shovelers – and even the chance to play for the skiers, snowboarders, tubers, and snowshoers.
And then – tomorrow is another day – and there is sure to be more. But I also know one can get into a dark hole where gratitude is hard to find or see – a friend who is very ill and may not make it – if only we truly believed that there was life in some way after our body dies – and death was not an ending but a beginning – like a graduation into another level of being – then such illness and sadness would be about the loss and the missing of these wonderful special people in our lives but also gratitude that they had moved on to whatever comes next. Some believe there is something, some do not – and mostly we don’t know until it is our turn. Can’t help but think that being born must not feel very good to the baby being born – to go from the lovely comforting womb filled with fluid to being pushed out and then into a world where that fluid is gone, wrapped into a receiving blanket – and all that takes place with a birth – no wonder crying is one of the first utterances we can make. Thus we enter this life. Maybe dying is another kind of birth.
Maybe.
Then the fun time of checking e-mails and sites on the computer – finding family and friends there because they are too far away to be here.
Finishing the work I do on time, knowing maybe 20-30 people with health problems now have timely and accurate records in the (ready for this – drum roll please) Electronic Medical Record system, henceforth to be called the EMR.
Delivering the work and picking up more, with brief encounters with other employees of each practice and occasionally a chance to say “hi” to the doctor.
Passing through the medical office building careful to not have doors close on someone coming up or down the stairs behind me or the occasional small child dancing down the hall freely and delightfully – alive – happily alive. And crossing the highway to one more office where there are several crows standing on a snow bank – letting me approach fairly close without fear – how I wished I had some bread with me – maybe next time I’ll think of it – but then maybe it’s not good for them to learn to not fear me.
The drive home – yes – not having to park my butt in someone else’s office for an 8 hour day or whatever the shift – and working at home with my 3 little tiels hanging out in my home office with me. Love it when Ginger chooses to sit on my head and Tori gets on my shoulder singing in my ear – Tori – I can’t hear the dictation when you are loud!!
Meeting a neighbor in the park I live in – a smile, short chit chat – knowing we are all there and all care. And the neighbors – what special people – one across the street using his mighty snow blower to help many of us clear our drives – another who helps pull the snow off her neighbors’ roofs – next door who helps me clear some snow from my roof on his side of my house – it’s a real neighborhood.
And gratitude for the amazing and phenomenal luck that brought 2 young men down my street just when I was out in the yard and they were looking for roofs to shovel before we had damage – at a price I could say yes to – and they did an amazing job – shoveling the roof, the porch roof and then cutting about in half the huge piles of snow previously raked off the roof by me – that stuff was heavy and they finished in an hour.
Actually the list is endless – I suppose in some way even this snow, as endless as it all was and threatening as it was has a gift within it in some way – replenishing aquifers – work for all the plowers and sanders – work for roof shovelers – and even the chance to play for the skiers, snowboarders, tubers, and snowshoers.
And then – tomorrow is another day – and there is sure to be more. But I also know one can get into a dark hole where gratitude is hard to find or see – a friend who is very ill and may not make it – if only we truly believed that there was life in some way after our body dies – and death was not an ending but a beginning – like a graduation into another level of being – then such illness and sadness would be about the loss and the missing of these wonderful special people in our lives but also gratitude that they had moved on to whatever comes next. Some believe there is something, some do not – and mostly we don’t know until it is our turn. Can’t help but think that being born must not feel very good to the baby being born – to go from the lovely comforting womb filled with fluid to being pushed out and then into a world where that fluid is gone, wrapped into a receiving blanket – and all that takes place with a birth – no wonder crying is one of the first utterances we can make. Thus we enter this life. Maybe dying is another kind of birth.
Maybe.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Winter Wonderland
The nor’easter of January 12, 2011! This was how it looked by noon after the first shoveling. I think we got close to another foot of snow before it ended with a lot of drifting from the wind. It brings to my mind the many snow thoughts and images from other storms –
There’s that beginning of the snow – the Taste of Winter –
The sky goddess
Sifts frozen crystals
Frosting the world beneath;
I dance with delight
In this confection,
Catching some on my tongue
Now and then.
Driving in the storm we have a different view:
Flakes of snow
Run before the wind
Changing my view
To cartoon dots of winter white
In my head lights.
On ponds we see:
Swirling flakes of snow
Spun by a winter wind
Into holographic sculptures
On a frozen pond,
Like some Star Trek person
Transporting into being.
And the newly created wonderland when it ends:
Soft new snow resting on branches
Collected in nooks and crannies
Like cotton puffs,
With breaks in continuity
Where little birds had landed
Coming and going to the feeders -
And then
The brilliant red of a cardinal
Perched in the bush next to the feeders -
Making this a living Christmas card
In my back yard.
Along with newly designed trees and bushes:
Pussywillow world,
branches tipped with cotton snow,
puffs of winter breath.
And soon the birds of winter with a new dance:
The snow storm shuffle,
With a kind of hop-shuffle step
Created by a sparrow in a snowstorm
Trying to uncover sunflower seed hearts
Hidden by the snow -
And kids come out to play:
Rosy-cheeked muffins
Toddling about,
Roly,
Poly,
Red, orange, yellow,
Purple, blue, green
Winter sprouts.
While new flowers grow:
Gloves and mittens sprout
From stairs, in halls, on sidewalks,
Winter hand flowers.
Monday, December 27, 2010
Let It Snow!!!
It's snowing outside - been doing it since late afternoon on Sunday (today is Monday, 12/27/10) - and it's supposed to keep on keeping on most of this day so who knows how much it will be when it ends. The title for this post is "Let It Snow" but we really don't have a choice about that. Can you imagine what it would be like if we could choose? Anyway - I wrote the following poem after another serious snow storm back in 2006. I think they had called it a blizzard at the time.
Blizzard of 2006
At 6 AM - it is already snowing,
Don't know when it started -
The temperature of 20 degrees
Will keep it light and fluffy.
On TV last night they were running
"no church" listings for today
Like school closing lists.
If you have to have a blizzard
It is better on a Sunday -
People can stay home
And the plows and sanders
Can do their work a little easier
Though I doubt driving the plow
Through near whiteout conditions
Is easy.
At noon I shoveled 8 inches -
Light fluffy snow -
But it kept coming -
Collecting and covering
That which I had cleared.
I watched out my window
Sideways snow -
Driven by the wind -
Sculpting shapes as it drifted
And built up to overhang
A roof edge - ready to fall
On any below -
In the evening,
I shoveled again -
Another 8 inches -
And still it snowed
Come to think of it -
Maybe God was using His
Snowblower in heaven -
Blowing the snow to earth;
For the next morning -
The sky was blue and the sun was shining.
Blizzard of 2006
At 6 AM - it is already snowing,
Don't know when it started -
The temperature of 20 degrees
Will keep it light and fluffy.
On TV last night they were running
"no church" listings for today
Like school closing lists.
If you have to have a blizzard
It is better on a Sunday -
People can stay home
And the plows and sanders
Can do their work a little easier
Though I doubt driving the plow
Through near whiteout conditions
Is easy.
At noon I shoveled 8 inches -
Light fluffy snow -
But it kept coming -
Collecting and covering
That which I had cleared.
I watched out my window
Sideways snow -
Driven by the wind -
Sculpting shapes as it drifted
And built up to overhang
A roof edge - ready to fall
On any below -
In the evening,
I shoveled again -
Another 8 inches -
And still it snowed
Come to think of it -
Maybe God was using His
Snowblower in heaven -
Blowing the snow to earth;
For the next morning -
The sky was blue and the sun was shining.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Dark Cloud
It is Holiday time – time for traveling, sometimes long distances to be with loved ones, family and friends. Too many are serving in the Military with the mission said to be preserving peace and going after al Qaeda and the Taliban far from home – threats from other countries – whew! I know I’m short on details but my point isn’t to tell the news – that’s in all the media – with the fear factor fanned constantly. News of bombs going off at embassies, and the process of either electronic (i.e., x-ray like) searches in airports or for those not sure of the TSA equipment safety you can let one of the agents feel you up (scuse me – do a detailed pat down) – all this to go through to get where you are going.
About 7 years ago or 3 years after 9/11, I wrote the following-
Dark Cloud
Fear has crept into our lives
Here in these United States -
For so long we lived in freedom,
Which included freedom from fear,
Until 9/11.
Now the fear is here -
Almost like a fog which can move
Through openings
We didn’t know were there -
Filling the spaces
We used to have when free from fear.
It is hard to see
In this dark cloud,
Hard to believe
The sun still shines,
Hard to trust
There will be a tomorrow.
We turn to each other now,
Connect more,
Talk of love more,
For love is the one surety
In this time of fear.
So much that used to
Separate us,
Divide us,
Isolate us -
Seems so unimportant
In these fearful times -
Perhaps our growing love
For each other,
Can dissipate the fear cloud,
Just as the sun burns the mist away
Of a foggy day –
As we sing
To the children in my church:
“Go now in peace, go now in peace,
May the light of love surround you,
Everywhere, everywhere,
You may go.”
As we end 2010, may it be so.
About 7 years ago or 3 years after 9/11, I wrote the following-
Dark Cloud
Fear has crept into our lives
Here in these United States -
For so long we lived in freedom,
Which included freedom from fear,
Until 9/11.
Now the fear is here -
Almost like a fog which can move
Through openings
We didn’t know were there -
Filling the spaces
We used to have when free from fear.
It is hard to see
In this dark cloud,
Hard to believe
The sun still shines,
Hard to trust
There will be a tomorrow.
We turn to each other now,
Connect more,
Talk of love more,
For love is the one surety
In this time of fear.
So much that used to
Separate us,
Divide us,
Isolate us -
Seems so unimportant
In these fearful times -
Perhaps our growing love
For each other,
Can dissipate the fear cloud,
Just as the sun burns the mist away
Of a foggy day –
As we sing
To the children in my church:
“Go now in peace, go now in peace,
May the light of love surround you,
Everywhere, everywhere,
You may go.”
As we end 2010, may it be so.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Monday, December 13, 2010
Christmas
Christmas in the 90s
Maybe there's snow - maybe not,
The magical presence of Santa Claus -
Modern derivative of Old Saint Nick,
With bag of toys - never tricks,
Travels by sleigh and flying reindeer -
Over our housetops,
Magical flight.
Down the chimney he comes
In the midst of the night -
So they say.
His presence brings presents
Once in the year,
And what had begun
As a spirit of giving,
Has morphed to a season
In which Christmas sales
May be the reason
We still earn a living!
I wrote this poem in the 90s and each year we see the stores and malls start earlier and earlier to put Christmas things out (even before Halloween now), trying to get a running start on sales. I don’t know if it helps – but it does also show up the web that ties so much together – good sales = jobs, manufacturing of goods. And poor sales mean layoffs and fewer jobs. We are so very interconnected in this!
Another part of all this are the endless Santa’s and lines for kids to tell Santa what they want him to bring them –
What You See Is Not What Is
In the card, a wonderful picture
Santa with a small child on his lap -
An image of the magic of Santa
And Christmas and children -
In reality -
The child screams and cries,
Stranger danger -
And this one the strangest of all -
Or perhaps - the coming to life
Of this white-haired, red-suited figure
Seen in stories and film
Is what frightens -
Mothers plead, cajole
To get the kid in the lap and picture -
Some even threaten
Muttering dire consequences
Under their breath,
While the photographer
Tries various toys and antics
To bring a momentary smile of glee
To that captive face caught on film.
This ritual of the season
Plays out every year -
There is always that first time though
That first encounter with Santa,
The fear and tears and struggles -
Is it any wonder -
That children having survived it,
Think Santa owes them big time?
Lastly comes after Christmas when while shopping for an after-Christmas birthday, one encounters:
Christmas Rubble
The holiday storm is over –
Store racks and displays picked clean
With remnants of fine gifts
Offered now at bargain prices –
Last step before junk;
Impossible to find
A choice birthday gift
In such rubble.
Maybe there's snow - maybe not,
The magical presence of Santa Claus -
Modern derivative of Old Saint Nick,
With bag of toys - never tricks,
Travels by sleigh and flying reindeer -
Over our housetops,
Magical flight.
Down the chimney he comes
In the midst of the night -
So they say.
His presence brings presents
Once in the year,
And what had begun
As a spirit of giving,
Has morphed to a season
In which Christmas sales
May be the reason
We still earn a living!
I wrote this poem in the 90s and each year we see the stores and malls start earlier and earlier to put Christmas things out (even before Halloween now), trying to get a running start on sales. I don’t know if it helps – but it does also show up the web that ties so much together – good sales = jobs, manufacturing of goods. And poor sales mean layoffs and fewer jobs. We are so very interconnected in this!
Another part of all this are the endless Santa’s and lines for kids to tell Santa what they want him to bring them –
What You See Is Not What Is
In the card, a wonderful picture
Santa with a small child on his lap -
An image of the magic of Santa
And Christmas and children -
In reality -
The child screams and cries,
Stranger danger -
And this one the strangest of all -
Or perhaps - the coming to life
Of this white-haired, red-suited figure
Seen in stories and film
Is what frightens -
Mothers plead, cajole
To get the kid in the lap and picture -
Some even threaten
Muttering dire consequences
Under their breath,
While the photographer
Tries various toys and antics
To bring a momentary smile of glee
To that captive face caught on film.
This ritual of the season
Plays out every year -
There is always that first time though
That first encounter with Santa,
The fear and tears and struggles -
Is it any wonder -
That children having survived it,
Think Santa owes them big time?
Lastly comes after Christmas when while shopping for an after-Christmas birthday, one encounters:
Christmas Rubble
The holiday storm is over –
Store racks and displays picked clean
With remnants of fine gifts
Offered now at bargain prices –
Last step before junk;
Impossible to find
A choice birthday gift
In such rubble.
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