LIFE IN THE NO CONTACT ZONE

As I write this the day before Mother's Day I cannot help but ponder the many things that have arisen for me personally out of this pandemic. And, while that is not what this blog was supposed to be about....

Well, here goes: "Life in the No Contact Zone" could easily be the new heading for the blog itself. Having set in play that I would have the goal to do two blog posts per week way back at the beginning of 2019, I have failed miserably at this in the past week or so. What is there to say, I have wondered far too often.

But for some reason, the coming of Mother's Day seems to have triggered something. This will be the first Mother's Day that I have spent without a mother and I find myself thinking of her and, ultimately, how glad I am in some ways that she is not here to be part of all this. At the end, she was on hospice and they took such wonderful care of her. I still marvel that her skin as I stroked her arm on that last day of her life felt like a baby's--smooth and soft and completely unblemished in any way. I'm sure there are still many in hospice and still receiving that wonderful care. These caring folks must be really struggling during this pandemic just as the doctors and nurses and other healthcare workers are. They, too, are to be honored.

If my mother were still alive, I would be grieving the loss of being able to see her. And, while I am grieving her loss, at least there is the knowledge that not only is she at peace, but I can be too, knowing that I am not failing her in any way.

Still, a solid two months into all this, I miss my sister, who is also a mother. I miss my daughter, who is also a mother. I miss my many friends who are mothers and wonder if they too are missing their loved ones. My own sense of loss is, though, as nothing to what so many are experiencing. My heart hurts for the losses suffered by so many others. The grief is immense. 

And yet, though I feel lost without being able to connect with others in the usual ways, I respect the No Contact Zone and frequently find myself angry with those who cannot seem to "get it." While a part of me would like to really go off on them here, I will strive to respect their right to a different way. I only wish they could respect mine. This No Contact Zone is not fun. But my mother, while we did not agree on many things, did teach me to respect the rights of others, to respect science, to use discernment over judgment, to cherish each day, and so much more.

All that said, (and yes, I know that I have been rambling).....

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY

TOO SOON

Phil, age 5

Snippets of memory flood my mind...flashes from a childhood that seems by today's standards really free and full of exploration and experience that cost nothing. Just two years separated us, with me being the elder, and for years he would follow me around, getting pincurls when I did, copying so much of what I did. And when anyone would pick on him,he would simply declare that they'd better watch out because his big sister would beat them up. (Not at all sure what I would have done had anyone ever challenged that last one.)

We stayed close through most of our adult life until a family squabble changed all that. Sadly, we had not spoken for years. Still, when he passed this past week after a too long illness, I could not help but remember the good times instead.

R.I.P Phil

WHY NOT...?

Why not holiday butterflies?

In the midst of working the early shift and dealing with what life brings into play, the holidays just seem to have taken a bit of a "back seat."

When I blithely said to a friend yesterday that maybe I would just have the ingredients on hand for a nice spaghetti dinner for Christmas day, she was aghast. "Wasn't tradition important to me?"

Don't get me wrong, I love traditions and place value on them.  But...when it comes right down to it, what really matters to me is not the tree, not the presents, not the wrapping, the songs, or the holiday baking. What really matters is having those I love near me, not only at this holiday season, but all the time.

So butterflies, spaghetti,...why not?

POST ROAD TRIP?...JUST SLEEP

Silver City mural

Mexican Trestle

Rio Grande

Animas River

Grand Mesa lake

Home from yet another great road trip and all I want to do right now is sleep, sleep, sleep. So, for now, I will merely share a few pictorial highlights from the road. Clearly, Jenna and I are enamored of rivers and trees...and the very bluest of skies. Our agreed upon highlight was the day in Las Cruces when we first hiked in Cloudcroft to the Mexican Trestle and then visited the phenomenal White Sands National Monument.

All in all, a wonderful trip with daughter #2 (wish I could get #1 out on one of these) filled with sights and sounds to remember, but not enough wildlife sightings, though we saw a handful of deer here and there.

It was a great break and when I am finished with catching up on sleep there is much to do here with a full week ahead. Back to reality, I guess.

AH, MORNING!

Color play

It's morning. and again I am that lucky person who is in it. (Mary Oliver)

A symphony of the senses seems to greet me each day.

Morning brings birdsong in abundance at this time of year. The voices of finches and mockingbirds, doves and crows, along with the more rare oriole, the blue jay, the occasional screech of an overhead hawk are all braided together into a long cord of sound.

The doves call, "Where are you, you, you?" My mind answers, "I am here, here, here." And yet, am I here? There is something in these sounds that sparks memories of so many distant past moments.

Part of the richness of life comes from sweet or bittersweet familiarity found in sight, sound, smell, taste that often inexorably draws us back into our past. For just a brief moment of time we can get to be four years old or fourteen and hold tight to something special uniquely to us.

Our lives are thus intricately woven symphonies of a mingling of the senses and memories of our past. I am a lucky morning person, too, Mary.

OLD MEMORIES, LIKE FINE WINE.......

Distant Mountains/Distant Memories

Some of us are more nostalgic than others, I suppose, but I do believe there is some need for looking back in each of us. Part of the richness of life comes from sweet or bittersweet familiarity that often inexorably draws us back into our past. For just a brief moment of time we can get to be four years old or fourteen and again be that someone special in someone's life--the favored grandchild or the first love or....

On this bitter cold winter day my mind takes me back to long ago memories of a childhood rich with sights, smells, touch, taste that even today can conjure special moments into the present time.

Times spent at my grandparents' home on the edge of a canyon in Redlands, California were always special. Wandering through the orange groves or picking avocados from a dozen trees or so, picking blackberries from the vines at the edge of a ravine in summer.... Crows circled overhead cawing loudly as they chased a soaring hawk; orange juice dripping down to elbows as I slurped through a juicy navel; purple stained fingers and bloody scratches on my arms from a foray into the vines...These and other memories of languishing with ease on a given warm day still are strong and present in my mind today.

"Don't sit under the apple tree with anyone else but me...," my grandmother's flute-like voice sang the words, her body swaying to the music, eyes looking far off somewhere as she played the piano. There I sat next to her, taking it all in, my feet dangling over the edge of the rich tapestry cushion that covered the piano bench. Looking back, I wonder what memories had gotten her attention in those moments.

Then there were the evenings sitting in front of the black and white television as my grandparents watched Spade Cooley, Lawrence Welk, or I Love Lucy. Smoke from their cigarettes drifted up through the light from the lamp between their two chairs as I watched from my place on the oriental rug that covered the floor.

As one of four children in what often seemed a chaotic life, these times alone with my grandparents or just alone as I wandered their property were special. I felt a bond, both with them and with the land that has stuck with me through the years.

Every day we make new memories that become interwoven into the fabric of our lives. The present, past and future intertwine to form a life. Yet we sip at the memories from the past and savor them like fine, aged wine. For they are
special.

ANGELS ABOUND!

So many angels

It would seem I have made enough collage angels what with the Sawdust Winter Fantasy ending this weekend, but I have more ideas and materials are all lined up to make more this weekend. Besides, everybody needs an angel and has their own specifics, right?
At any rate, come down to join in the fun, the music, the good food, and the many great artistic possibilities for gift giving. We are open from 10 to 7 both Saturday and Sunday.
And if you need tickets, just let me know.

CHRISTMAS PAST, PRESENT, AND FUTURE

Baja Christmas tree

Remembering Christmases past as we nudge ever so close to Christmas present.... This one was several years ago, celebrated with great friends in beautiful Baja along the coast, camping.In spite of tight quarters for packing I had dragged the makings along with me. This holiday was our last Baja trip and holds many fond memories.
What will Christmas present hold? Time spent with close family, watching the grandchildren go wild will be a cherished memory just as the camping one from the past is. We hope for many more memories to be made as we move forward and hope the same for all of you. 
Cherish the memories from the past, enjoy these present moments, and hold bright possibility for the future.
Happy Holidays to all!