Tag: empty nest

Wingmen

I don’t exaggerate. I just remember big. 

~ Chi Chi Rodriguez

I love this quote. My editor (aka my husband) will read one of my blog posts about something that we both experienced, and he’ll say, “Wow, I didn’t see the story in that, but you did.” And sometimes he’ll try to correct little details to my stories because his memory is different than mine. (And then I’ll get mad, and I’ll insist that my storyteller persona deserves a little creative license) I digress. My overall point is, I do believe that most of us writers, remember a lot of seemingly inconsequential happenings, and we do “remember big.”

The other day, my friend sent to our group chat, a picture of her poor sick baby, all nestled, under warm blankets on the couch. Her baby is now home from college, and immediately came down with some nasty virus going around. Nestled right next to her baby, was my friend’s family’s fur baby, an adorable Yorkie named Skipper, who has been the longtime, perfect family dog, for a family who consists of three beautiful, vivacious daughters. When I texted how cute it was to see Skipper, being right there, comforting one of the beautiful daughters, my friend said that Skipper has always been the family comforter. She then texted a picture of Skipper nestled up, right next to my friend’s father-in-law who had been in hospice care in their home, a few years ago, before he died. “They’re always our wingmen,” I replied. And everyone on the chat agreed. We all love our dogs.

When we visited our son, who attends medical school in a different city, over this past weekend, I noticed a trio of pictures, placed above his computer in his apartment – a place where I imagine that our son spends a great deal of time. The left side picture was one of he and his two brothers, confident and arm-in-arm, on one of our family trips to the great outdoors, the right side picture was of he and his longtime girlfriend, laughing together on the beach, but the middle picture was a giant blow-up of our Labrador retriever’s face. Ralphie, our lab, does have a beautiful, soulful, expressive face. I believe that the picture reminds our son that he has a big, yellow, loyal, goofy, but brilliant wingman, who loves him immensely and unconditionally, and this wingman doesn’t even understand nor give a hoot about medical school. My son’s soulful wingman only cares to be there (even if only in picture form) to be a devoted, supportive form of comfort. How beautiful it is that our furry wingmen feel their own highest form of love and comfort, by just being it.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Argle-Bargle (AKA Tuesday’s Tidbits)

+ My Word-of-the-Day daily email taught me “argle-bargle”, today. This is what the meaning is of argle-bargle: “Copious but meaningless talk or writing; nonsense.” It’s a great word. I’ve honestly never seen the word, “argle-bargle”, nor heard the word, “argle-bargle” other than today (honestly, sometimes the Word-of-the-Day tends to get a little “out there” and obscure when it comes to their word choices, in my opinion, but I’m hooked. I read the words daily and I even sometimes try to incorporate some of these words into my own argle-bargle, as I am doing so today.) Admit it. Argle-bargle is a fun word. Try saying it three times fast: Argle-bargle. Argle-bargle. Argle-bargle.

+ The best quote I have read this week (and you know that I love me some great quotes) is this one: “The future has an ancient heart.” – Carlo Levi (Incidentally one of my most kind and loyal, longtime readers, Gail, recommended a book in my Comments recently, and I immediately downloaded it. It is an excellent book and this is where I read the quote. The book is called Tiny Beautiful Things by Cheryl Strayed, who also wrote Wild, which was made into a movie starring Reese Witherspoon) Anyway, “The future has an ancient heart” speaks to me. It is so true and so comforting. It suggests that whatever we are meant to do, and to learn, and to become, is already imprinted in our most primal, wisest DNA. It will find its way out, through many channels, in our lifetimes, individually and collectively. If you ever need to just “let go”, use this quote as your mantra. It’s now going to become one of my own regular mantras. Thank you, Gail, for your most excellent recommendation. This line from the book, alone, is life-changing.

+ I had an experience over the weekend that I’m sure could have probably made a viral Tik-Tok (although I’m honestly not a Tik-Tok fan, so I don’t really know. I’ve always preferred words over video.) We were visiting our son in a major city in our country, and while he was doing his schoolwork, my husband and I visited a swanky section of town for some lunch and some shopping. I found a delightful boutique full of unusual artsy stuff (my favorite kind of shopping) and I decided to purchase a bracelet in the shop. My husband was doing his own thing outside (small artsy boutiques are not his favorite kind of shopping. I’m not sure that my husband actually has a favorite kind of shopping.) The cashier was perhaps a few years older than me (probably in her late 50s) and she mentioned that this boutique was not actually her store, but it was her daughter’s store, and she was just trying to help her daughter out for the afternoon. What ensued next became two technologically challenged middle-aged women trying to figure out how to pay for my item, with the daughter on a Facetime call, trying to guide us through the whole process (“I think that we press this button” . . . “No! No! No! Don’t press that button!” . . . .”The green one!! Green!!”) and then for the cherry on top, add-in the shop-owner’s father, also a technologically challenged middle-ager, who did not have his readers on, and thus promptly pressed a “7” instead of a “1” which almost made me pay seven times what I was supposed to pay, if we hadn’t been saved by hearing his daughter screaming through the phone: “Abort! Cancel the transaction! RED button! RED!!” In the end we got “the system” to work correctly, and I paid the fair price for my lovely bracelet. And the whole time I was thinking, if my kids had been in the shop and had gotten this on video, I might be Tik-Tok famous right now.

+Congratulations, you made it to the end of today’s argle-bargle.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Monday – Funday

I’ve come to learn that being a mother means that you will regularly have a constant stream of difficult goodbyes, starting when your baby first leaves your womb. And from that excruciating, and yet exhilarating moment, the goodbyes just keep flowing, on and on and on. You say a goodbye, filled with light-sleeping trepidation, when your baby sleeps in the nursery for the first time. You kiss your baby a million times over, and you leave a list of reminders, dozens of pages long, when you leave your baby with a babysitter for the first time. You pry your baby off of your leg the first time you leave your baby at preschool, and then you pry your own fingers off of the door handle of the classroom, and you force yourself to go home. You bravely wave goodbye when your baby steps on to the bus to go to school for the first time. (Usually with sunglasses on, to hide your tears) You go through first dates, graduations, and you help your babies unpack for college, and new apartments, and new adventures, and then when you tell yourself that hopefully you have done everything in your power to help your babies be all set for this particular new adventure in their lives, you let go of your babies, and you say goodbye. Again and again and again. It’s a constant cycle of goodbyes, and the goodbyes never seem to get any easier. It could be that the goodbyes are so hard, because we mothers always carry the background fear that this particular goodbye could be the last goodbye to your baby, and that is about the worst thing any of us mothers can possibly fathom. And yet I know women who have gone through the final goodbyes with their babies, and they are here. And they are still filled with hope, and with life, and with brave, openhearted love to give. I think that there is nothing stronger in this world than a mother’s heart because it has to practice the wrenching process of saying goodbye, again, and again, and again, and yet it constantly replenishes itself with love to share, hope to shine, and strength for the future. A mom constantly extends her heart with a firm hug, a pat on the back, and a “you’ve got this, baby” confident goodbye. And then she turns around, she wipes her tears, and she excitedly anticipates the next “hello.”

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Soul Sunday

Good morning. This weekend has been me, a little frazzled, trying to keep up with the energy-filled, used to late nights, pulsating, youthful city Jones. I’m happily satiated and depleted all at once. As my regular readers know, Sundays are dedicated to poetry on the blog. Here is the poem I wrote for today (What poem are you going to write today?)

The Grandmothers

Last night we laughed and we both beamed with pride,

Watching and gazing at our beautiful children,

Both of us mothers of two determined, compassionate companions.

I looked at you with new eyes last night,

Secretly supposing that one day,

It is quite possible that both of us will gaze at a precious, beloved child,

Who will lovingly look back at us, and know us both as adoring grandmothers.

And that’s when I felt a connection to you like I never had before.

How beautiful the web of love is, which quietly holds us all together.

Quietly spinning in the background, the future stories of entwined lives.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

A Little Magic

We are in yet another city this weekend, visiting our son who is a second year medical student. Our son is more stressed than usual which says a lot when you are in medical school (Medical school is obviously intense and stressful to begin with – the whole family has started to ask for just “the gist” of his experiences, especially when he starts talking about amputations and other emergency room scenarios.) The reason our son is particularly stressed is that he is having to decide on what specialties he wants to hone in on, and so he is going through angsty rounds of “What ifs?”, “Where can I best be utilized?”, “Is work life/balance important?” What if I hate my choice?” . . . . You know the questions. We have all gone through similar handwringing choices throughout our lives.

As a mother, this is when I would love to open my purse and pull out the ever-ready, sparkly, golden magic wand (the proverbial magic wand which we all wish that we had access to). I would show it to my son, with a proud and knowing and able look on my face, and I would bonk it on his head three times, and then I would wiggle my nose and then we would all see a little pink cloud appear with, ta-da, “The One and Only Infallible Perfect Answer!” My son would beam with relief and ease and thank me once again for being such a wonderful, reassuring mother. (and then this is when he would probably ask me which of our four kids would get the magic wand in the will.)

Okay, enough of my stupid fantasy. Of course I don’t have a magic wand and I don’t even have the right un-magic answers to guide my son. We talked about intuition, and prayer, and what just “feels right.” We talked about values, and overall well-being. We talked about practicalities and time. My husband and I talked in circles with our son, trying to ease his stress. At one point, my son mentioned something about reading that you should live your life by thinking about what would be written on your tombstone and what would be said in your eulogy. And that’s when I had, at least to me, a little flicker of a magic wand moment.

Backstory: When we flew down here, my husband insisted that I continue to get out of the dark ages, and he asked me to download yet another airline’s app on to my phone. And so I begrudgingly did it. And in creating my profile I had to answer 542 security questions. (it felt like 542) One question that stood out to me, and was the most easy for me to remember the answer, was the question, “Who was your favorite elementary school teacher?” My favorite elementary school teacher was Mrs. Simmerman, in third grade. She was a tall, elegant Southern woman (in Pittsburgh, PA no less!) and she cared. She oozed care. She wasn’t just teaching little kids facts, she was teaching us to love each other, and to love life. She seemed noble to me. I adored her.

So, as my husband, and our son and I sat at dinner last night, ruminating on his upcoming choices, and my son talk about considering his epitaph in regards to the decision, the whole Mrs. Simmerman security question popped back into my mind. I exclaimed, “G, when you make your decision, remember that when it comes to your life’s end, it doesn’t nearly as much matter WHAT you do, or WHAT YOU ACHIEVED in any field, as it is, HOW you lived you life, HOW you made others feel in your life, and IF YOU MADE A POSITIVE difference doing whatever it is that you end up doing.”

And then much to his chagrin (this reserved young man has never had a mother who embarrasses easily), I asked the two young men who were waiting on us, if they could name right now, in that very instant, their favorite coach or teacher from elementary school. It turns out that the young men were originally from Cuba and they did not speak English well, but when they finally grasped what I was asking them (I gather this is not a regular question which they get from their customers), they both had beautiful, shining expressions on their faces. Their eyes shown. They had instant answers. One young man said, “Mr. Sandoval. He was like a father.” These young men beamed. I beamed. And in some small way, I think that I had a wee little magic wand moment. At least, it felt a little magic to me. And I feel quite confident, that whatever my son decides, he will do just fine.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Wear the Pants Friday

Good morning!! Big Friday hugs to everyone! On Fridays, I get out of my head and into my stuff. On Favorite Things Friday, I just talk about the stuff in life that makes my life fun to live. Please check past Friday posts for more good stuff to get, to eat, to buy, to smell, to try, to wear . . . . and please list your favorites in my Comments section.

My daughter had to buy a few pairs of black slacks for her ice cream serving job this summer, and she immediately said that she knew exactly what pants to get. She said that her friend who is a hostess at a nice restaurant, told my daughter about these black slacks, and these are now my daughter’s go-to black slacks for any dress casual business event at school, etc. After seeing how flatteringly these slacks fit on my daughter, I asked her if she minded if I also bought a couple of pairs for myself and when she said, “Sure!”, I promptly ordered two pairs. These pants are nicely cut, inexpensive, yet good quality, durable, and they have a little bit of stretch to them. Old Navy High-Waisted Pixie Flare Pants for Women are my favorites for today. They come in other colors besides black. My daughter and I both purchased a size up from what we each normally wear, as these pants seem to run a little small. These pants are a great staple for any woman’s closet!

Okay, put your big girl pants on today and let yourself have a weekend to never forget!! See you tomorrow!

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

For the Love of Clutter

The artist Titsay put this artwork up on Twitter and calls it “A Collection of Things That Bring Joy.” I love this picture. I so relate to it. If you would see my desk or my closet, you would say, “Oy!” and yet I call it “joy.” Every little knick knack which I own holds some kind of meaning to me. That being said, I am fully aware that I need to reduce my clutter. It has been on my to-do list, to do so, since January. I keep looking for that wide, clear space on my calendar, in order to start my decluttering process, that wide space that just doesn’t ever seem to appear. Note to self:

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Bloodstones

The other day, I said to my daughter, “Oh, it smells like rain.” And she agreed with me, but I doubt either one of us could accurately describe what rain smells like. In Australia, in 1964, scientists coined the name “petrichor” for the refreshing, cleansing smell of rain, after a particularly dry season. Petrichor comes from two Greek words meaning “blood of the gods” and “stone.”

Last night, my husband and I were watching a show about nature and it showed that elephants have such a powerful sense of smell that they can find water from deep within the dry, sandy earth. Other animals rely on elephants to dig and to find this water, so that they can drink from it, after the elephants finish. It turns out that, among many other wonderful things, elephants are enormous ecological divining rods.

Supposedly our human sense for smelling rain is better than a shark’s ability to sniff blood in the water. I think that is why I like shows about nature or observing nature around me. It’s such a keen reminder that we are so much more than our minds, and the stories that we tell ourselves. We are just complicated animals who have lost the awe for what our senses can tell us, and do for us. We need to remind ourselves of our own amazing ability to sniff out petrichor when we are wandering through dry spells in our lives. We need to take some time every day to just be in our senses, and to use our senses to lead us to cleansing refreshment and renewal when we think that our wells have run dry. We need to learn to trust our whole selves, and not just our minds alone, as without checks and balances, our minds tend to be a little tricky and deceiving.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Best Feelings

Two of my favorite feelings in the world are rarely discussed. Happiness, love, joy, glee, pride, excitement, peace, gratitude are all well-known “up” feelings on the feelings wheel/scale, but two of my all-time favorite feelings that I literally bathe in/saturate in/soak fully in and appreciate immensely, beyonds words are: 1) Having my curiosity satisfied (even if something/someone/some happening ends up being terrible, at least I know . . . Wondering is the worst state of limbo and being in limbo is one of my least favorite feelings in the world) and 2) Relief. I had to put a period after the word “Relief” because the feeling of relief is that solidly good. Both of these emotions are “results of results.” Both of these emotions eliminate uncertainty.

Since last summer our family and our extended family has been in what feels like a constant state of having to anticipate, and having to plan for both unusually good and unusually bad life-changing events. There have been graduations, new schools, major illnesses, funerals, dealing with estates, major trips, planning moves to new places, new job offers, etc. etc. etc. There have been so many new decisions to make. Now, I grasp that this is often just the way of life, but sometimes life gets a little clumpy, and since last summer, we’ve been rolling through a big ol’ clump of change that for now, at least, seems to have levelled out a little bit. We can breathe. The storm has passed. The direction ahead seems a little more clear in the windshield. (Now this is the point where I take a pause from writing, and I knock on my wooden desk until my knuckles turn bloody.)

Anyway, for today, I am luxuriating in the feeling of relief, and the gratitude for feeling this sense of relief. The weight feels lifted off of my shoulders. I can feel the grateful pause in my mind, and in my body, and and in my soul. I no longer have a million “What ifs?/How’s this going to go?/What’s next?” swirling around in my mind. I could have lived without the clustered clump of the major highs and the major lows which my family and I just experienced in less than a year, but perhaps the wonderful, cleansing, breathe out moment of relief that I am feeling right now, makes it all worth it.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Monday – Funday

Credit: @thewitchbrmclst, Twitter

There is a funny thread trending on Twitter this morning. It starts with “#InThe80sNoOneSaid” and here are some chuckle-worthy, relatable answers:

“In the ’80s you never called someone on the phone and then asked “where are you”

“I’m going to sleep in on Saturdays and watch my cartoons on streaming later. You woke up for those Saturday morning cartoons or you didn’t see them!”

“Is this too much hairspray?”

“Put on a helmet.”

“How safe are those jarts/lawn darts for kids really?“

“Damn, left my phone on the roof…“

“I’ll have a Venti Iced Pumpkin Spice Latte, please.”

“what’s the WiFi password?”

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.