What Becomes of Life Now?

 

 

 

As it seems that I have done for the last few months, I'm replaying history - like the movie plot that gets us all confused and bewildered, wondering if this scene is in the present tense, or rather a piece of memory? Each time I've written since January (aside from the gardening posts),  I am sending readers back into time. I recently posted a very sad, still fresh, harsh reality - my mother no longer exists.

poem read at her Celebration of Life

What now? Is there a certain way to live ... sans mother... a tried and true method that will help me to plod through all of this? I was given a gift of 55 years loved by a woman that was but a child herself when I was born. She loved me with every piece of her soul - she was more than happy to express her unbridled affection for me - her only daughter. Her lovingly exclaimed ~ "MY GIRL"
a frequent nickname for me.

Surprised at myself, quite honestly, that there is not horrible, wrecked, visible emotion at every turn. I have always been quick to cry, palpably emotional, touched and teary by even the merest of incidents. Yet, it feels to me that I am .... holding onto something? holding back? holding on for dear life? waiting for the other shoe to drop? For the life of me I cannot figure it out.

There is still the other 50% that makes me whole, to think about - my Dad. That man, so strong - and sturdy too, at most times. He had a break in his solidness just after my Mom's passing. He really got sick and it was quite difficult to watch. We hardly knew what to do for him. Off we were to emergency rooms (again, uugghhh) and doctors. He came through and has delighted each of us - his children - with his complete willingness to accept all of the "newness" of this lousy situation.

Many weeks at the beginning months of this year were spent with me traveling back and forth to his home in the pines, and living out a week here, a week there. My brothers playing back-up on weekends doing their faithful & loving duties.

Thus is my slice of abundance for the time being. So much of the time with my Dad a pleasure. Time that frankly was not often spent previously; alone with just him. As Mom and I would scoot off to browse antique shops and lunch, and be girls together - taking up most of the precious moments we spent, just we two.  Not that he much minded... we still had loads of family time with the whole crew!

Lo and behold, amidst the sadness and traveling there was fun and beauty also. I took brief moments here and there to truck off with my camera, possibly with Dad's dog, sometimes with heaviness in my heart, and other times with joy at the simplest of things. I took many a backroad and country lane, once in snow and oft alone. There were jaunts with Dad to places that mattered to us - a part of our family's past - to the town where he was born, a place I left my heart many, many years ago. We had visits with his only living sister and lunch at a funky diner with his great-niece!

There is still abundant joy to be had - in spite of the life we now have....
The abundance not always in the form I would love....

January 11th

It's come to down to this... the telling of what January will forever represent to me.  Possibly there will come a time that the start of a new year will mean what it does for most folks. It may hold promise and, like I said in this post {click here}...just imagine the possibilities a new year can present. Wonder how long it will take for me to imagine good possibilities?

We were with my brother & wife to finally get me up to speed with technology.  A smart phone was coming home with me on that day. Lessons needed to be given on oh so many applications and uses. So, off we went to brother's home for some lunch and tutoring. We thought ahead and invited our niece to lunch for her 30th birthday party planning. And, sometime in the early evening we left our small gathering of family - quite sated in food, learning, and the smugness of getting event details in writing.


January elevenths evening hours were cool.  There was quiet at home, as I sat on the couch bundled in my white chunky weave blanket, inspecting the new contraption; adding contacts and apps. While I'm writing this it feels as though there should be a drum roll, or an eerily piercing movie soundtrack playing.... well, because this is dramatic.  I tend toward the big punctuation!!!, the LARGE telling of a story with big emphasis toward the punch line. This particular story needs emphasis on the ending. I need to tell it, in all it's BIGNESS, because in my heart this day was as dramatic as they come. So then... here is where a song plays and I begin to cry...

My Dad is calling me - a sure sign that there is an emergency - he's not the one to phone, my Mom is the communicator. Words fly back and forth. I'm not certain that he is correct in his observations.. my brain won't let me believe that the sentence he's forcing upon me is certain. The one thought that I cling to is that my Mom is getting help, that those talented EMT's will get her to safety. "NO, Dad, it's okay, she'll be okay. I'm leaving right now. I'll be there as soon as I can."

By nightfall we're on our way through the dark to their place in the pines. That new technology a lifesaver in our car as we travel hours down freeways. Hubby texting, returning calls, speaking for me, reaching family who need to be told. My focus on the white lines, my hands heavily clutching the wheel - I yell intermittently in response to questions being thrown my way, as I am unable to hear all that is being said... and well, because I'm mad!


Anyone that has experienced hospital scenes with a loved one in an emergent situation knows precisely where I will take you next. Except, I won't take you there... far too personal!

We were all there, crammed in the tiny curtained room; she was no longer with us. All hopes dashed. In the early morning hours of January 12th the woman that gave me life, left her earthly one behind.

It feels as if I've only placed facts and time lines in this post. My emotions are strained... I haven't quite felt myself, and I'm running on energy from who-knows-where.  Possibly the energy will get me to the next phase of journaling about this life changing event....

Using the Word Thankful.. STILL....

Turkey leftovers and forgotten mash no longer sit upon the shelves of the fridge. Thanksgiving has come and gone. Christmas seems to be "hot topic" now! Maybe I'm slow on the take... but, I'm still pausing to reflect and give thanks for all that I've been gifted with.

Non-traditional observances aside - Hubby & I enjoyed a beautifully warm, seaside to mountain top week of Thanksgiving observance. What began as a "time to unwind" post-Goat Hill getaway to the ocean, ended up being the start to our holiday.

Just past the hills, and sitting in the low-lying farming area of the California central coast is a cluster of tiny towns that are quite the slow paced, verdant, oceanic paradises of my dreams. We visit Half Moon Bay when our bodies say "rest".  Hubby & I frequent this place, and my parents traveled over these hills to bring their four children to sandy playgrounds when I was young. Their fist home was nearly purchased here.

 

Hunkered down in the San Benito House, an inn that hasn't seen much updating in years, we plopped ourselves on wooden benches and watched the world go 'round us. Taxidermy heads-'n-horns line the walls of the pool hall. A happenin' pub serves up a mean Bloody Mary. My brother joined in for an ale at the outdoor fire pit, and a lobster roll down the Highway.

 

Ocean smooth as glass ... the oddest of sights! I don't know that I've ever witnessed nearly nonexistent wave action at this portion of the coast. We took in some local fare.. as in - artichoke soup from Duarte's (I've posted on this before), and we backroad-ed to see country stores, shops and... here's another strange curiosity - fence posts trimmed in dried fish heads!!  what?? yep....

Two days of beachy bliss! Thankful for every minute of it...

 

Travel with me to the next Thanksgiving stop....

I hope to continue regular posts.. at a much more regular pace! Until next time...

Taking In-Land'ers To The Shore

Our upstate New York family has paid us a summer visit. Their usual down-time on our West Coast generally happens in the wintry months. But, when the vacation coincides with June, July or August - let the Summer SHENANIGANS begin!!

We're packed into a few vehicles, loaded to the brim with myriad beach essentials. The lush, cool of the Redwood forest is awaiting us. Our mini home for 3 nights is a mountain cottage of 80 years {or so}. The sweetest spot, dear to our hearts. An enclave at the end of a dirt path, with a creek running below it.

This first night the youngsters get to come and trawl the grounds of Santa Cruz Boardwalk. Well, I'll for sure be joining them too. It's a must to ride the Giant Dipper Roller Coaster!!

Hubby's favorite "ride" - if you want to call it one - is this aerial tram ^  BOOHHRRR-ing!! hhaa

The youngest cousin keeps asking about palm trees. "I thought there'd be more".. so we'll have to indulge his need

Some may ride the railroad around the forest. I will go one day to a family function, back inland for a bit. Two of my brother and SIL's adult children are graduating college. Proud moment for us all.

Mostly we will sit upon our relaxed beach chairs, light up a BBQ, read and breath fresh air. Yes, inhale the clean, cool forest dampness and be glad that we're together. Overjoyed that we have TIME to spend. There've been some blips in our road-of-life, again. Happens, I guess...
More than ever, the need to be joyful and able to enjoy these places of beauty is a gift!

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Picture-a-day yesterday was TEXTURE....

Guess what I was doing to obtain that texture photo??  ^ shhhh - be quiet about it.... trespassing, again
I found this door, and layers of pain, rust and dirt so interesting...
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Today is Friday the 13th.... {no spookiness, please}. Picture-a-day is OPEN :

This picture for OPEN ^ was very nostalgic for me to get. I happened to be in the town where just a short part of my childhood was spent. This is the room where I went to Kindergarten. The school - to my surprise - is still OPEN!

Lordy, Lordy...

Twenty seven years old. That's my guy's age. We were told the day we picked him up that he was one year old.  Not a moments peace since then ~ said with a big grin and even bigger soft spot in my heart ~

This is him ^, Lord Greystoke. Royally he's named, and royally he acts! Our parrot is an African Gray Timneh. The small version of the famous Alex ~

Hubby brought Greystoke home as an early Christmas gift to me. This was one of those buy-honey-a-gift-that-you-really-want type presents! At least I don't remember asking for an illegal, from the wilds of Africa, untamed, flying, pet-for-fifty years gift! This surprise also happened to be one of those unforeseen, happy you found it, so glad it's mine events!

Greystoke has graced our home with his personality for 26 years. I'm moved to tears to think of the laughter and pleasures he's brought us. Tears can also flow when I think of his couple of years health struggle. We nearly lost him at one point.  In the picture of him above, that unattractive white cone on his neck is only in place so he doesn't pull his feathers out. It doesn't seem to faze the Lord, one bit!  He just recently had a procedure that we're hoping will end his days of being a cone-head!

You'd laugh at the stories I could tell about why Stoke may have had said illness. Long story - LONG, he got the notion that I was his chick. I mean literally. He chose me as his mate. Twas not good for his hormonal balance! Poor fella! Thus there was stress, and no mate, and no chickadees in a nest, so he chose to pluck! But, we're all done with that now. We're hoping anyway. I may choose to fly the coop if not! ( yes, pun intended!)

Stokie wakes us in the morning. He may ring his bell, he may yell one or both of our names, he may whistle a tune, or say FEED ME to get our attention. His vocabulary is strong, but his training (us humans) was weak - otherwise he might have rivaled Alex. He's a messy little sort, and tosses anything he'd like to dismiss from his premises straight to the floor.  Hello is spoken into the phone if we place it near. He tells us, or my in-laws dog to "BE QUIET!"

One of the sweetest parts of my day is when Stoke is sitting on my shoulder and says I LOVE YOU!
I guess we trained him right after all!

"Kiss, kiss", Stokie.... and "Night, night" too !

Intended Wishes

Quietly - while my natural inclination is to emote - I shall softly say, a very Happy Birthday, my friend. In the life we led together not so very long ago, you and I, we would have been singing at the top of our lungs. Our feet would've been high heeled and dancing. Bubbly sips, or two, or three woulda been upon our painted lips. That life was boisterous, undaunted and based in joyous pleasures. I wish so very much that we were honoring your years in this same way tonight.

Intentions are good things. I intended to call you up and ever so gently remind you that you've got a friend that is thinking of you. I intended to give whispered wishes.  The phone went unanswered. I considered that it was possibly best this way. With all that you've endured, did you really want to hear from me?  Me, the person that would've clamored to celebrate to the nth degree...... Possibly you'd like just to forget that more time has passed. Really, who of us wouldn't at times? It's not that your DAY isn't a happy one. It's not that I don't want to hear your voice. Unsure of what today might mean to you; will it boldly step on your spirit?

In times of different circumstance, I would have come to visit.  In my vision we'd sit on the sofa and chat and laugh. This is what we can still share. Simple and true. Friendship. Without all of the bells and whistles. Love that comes from years of shared experiences. Nothing can take this from us!

So, I've tried not to make too much of your Birthday, so as not to wreak havoc on any demons. If I must, I will quietly, alone, whisper to you -

THE BEST IS YET TO COME!!!

Bambi Then & Now

Are your tennies laced up? Walking shorts on and sweatshirt tied around your waist?? I haven't taken you on a walk in the hills for awhile. I much appreciate this cool weather when I hike.  My timing was different from the norm; I went in the late evening rather than morning. I took my camera along knowing that I'd spot a deer or five along the way.

Off we go ~

Always - such beautiful surroundings! above ^ and below too >

There were groups aplenty of Mommas and fawns. Seeing them together always makes me think of Bambi. I'm drawn to that Disney film. My parents bought me the album from the movie when I was a young girl. It was played on my small portable turntable. I still have that album!

I spotted a couple of really big guys, but they don't wait around for a close up portrait!

I was out during sunset. Gold and pink filtered through oak tree limbs....

And a parting song from that memorable soundtrack.....

Good Night!

Sit Down And Put Your Feet Up

Most of this weekend was spent in my favorite nook near the fireplace. All that I could possibly need was near at hand. I browsed blogs. I caught up on the Merc (our local paper). I wept at old movies. Nearly forgot to go out for my daily walk.... and those walks were lacking in actual calorie burning oomph!!

As in this picture alot of the time I multitasked. Does that burn more calories??! The old black&white playing in the background is Miracle on 34th Street. Makes me cry every time! I had to replay Rudolph and Grinch also - they just suited the day! Between the oldies and my walks in a neighborhood that displays a tree in every yard  (by the way those trees are lit with the vintage LARGE size, multicolored strands) - I was feeling very nostalgic.  As in :


big ol' brights


                        

multicolored strands of old....



I remember


Red, green and blue bulbs =
   ~ memories
   ~ childhood Christmases
   ~ Fernwood Circle
   ~ my parents
   ~ my brothers
   ~ tinsel
   ~ Mr. Cartwright Santa
   ~ filled stockings
   ~ squinting at the tree over by the front door



Love my memories, and adored my childhood.  Not nearly enough can be said for the family I am a part of, nor for the neighborhood in which I was raised. Truly blessed is one way to put it....