memory mosaic
July 25, 2011 § Leave a comment
What if we traded predesigned cards for letters, looked past unnecessary collectables and gathered memories in print or photographs to honor birthdays and special occasions? A year or two ago a friend celebrated her husband’s birthday in letters; blank stationery accompanied each invitation for guests to share a memory or story. A mosaic of eclectic moments from a life held together by friendship and love. Enamored by the sentimental gift of memories, I immediately longed for the pages of letters that have littered my past.
As a little girl I would connect pieces of my life from one parent’s house to another in letters. I would write friends from what felt like the other side of the world. Letters seemed to transport friends from school years past into the present tense, filling unfamiliar moments with comfort. I miss the bold careful print in brightly colored crayons and awkward loops of early script punctuated with scribbles.
In love, I created stories in letters. I would focus on the good and let pages of daydreams mark the space of young love. Too young to date, I tied my notes in heartstrings and tucked them into a young boy’s letterman jacket to keep myself in his thoughts. I wonder how close my dreams of love would reflect the life I have created.
Even now, faces from another time come to me in unexpected memories and I send a note sharing the sentiment. Tiny trinkets of gratitude, inspiration, or humor for moments from lives intersecting. I often wonder how these words are received, but mostly I find joy in the act of sharing the timeless gift of remembering.
inheritance
July 24, 2011 § 2 Comments
When we get married we inherit new family with old stories. Woven beneath traditions are habits that can foster a feeling of connection as naturally as they can make one feel misplaced. Nostalgia gleans over difficult moments while basking in happier times. Sometimes we find a place of belonging and other times we struggle to wade through unmarked territory.
My husband and I met one another’s family in our Sunday best; everyone sparkled, poised and polished, on their best behavior. Over time health concerns, conflicting opinions, and irreversible mistakes have piled sloppily between us creating boundaries. Spaces marked with sadness or anger that we tiptoe over and around. I wonder, is it better to create a quiet space marked by limits to preserve feelings or do we remove walls and accept what we struggle to forgive?
I won’t strip away the simple dignity that accompanies privacy with details; this space where I set aside my thoughts feels deceptively intimate. Still, I cannot believe that something as universal as family would go unshared even among strangers. So I’ll pose these questions to no one in particular. How do we love openly with different values? How do we find our way when we close our eyes to ward off hurt? Is it more painful to forget or remember?
stormy weather
July 22, 2011 § Leave a comment
I wish I were someone who loved Mother Nature’s artful strokes of lightning or disorienting clashes of thunder the way I wish I could swan dive into the ocean. Instead I hide under the covers and peek at the sky with awe and terror completely humbled by the limitless authority of nature. This morning dark clouds gathered overhead, erasing the sun from the sky. Watching the water pour outside my windows I wished I could wash away my fear and let the beauty bring me peace.
Today’s storm arrived shortly after I returned from driving my daughter to her last day of summer school. Fear clouded my thoughts and I wanted to gather my daughter home; to know she was safe nearby. Watching the mature trees in our neighborhood sway strongly against the wind I weighed the safety of my imagined rescue mission against reality. Motherhood seems to ask us to place so much of our own happiness and fear in the hands of variables we can neither predict nor control. Each burst of thunder seemed to mock my doubts.
The storm is waning; clouds scattering and the rhythm of raindrops tapering into a predictable percussion. I am coming out from under the covers to marvel at the sheer brilliance of the trees no longer dangerous but rather resplendent from their shower. Silly me, there were no monsters under the bed, only shadows.
smile
July 21, 2011 § 1 Comment
You know the moment. Sitting on an awkward plastic chair, in front of a baby blue background, smiling like a serial killer at an impersonal camera lens while hoping for a photograph you can safely pull out of your wallet without scaring strangers. My photographic history with my driver’s license was always one of disinterest. Then, one hot day a few years back, I joined the ranks of emotionally scared survivors of bad photographs. So much so, that when an occasion called for me to share the photograph I would automatically apologize. Recently, a letter in the mail arrived offering an easy license renewal by mail with the benefit of a Safe Driver acknowledgment. I cast aside safety for vanity. This morning, I went through the motions of updating my photo. The new Am I That Blonde photo is a happy replacement to my Transvestite With a Mohawk mug shot. Thinking this I smiled and my son, ever watchful, declared to all present: Go back! Whatever you were just thinking, have them take that picture!
today
July 20, 2011 § 1 Comment
A worn page from another life; a reminder from my younger self to be present. The moment documented in the careful script of a child on the verge of womanhood, a romantic realist.
Yesterday is unchangeable,
Tomorrow unknown,
Today my own.
I don’t remember what inspired the sentiment, but it seems I have found a beautiful gift tucked inside a small box filled with mementos from another time.
greener grass
July 19, 2011 § Leave a comment
Today is so hot I considered taking back every unkind thought I ever held for snow. I am a Summer person; sunshine and sand. Or am I? Form fitting bathing suits have me fantasizing about comfy jeans and oversized sweaters, cocoa and down comforters. Come winter I will curse the frozen tundra of my backyard and bemoan bulky snow gear. I am a contradiction; decidedly wishy-washy. Maybe I am a Fall person or possibly Spring.
monday makeover
July 18, 2011 § 1 Comment
It felt like Monday. From the moment I slipped out of bed the day seemed to unfold with assumptions; the predictable squeezing out the anticipation of possibility that seems to accompany Friday. Not one to dwell in pity I formulated a plan. I shuffled my have to’s, need to’s, and want to’s like a deck of cards and plucked at random items until I had one of each. Then I set the timer. With my daughter in summer school for the morning and my son finishing up a few projects I embraced my window of unstructured time and engaged in activities that gave me a sense of accomplishment while also enjoying an indulgent moment; centering myself and catching my breath for the week ahead. I am starting my week with a smile and a sense of possibility.
musical chairs
July 17, 2011 § Leave a comment
Spontaneous gatherings with friends and their children have taken on a peer inspired panic reminiscent of a traditional children’s party game. We meet amidst the chaos of enthusiastic hellos only for the noise to settle into calm leaving someone without a place. Lately it is my daughter who stands alone desperate for a chair among friends.
I am reminded of early days as a married couple; the fallout of couple casualties as spouses either joined existing friendships or resisted. Similarly the days when parenthood was new and other friends, without the obligations of children and evenings cut short from exhaustion, would embark on different paths as we settled into the rhythm of family life. Now as our children each different genders, ages, and needs look for their friends’ faces among our friends’ children I find myself grateful for those rare families who’s lives fit ours like puzzle pieces. Where the music never ends and no one is left standing alone.
a mouse in the house
July 16, 2011 § Leave a comment
I am anxious of anything smaller than me that moves quickly, including children, but more recently an uninvited house guest. Open exterior doors and floors littered with crumbs we had rolled out the red carpet unintentionally. I heard my daughter proclaiming its presence, an awkward shuffling of toys, and a door closing in dramatic haste followed by thunderous footsteps. Our guest had settled into the black hole of our home, the LEGO room. The floor a technicolor terror of primary colors and shelves still hiding hard to reach remnants of last year’s Halloween candy I carped the diem out of my dilemma; I sealed the door with painter’s tape and called for reinforcements. I did not want it here or there, I do not like mice anywhere.
frantically unalarmed
July 15, 2011 § Leave a comment
I woke up yesterday unassisted by the persistent, mechanical nudge of my faithful alarm clock. I had tumbled to bed the evening before, only half conscious having fallen asleep nestled on our couch, the blanket my mother made me keeping out the chill of the air conditioner. I missed a step and my alarm slept unset. It was a rare sleep from which I woke uncertain of the day and obligations. In fact it took me a moment to register I was late. I don’t like the chaotic panic of multitasking morning routines in fast forward so I consciously let go of normal and shifted my focus. This is why I am sharing an otherwise uneventful moment: one small change and my morning unfolded with promise. In slowing down, even with less time for simple routines, I was tuned in to what I was doing rather than going through the motions of the morning. My expectations changed and I was happily surprised. Everything did get done. Everyone was prepared for the day. My morning was alarmingly, pleasantly calm.
