Month: April 2019

Learning to Let Go

My eldest son got a big promotion at his job and moved just outside of the Big Apple a couple of weeks ago. As much as my heart strings have had to stretch, I am very excited and proud for him to partake in this adventure of a lifetime! Of course, the protective mom part of me is always concerned for his well-being.

We have family that live in that part of the country, but they are still wintering down south and while our son has acquaintances who live up north, I am not aware of anyone he is particularly close to, being in close proximity to his new digs. His work associates are still new to him and they are busy with their own lives and families. My son moved into an apartment without any roommates for the first time in his life. He comes from a big family. Oh my goodness, he must be so lonely! He might be feeling existential grief! (In this paragraph, I’ve just let you peek into where my mind has been swirling the last couple of weeks, in regards to my eldest son.)

So, of course, we have been texting my son regularly and keeping up with his life’s happenings. Turns out he spent his birthday (Friday evening) in Manhattan with some work associates and by the looks of the pictures, he had a blast. He made it safely back to suburbia and texted us beautiful, scenic pictures of a hike he took on a trail not far from his home yesterday.

“Did you hike there all by yourself?” was my tentative text.

“No, I did it with a local hiking group. It was great!” he replied.

Many years ago, when we did our first major move for my husband’s job, we were busy unpacking our things. Our eldest son, a budding first grader announced loudly, “Okay, it’s time to get out and meet some people!”

When he was in college, my son spent a summer semester in a study abroad program, travelling all over Europe. He told us that the Australian kids were particularly fun and wild, staying out to all hours of the night.

“I wonder how he knows that, ” my friend said snidely with a coy look on her pursed lips.

My eldest son has always been a confident, adventurous soul who lives life on his own terms. He has always beat his own drum, and his life’s rhythm has always been an upbeat, interesting, unique, spirited sound. Perhaps I should let my own heart beat along with his drum, instead of the slow, fearful, hesitant, projection of a protective, grasping heartbeat belonging to a loving mother who is having to learn to let go . . . .

Find Your Stoke

The other day I was a little bit restless, perhaps a bit bored. I was flitting around from one thing to another, not really accomplishing anything. I was aggravated so I started poking into my family’s business, being annoying and relentless in the spreading of my agitation around like butter.

My youngest son (a senior in high school) said, “Mom, you need to find your stoke.”

“What the hell does that mean?” was my flash, edgy answer.

“Like Ralphie loves to swim.” ( Ralphie is our labrador retriever who thinks our pool is a daily dose of heaven provided for him, at the scratch of a door.) “You need to find what excites you today,” he said bluntly and correctly.

I think that is the funniest thing about kids growing up – the role reversal. How many times did I have to remind my kids to “find your stoke” by showing them their favorite toys or telling them to call their friends or even assigning chores for them to do?

Why is it so easy on some days to get lost in “your stoke” and other days to completely forget what excites you in the first place? Some days are so purpose-full and other days, your insides are screaming, “What’s my purpose?” I like it that I have raised centered kids who sometimes have to remind me to get balanced and centered, too. We all need that reminder from time to time.

“If you can’t figure out your purpose, figure out your passion. For your passion will lead you right into your purpose.” – Bishop T.D. Jakes

“Don’t ask yourself what the world needs, ask yourself what makes you come alive. And then go do that. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.” – Harold Whitman

Bread Pudding and Curly Fries

My daughter asked us to explain what “bread pudding” was the other day. In explaining it to her (I don’t serve it typically, because frankly, I don’t like it), I started to think about the origins of food and how there are certain dishes that have been around forever, but in reality, some cook, somewhere, had to make to the first version of it.

When I looked up the origin of bread pudding, it turns out that it started in the 11th or 12th century, as a frugal cook’s way to not let stale bread go to waste. It was called “poor man’s pudding” in England for centuries. I grew up in Pittsburgh, where pierogies were a popular dish. The “poor man’s pudding” reminded me of a friend who used to slap mashed potatoes in-between lasagna noodles and exclaim, “There! “Poor Man’s Pierogies!”

When I was in high school, my friend’s parents owned a restaurant and sometimes they would let us take their tickets for the local “food show.” I never turned those tickets down! It was at one of those food conventions that I experienced “curly fries” for the first time. After eating my sample, I knew that they would be a hit with me and with everyone else, for the rest of my years!

Food is such a vital part of a community’s identity. When you go to certain parts of the country you just have to eat their local specialty, i.e. Philly Cheesesteaks, Chicago Deep-dish Pizza, Texas and Carolina BBQ, San Francisco sour dough bread, etc. And then when you go back home from a fun trip, full of food breaks, you desperately try to find a local restaurant who can best duplicate the original specialty cuisine. What’s your favorite Greek restaurant, Italian restaurant, Mexican restaurant, and/or Chinese restaurant? I bet we can all answer that question.

I guess I must be hungry right now to be pondering food so much. We have been celebrating birthdays and life with a lot of caloric gusto lately, so last night I told my husband I was just wanting to feast on some salad. So we split a nice, green-y salad and then we decided we might as well split a lobster BLT with some onion straws, for good measure. (We live in a part of the country that is known for good seafood.) Oh, well, baby steps . . . . into the kitchen . . .

In the Water Closet Friday

Happy Birthday to my first baby! Its my eldest son’s birthday today. He was born on a Friday – Good Friday, in fact. My son was born on Good Friday of ’96 and my husband was born on Good Friday of ’69. I always like that cool little twist. The gift of my son, certainly adds to why I LOVE Fridays. This is one of our family’s “birthday clumps”, in case you haven’t noticed. Every family has “birthday clumps”, where you actually start to get tired of birthday cake, if that is even possible.

It is also FAVORITE THINGS FRIDAY! New readers, I don’t get heavy and emotionally charged on Fridays. I typically list three things, resources, songs, etc. that I really like and I pass these on to you as a gift. Please gift me and the other readers back in the Comments section with some of your favorites and share the love. Sharing the love is so easy to do on Fridays. It just goes with the Friday vibe.

Today’s Friday Favorites are the best bathroom reads. Bathroom reads are those little resource books, or one-page quote books or books filled with pick-me up stories that are quick reads when you feel a little bored in the water closet and you already read the latest copy of People magazine in ten minutes. (on an aside, you know how they say you should read a fortune from a fortune cookie and add “in bed” to the end of the fortune? I’m going to add “in the water closet” to the end of my recommendations, for fun. Go with me, on this. It’s Friday.) Here are three of my favorite bathroom reads:

Women’s Bodies, Women’s Wisdom by Christine Northrup – This book is for when you start panicking about your health and you can’t get to Dr. Google, just yet. The book’s author is thorough, kind, empathetic and wise. I always feel so reassured and informed any time I look up any of my “concerns” regarding my body, when using this book as a resource. . . . in the water closet.

The Ultimate Dictionary of Dream Language by Briceida Ryan – One time my friend sent our group chat questions about a weird dream that she had the previous night. The dream was about a badger and she had no idea where that came from. (She’s an Aquarius.) Anyway, I was able to go to this dictionary and sure enough, it had an explanation for badger dreams. Whether it was the correct explanation or not, is beside the point. I was able to multi-task and to help a friend out. All the way around – relief. . . . in the water closet.

The Essential Wit of the World’s Funniest People edited by Daniel Bukszpan – This book is just full of hilarious short funny, quotes. Here are just two examples from the School Daze chapter:

“My school was so tough, the school newspaper had an obituary section.” -Norm Crosby

“You how to tell if the teacher is hung over? Movie Day.” – Jay Mohr

I think laughter is great medicine in whichever way you may need it. Often people in bathrooms, need some kind of healing. Laughter is key. . . . in the water closet.

I’ll finish with a funny from Chris Rock:

“There are only three things women need in life: food, water and compliments.”

Happy Friday, my dear friends!!! Have a great weekend!! Hope not too much time is spent . . . in the water closet!

Fly Away

Happy Birthday to the love of my life! My husband turns 50 today. Yesterday, I decided to make our rather torn up (due to renovations) house look a little more festive for his birthday, than its current “war zone” look. I went to the florist/balloon section of our local grocery store. There, they keep all of the mylar balloons in bags with pictures of what they look like. I picked a “5” and a “0” and I asked the florist to fill the balloons while I did the rest of my shopping. When I came back to get the balloons, imagine my surprise that these balloons are about 3 feet tall, each, when filled with helium!!

Now, I drive a small convertible. There was no way all of the groceries and the balloons were going to fit into my car with the top up. So, I had to put the top down. I had to weigh down the balloons with my purse and some heavy groceries and I had to drive home at the sludgy speed of a turtle. Drivers in my area of the country, are a bit aggressive and obtuse, so I literally had someone right behind me, tailing me, when they could have driven around me. I’m wondering if they did it to annoy me. It was the most stressful 10 minute drive home, I’ve ever had!

Still, the balloons made it home without flying away and they definitely add to the festivity. The things we do for love. I’m glad that I didn’t get pulled over, although a police escort might have eased the tension of the drive. It’s times like this that you wish you could have an out-of-body experience and look at yourself, and the crazy things that you do in life. It would be very easy to be self-amused, in my case.

No Grandchildren

“God has no grandchildren.” – Proverb

I read the above proverb yesterday in one of my meditations. I love it. I find it comforting. Currently the oldest person alive is a man in Germany who is 113 years old. Probably, as I sit here writing, there is at least one baby being born somewhere. So the Universe’s earth family has children in the age range of just being born to 113 years old. It would make for a beautiful family portrait.

I have four children who I love deeply with all of my heart. My oldest has eight years more experience in this world than my youngest child, but I am their Mom. Nothing has changed about me. I am not a different “Mom.” They are my children and I love them infinitely.

That’s how it goes with God/Creation/All-Loving Presence. Some of His/Her children are clergy. Some of His/Her children are outlaws. Some of the children of Earth are still learning to walk, and some are using walkers. The same God loves us all, infinitely. You cannot divide infinite love to see who is loved more. It is not possible. We are all God’s children and we are all loved infinitely.

The Same God loves us all. Clergy do not get a different, wiser, stronger God than the desperate, homeless, addict roaming the streets. The connection is there to all of us. The love is freely given in pure grace. We are all God’s children and we are all loved infinitely.

Sacredness in Tears

I don’t have words today. Everything that I write seems trivial and wrong and ridiculous. You see, one of my good friends, a friend who has been so supportive of my writing and of my blog, is going through one of the worst pains imaginable for a parent. She lost her child. And nothing I say or write or do, can take that pain away. My heart is breaking for her. She is bearing her own pain, plus the pain of her husband and her other children. All that I can do for her, right now, is to pray for comfort and peace, for both she and her family. I ask you for your prayers for my friend and for her family as they travel that treacherous, long, rocky road called Grief. I love you, friend. I’m here for you.

“There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are the messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition and of unspeakable love. ” – Washington Irving

April Fool’s – No Horse Pucky

Rabbit. Rabbit. Rabbit. Happy April Fool’s Day! Here’s another no horse-pucky story for the archives (please check out my other “no horse-pucky stories from previous posts, for a giggle or two):

When I was a freshman in college, my suite-mates had all gone home for the weekend before April Fool’s Day, but I had not. I was bored that weekend. It must have been a relatively quiet weekend at school or perhaps I had studied too hard, but I got a wild hair to pull off a great April Fool’s prank. I typed up an official looking note and taped it up on the door to our suite. It said something like this:

We regret to inform you that our pest control officers have found this Hall to be infested with indigenous pellet worms. In order to treat the area, you will need to move all of your furniture to the center of your rooms, wash all of your bedding, throw away all open food containers and remove any wall hangings. We are very sorry for this inconvenience and we appreciate your compliance.

I wish this had been during the day and age of smart phones. The looks of pure horror and disgust on my suite-mates’ faces, were priceless and would have made for a wonderful You-Tube video. I was actually astonished with how fast they got to work moving their furniture (one of the girls donned rubber gloves). I started feeling kind of guilty and I was having a hard time stifling my giggles, so when the food started getting thrown out, I had to come clean. As I recall, there were definitely some paybacks, but the prank was worth it. Albeit cheesy, I felt like I had pulled off the heist of the century.

By the way, I made up the term “indigenous pellet worm.” It sounded really gross and scientific, but there really is no such thing. No horse- pucky.