Posts

Showing posts from May, 2007

What do kittens, 6 year olds and Irish dancing have in common?

Image
Part II: Six Year Olds I returned 15 years ago to my childhood home. The one I thought I was leaving behind forever when I got married at the ripe young age of 18. I took Mary Englebriet's advice and didn't look back. Well, that's not really true. When my naval-officer-husband would go on cruise for months at a time, I'd pack up children, and usually a cat and dog, and head for home. The distraction was good for all of us. But then we got stationed in Southern California, it became more and more difficult to spend time in Florida. As luck would have it, after I'd been divorced for a few years, my higher power, guardian angel or the fickle finger of fate, lined up my astrological stars and pointed me right back home. At that time in my life, it was an easy decision to make. Although I was in essence "going home" I felt in my heart I was moving forward not taking the proverbial step backwards. I didn't know at the time what was in store for me, but I did

What do kittens, 6 year olds and Irish dancing have in common?

Image
Not much, except that in the last few days, each has brought a special kind of joy to my ordinary, some might call ho-hum days. Part I: Recently I got two kittens. Well, not actually baby kittens, more like adolescent cats. The vet guesses that the frisky felines have just passed their first birthday, and in cat years that probably makes them the human equilvalent of 16 year olds who like to sleep all day and get into mischief in the wee hours of the morning. Long, sleek, black, and panther-like, it's easy to see these rescued-minutes-from-drowning-in-a-well cats have some Siamese in them. If you've seen the movie Lady and the Tramp, my two are every bit as troublesome as Si and Am. Sometimes, I even think I can hear them singing, "we are S i-am-ese if you ple-eese." A little shy and skittish at first, they are each coming into his/her own persona. Not yet given names that exactly fit their personality, their veterinary records have them labled as "Him" and

Three Cups of Tea

“I’m no military expert. And these figures might not be exactly right. But as best as I can tell, we’ve launched 114 Tomahawk cruise missiles into Afghanistan so far. Now take the cost of one of those missiles tipped with a Raytheon guidance system, which I think is about $840,000. For that much money, you could build dozens of schools that would provide tens of thousands of students with a balanced non-extremist education over the course of a generation. Which do you think will make us more secure?” Greg Mortenson Try as I might, in my fifty-five years of living, I’ve never been much good at breaking the rules. I always studied for spelling tests, wait to be seated by a hostess even if there is an available table right in front of me and no other people in line, and bypass parking spaces that are reserved for the “Handicapped,” “an employee of the month,” or “expectant mothers.” Admittedly, my law abidingness is not always about having a super active conscience. Ever since being expo

Dear Mom,

It's funny that I remember clearly what the room looked like, and how time stood still when you drew your last breath, but I can't remember the year it happened. Some days it seems like it was just yesterday and sometimes I'm sure it happened eons ago. I remember that morning in the hospital, knowing the breaths you were taking were your last. I remember holding your hand and assuring you Dad would be okay; that I'd take care of him for you. I remember not wanting you to go; but praying that your trip across the abyss from this world to the next would not be long or hard. You were so brave, I wanted to be brave too. It's not easy to be brave when your heart is breaking. Dad and I have had some struggles since I made you that promise. Without you here to mediate we've butted heads a few times. I fell in love with a man that I feel sure you'd like. And now, after some time together, even Dad has grown fond of him. Since you've been gone, I've moved out

Words! Words! Words!

For as long as I can remember I've lived my life in a state of semi-fear. You name it, at one time or another I've probably been afraid of it. Even though I've out-grown most of my childhood fears like daddy long spiders (as long as I'm on the other side of the road) and not being able to get under my desk fast enough in the case of a Cuban missile strike,as an adult I carry around more than my share of chickenheartedness. Fear of failure or success; fear of being loved or not being loved; fear of attachment or fear of abandonment; etc, etc, etc. Fear isn't a new thing for me, but as I move through the second half of my life, I wonder if it isn't time to unlock the shackles of fmy fears and see how far I might soar. I had an "ah ha" moment not long ago. The light bulb went off and I heard myself say, "I'm afraid of words." I agree, my epiphany was a strange one, even for me, but that's what happens in therapy. Just when I think I'