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Showing posts from 2008

One Year Over ...

“Generosity consists not the sum given, but the manner in which it is bestowed” Unknown As this day ends so does another year. I haven't written anything in the past weeks because, as usual, I got caught up in the whirlwind of holiday shopping, wrapping, mailing and decorating. Even though I thought I had downsized in all categories, I still somehow managed to have way more to do than time to do it in. But here's the strange part. I was on "go" most of the time, but I never really got frazzled. Oh sure, I poured myself into bed every night, and fussed at my sweetie more than once, but I don't think I experienced as much anxiety as in years past. And I definitely found time to listen to Christmas music and rest in the spirit of the holiday. These are good things! I haven't been writing but I have been thinking - reflecting. And this is what I've decided. For me, the theme of 2008 has been generosity. Everywhere I've turned this year I've had an almo

30 Places I'd Like to Sleep

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15. In a hammock strung between two palm trees, with a gentle ocean breeze to keep me cool. 14. I think I'd like to be a kid again all tucked into my bed , wearing my new Christmas flannel pajamas trying hard to stay awake to see Santa but knowing the sooner I go to sleep, the sooner I can awake to the magic that is Christmas. I think when you are old(er) and there are no kids around, Christmas just doesn't feel the same. That doesn't mean it's not still good, it is just not magical - kind of like hot chocolate without the marshmallows! The baby Jesus, red flannel pjs, toys that don't need batteries, sitting on Santa's lap, holiday meltdowns, homemade stockings filled with goodies, decorating sugar cookies, shaking and counting the packages under the tree, school plays, wishes, candy canes, Christmas pageants, it's all really about kids isn't it? 13. At the El Tovar Hotel at the edge of the Grand Canyon. I always believed I was a beachy kind of girl. An

Rainbow Moment

“So much of who we are comes from those who have touched us, other lives we have shared. When we mourn a loss we also celebrate all the ways that another’s life is reflected in our own.” Hallmark card My neighbor died last night. He was 83. He had been battling cancer for the past few months. His fight is over now. I'm sad, but mostly glad he's not suffering any more. I believe he's in a better place. What's especially hard when someone dies, is knowing what to say to the ones that are left behind. Even if it's true, they don't especially want to hear, "he's in a better place." A couple of weeks ago I had a rather unique experience. I was asked to sit with my neighbor while his sister went and did some things. I knew that things might not be pretty. But I went with a happy heart and a desire to be with George. My priest used to call it the ministry of presence. He assured me I didn't have to say anything, that people often just want a person to

Moved by Art

"Art is pictures straight from the heart." Ben, Los Cerros Middle School, 1999 I had a rather unique experience today. I don't believe it's ever happened before. I wonder if it will ever happen again. As I was slowing for a traffic light that was about to change from red to green I glanced into the window of a small art gallery* and caught just a glimpse of a painting that I knew I had to see close up. Like the fairy wings of a couple weeks ago, I knew this picture was worth a trip around the block. My tires didn't squeal, but I bet I made it back to square one in record time. I was right about the picture - a Nativity scene done in brightly colored oils. It was worth the trip. Perhaps it is because I go to an Hispanic church and have grown fond of their use of color, but I felt like this picture in it's abstract beauty had a Latin feel to it. I poked my nose to the glass trying to get a closer look. Already gone from home for most of the day, I had no busines

Cat's Cradle

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"Cat's cradle is a well known series of string figures. The name of the entire game, the specific figures, their order, and the names of the figures vary. Versions of this game have been found in indigenous cultures all over the world--from the Arctic to the Equatorial zones."* I don't know where the name "Cat's Cradle"comes from. I began to get a clue, however, when I woke up to find a ball of yarn strewn across two rooms. Undoubtedly a certain girl cat who had a way too much time on her paws was to blame. The evidence is circumstanial. I don't believe it would stand up in a court of law. But I know these black felines pretty well. The girl cat is not afraid to sniff around a bag of yarn when the lights are low and the house quiet. Boy cat might watch and egg her on, but there's no way he's brave enough to do the dirty work. Take a look for yourself and see what I mean. 1. Down the hall 2. Around the corner 3. Into the den 4. Onto the desk 5

Was it as good for you ????

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"Feeling gratitude and not expressing it is like wrapping a present and not giving it." William Arthur Ward Here we are, the day after Thanksgiving. As if the days of the year aren't already moving fast enough, the time from now to Dec. 31st is going to pass by like a snowball rolling downhill, picking up speed and extra snow as it goes. The time of the year that should be the most sacred, the most meditative goes by in a big blur of decorations, Christmas carols, too much food and too much stress. See, I've already moved beyond this post-thanksgiving day. I think yesterday may have been one of my most organized, best choreographed food fests. Okay, so the turkey was just a teeny tiny tad undercooked (I know - gag!) and the brownies were just that much overcooked. I think it all evened out in the end. Mostly the the family dysfunction that usually shows itself in all its glory at holidays was missing. I remember laughing not bitching. I remember lively conversation,

Giving Thanks

"There is a calmness to a life lived in gratitude, a quiet joy." Ralph H. Blum I think I get the "quiet joy" part of that quotation. Haven't quite perfected the calmness! It's the night before Thanksgiving. I've baked 3 pies, 4 loaves of pumpkin bread and a pan of brownies (which I forgot about until just now so they may be a tad overdone. I hope no one notices) today. As I write potatoes are boiling away before being smashed and buttered. Wow! That almost sounds like I'm organized. But I'm not going to jinx things by patting myself on the back just yet. I think I'll wait to do that after the burnt brownies have been served. I may be organized when it comes to making a gala feast, but shamefully I've been so busy baking that I haven't stopped long enough today to count my blessings. Even though I whine a lot, I know that I am blessed; perhaps in more ways than I deserve. I've read some really good gratitude blogs and letters today

Homework Assignment

"No day is so bad it can't be fixed with a nap." Carrie Snow I'm not usually very good with assignments. Like exercising or dieting, an assignment is something I know I should do, but before I get started on it, I have to dig in my heels and whine a little. Yesterday at our writing group Carol told us of a good workbook to help stimulate writing [How to Think Like Leonardo Da Vinci by Michael Gelb] One of the author's suggestions was to jot down 100 questions you have about your life. 100 questions in 30 minutes. 100 free associative questions that don't have to have answers at the moment. The whole point is to get the questions down on paper. We didn't have time for a hundred so Carol asked us to write down 5. Here are mine ... Why am I so angry? How can I get my $$$s in order? How can I be more compassionate in the face of fear? How can I get to Seattle and Key West more often? How can I get more sleep? Good Lord, a few more questions like that and I'

Mary the Fairy Hartmeyer

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" Spread your wings and let the fairy in you fly! " Author Unknown When I was a little kid we lived in Philadelphia. Just learning to talk I am told I had my own way of saying things - chish (fish), chork (fork) and chank (Frank) - sort of a combo of toddler and south Philly. Also, for some reason that has never been thoroughly explained to me, I dubbed myself "Mary the fairy Hartmeyer." I must have had a thing a young man named Hartmeyer who worked for my father. Go figure! Mary the Fairy was a name that stuck over the years. Not stuck as in "Swaying Sapling" but it had enough staying power that one of my personas is easily influenced by fairy paraphernalia. I went to my writer's group this morning. It felt good. I felt free; or at least on a longer leash. My sister was making breakfast for Dad. I left his "where are you going?" comment at the door. [Note to self: Maybe the gruffness of his voice has nothing to do with what he's saying.

Crayola Wisdom

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"No word in the English language rhymes with the color names orange, silver or purple." Crayola.com I've said it before and I'm sure I'll say it again. I love Reddi Arts. It's more than an artist's paradise of canvas, paint and brushes. There's a little bit of heaven for everyone who walks in the door. You want books? Reddi Arts has them. Not your every day, run of the mill, novels. Reddi Arts stocks books that speak to your spirit. The kind of book that cries out to you when you pick it up to scan the jacket, "take me home, you'll be glad you did." Reddi Arts is the place to go if you want a picture framed. Reddi Arts is a kaleidoscope of delight if you are a lover of anything that has to do with paper, pens, crayolas, paint, glue, ribbon, greeting cards, soap, stamps, and on and on. I love Reddi Arts! I think it's been a few months since I have been in the store. It's a dangerous spot for my pocketbook. But today I had to drop

The "C" word

"When you think about it, what other choice is there but to hope? We have two options, medically and emotionally: give up, or fight like hell." Lance Armstrong We've actually been saying cancer in our house for about a month. It was tentative at first. We've known the doctor was removing "spots," either by cauterizing or surgery. But each time I figured the cancer was gone. After the last surgery, the doctor pretty much assured us that the cancer was going to repeatedly return. It was time to consider a more drastic kind of treatment. That, or be prepared for surgery every few months. Neither option sounded good to me and I'm not even the patient. Today we got the rundown on the corresponding "C" word - chemotherapy. Because Dad's age and so-so health the optimal treatment of bladder removal is a no-go. Thus, Dad and the doctor agreed on a mild dose of chemo. I asked a lot of questions but basically I'm just along for the ride (and, I

Alls well that ends well

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I was strolling through the hardware store when my phone rang. Expecting it to be my Sweetie wanting something else from the plumbing aisle, I was surprised to hear a woman's voice. Thick with what I thought was a Spanish (but turned out to be German) accent the voice expectantly asked if I might have her dog. Remembering to be careful about who I turned the stray over to, I asked a few questions. Not that I really needed to. From the moment I heard the yearning in the woman's voice I knew she was the one I worried about after I stopped worrying about the dog. She described him to a "T" even telling me about how he yelps when you touch the bump on his tale because it was once broken. Before the phone call was over I was making an appointment to give Blackie, aka Spud back to Eva. I tried not to be sad. In all honesty I can't afford the vet bills for another pet. Mainly I was really pleased that this story was going to have a happy ending. At 5:30 on the dot, Eva

Blackie

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Perhaps I've watched to many episodes of Cross Country and the Dog Whisperer. Perhaps I'm just a sucker for big brown eyes. Either way, I have fallen for a wayfaring stranger with 4 short legs and tail that seldom stops wagging. Last week, after dropping my sister off at the airport I drove home in one of those fogs where you think you're driving safely but in all actuality your mind is a million miles away from the activity at hand, i.e. going 65 miles per hour on a 4-lane highway. It always kind of surprises me to find I've gotten myself home in one piece. As I neared my own neighborhood on that fate-filled day, a black fur ball on the sidewalk next to a busy street pulled me from my depression. It seemed strange that a dog would have picked that particular spot to lie down and take a nap. Something was not quite. In an instant, I went from woe-is-me mode to Super Girl. Knowing I couldn't do the rescuing myself, that I needed my trusty sidekick, I sped home and ye

Touched by an Angel

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" A little consideration, a little thought for others, makes all the difference." Winnie the Pooh Terri St. Cloud became a friend of mine through one of those circuitous and serendipitous moments that life sometimes throws at you. A year ago, I took myself to the beach for a brief retreat. As if I had all the time in the world, not just a Saturday afternoon, I strolled into a store full of sweet smells, handmade gifts meant to bring one comfort and serenity. I met Bella who, not only convinced me of the recuperative value of a Tibetan Bowl massage, she pointed pointed out some bonesighart prints. Rather uncharacteristically attuned to the moment, I felt as if Bella was some kind of angel put in that spot on that day just for me. Her advice was correct on both counts. Sadly, not long after that the store closed and I never saw Bella again. I checked out the bonesighs web site, and through another angelic turn of events, began exchanging emails with Terri, a really cool lady ..

A much belated post

"Give love and unconditional acceptance to those you encounter, and notice what happens." Wayne Dyer I've had these thoughts in my head for awhile. I should have written them down weeks ago. A little background: Apparently it was no big surprise to anyone but me that when I moved back into my childhood home to care for my father in the last years of his life all my codependent traits flared back up with a vengeance. Slowly at first because when I first moved back I felt my adult persona still in charge. I sort of faced my father as a women in her fifties rather than a child of five. But as the years pass, my isolation grows and my inner age diminishes by years. While in conversation with my therapist during my most recent funk, we began to discuss codependence - again. "Oh that,"I recalled. "Didn't I already deal with that? Didn't I already pack up my people pleasing insecurities and guilt like sweaters in June, then stuff the box to the back of my

Goodbyes Suck

"Why can't we get all the people together in the world that we really like and then just stay together? I guess that wouldn't work. Someone would leave. Someone always leaves. T hen we would have to say good-bye. I hate goodbyes. I know what I need. I need more hellos." Snoopy Elton John sings that "sorry seems to be the hardest word." But I think he's wrong. I think the hardest word to say is "goodbye." This morning, after a week that seemed like it had less than the optimal 7 days, I took my big sister to the airport so she could fly back to Washington. I don't know how many miles it is between Washington and Florida but I know the distance between sisters is way too big. Oh sure, we have cell phones and Internet access, but tell me, is there anything better than sitting knee to knee, sharing iced teas and life stories? As we stood on the sidewalk, shivering in the record-breaking autumnal morning chill, we hugged - the kind of hug that s

Getting harder

"Resolve to be tender with the young, compassionate with the aged, sympathetic with the striving, and tolerant with the weak and the wrong. Sometime in your life you will have been all of these." Dr. Robert H. Goddard (American rocket engineer 1882-1945) Saturday was a pajama day for me. I placed my butt on the couch, turned on the TV and only moved when someone called from another room ... M A R R R YYYYYY! I had a ringside seat of a reality series that was being shown in its entirety on the WE channel. The show was called the Baby Borrowers. It was an experiment of sorts - if you can call parents giving up their children to teenagers who don't have a clue about child rearing for three days an experiment; it looked more like torture for both the real parents and the wanna be parents. Here's the premise. A group of teenage couples from all over the country, are in "love" and want to have a baby (I never heard marriage or commitment mentioned - just the baby

Later that night ....

Post Surgery 12:30 AM Dad: Mary, I'm all wet. Mary: Hmmmm. Dad: Call the doctor. Mary: It's after midnight. He's asleep. Dad: Let's go to the Emergency Room. Mary (out loud):Hmmmmmmm Mary (in her head): Oh, my God, I can't face the emergency room tonight. Dad: I'm wet. It burns. Mary (in her head, sounding like Prissy from Gone with the wind): I don't know nothing about leaking penises. Mary: Hi Dr. Mona, sorry to bother you at this hour. Doctor: No problem. What's going on? Mary: Dad's leaking. Dad's in pain. Doctor: Oh, he's just having bladder spasms. Mary (in her head): JUST??? Doctor: Is he bleeding? Is he feverish? ..... Crackle. Crackle. Pop. Silence. Mary: F#!&*K !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! JACK !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Jack: Yes dear. Mary: The GD phone isn't working. What do I do now? Jack:Huh?????? The phone rings again. Doctor: As I was saying. Why don't you just remove the catheter? Mary: I don't know nothing about removing no c

Been there ... done that!

In the days since I last posted anything, I can honestly say I've thought about writing. I've had some ideas, but never made the effort to put fingers to keyboard. However, I have been knitting and have a bag full of almost 50 teeny tiny baby hats to send to Save the Children. Today was one of those days spent sitting in hard, uncomfortable chairs in a hospital waiting room. Gratefully, it wasn't as long a day as it could have been. Any day, though, that starts before 7:30am is going to be a long one for me. Dad had a tumor removed from his bladder. An aggressive cancer that will probably return. But at his age and with the condition of his heart, these cystoscopic surgeries are really the only treatment option. I know Dad is the one who should be getting the sympathy, not me. However, in my normal it's-all-about-ME mentality I've got to say even though I signed on for this job, I just never figured I be on such intimate terms with my father's pecker. He's h