"BEAMS OF LOVE"

 "We are put on earth for a little space,

That we may learn to bear the beams of love”

(William Blake)

That quote really resonated with me when 

I read it in the Preface to 

Tattoos on the Heart,by Father Gregory Boyle.  

Those "beams of love"have warmed me, 

lifted me, ignited me, 

especially in respect to my three beautiful children. 

I fell in love with them 

as soon as I met them, 

even as I was pregnant with them. 

 I loved being pregnant, 

and now I realize why—

I had my darlings closer to me than I could imagine. 

 Sometimes I yearned to hold back time

 when they were babies and toddlers. 

By the time my second child, Niki, was four or five,

 I really knew what it was like 

to watch days and years slip away 

from the clutching fingers of my heart.

“While you grow up, please don’t grow away” 

was my heart's mantra those days. 

 I can still recall with heartfelt clarity 

many of those love-infused moments with them. 

 My 31st birthday, when Matt was a dear six months old...

I remember that sunny July day 

in sweet detail even now, 75 years later. 

 I lifted him from his crib, his smiling face illuminating my heart.

 When I was nursing Niki as a new infant,

 as I looked into her newly minted eyes,

 I KNEW that we were already bound to each other, 

in some eternal way.  

As my toddler Jeff faithfully accompanied me on all my errands,

 his brother and sister now in school,

I loved having my sweet buddy by my side.

(A funny sidelight—

when Jeff was playing with his Fisher Price people (it’s an ‘80s thing), 

he would play “Toilet Store”, 

because I was hauling him around to Home Depot and other stores 

to shop for new toilets and sinks for our bathroom renovation. 

 He took our research quite seriously!

I revel in the memories now

 of my grandkids at those ages. 

 My firstborn Matt has two pictures in their home, 

of his wife Laura as an infant in her mother’s arms, 

and Matt at three months in mine.

Her Mom Sheila and I both share 

that peaceful besotted look of young mothers in love.

I sit here today, on a snowy December morning,

 warmed by these memories….grateful for that love 

which woke up my soul 

and busted through my heart.

I am ever grateful that I was given

 these sweet, beautiful “beams of love” 

to bear.

MASKING IT--

Did you ever feel that your mask is slipping?

What, didn't know you were wearing one?

Oh, I have a lifetime of them--

Found it difficult to settle 

On just one, but 

 if I were to choose a mask--

just one mask--

I'd like to choose this one--

It's so glamorous--

so RED--

and I feel immediately festive

 and mysterious 

just looking at it!

But what about all those times

when the masks

competed:

"Don't look unhappy=

don't be moody--

Moody was the big sin in my family..

I showed that moody face/mask

to the outside world....

Never, never, never!!!

Must be smiling and cheerful and pleasant..

sort of, "laugh clown laugh"

But then I had such a hard time

finding a laughing clown

who wasn't scary--

Better this safe smiley face--

So when I often stumbled through my life

sort of screaming inside,

I hoped the outside world

only saw this:

Whew!  Made it through another day

in the Sweet Masquerade

that is my life.

My Monday Candle

          It’s a small candle, burning modestly 

on this Monday afternoon,

 not asking much of me

 other than to be considered….. 

perhaps defined…..

and maybe just a little loved. 

 It’s small and lilac-scented

 and remarkable

 in that it’s the first candle

 I’ve burned in years.  

Years! 

 Because I’ve become cautious, 

and much older,

 and less frivolous…..

and maybe not candle-worthy?  

It’s flame is sweetly encouraged 

by my frequent glances, 

and seems to be proudly stretching 

its fiery point

 beyond the confines of the glass. 

It’s not flashy,

 just steady, 

and only modestly hints 

at the lilac-whisper scent 

imbedded in its soul.  

Yet it remains content

 to sit by my side,

 my silent companion

 on this what-shall-I-do-today Monday.

  It promises delights 

that I may yet encounter

 as I let it burn,

 a serene 

and comfortable

 companion.

My Love Affair with Words

          According to my mother, 

I talked before I walked.  

Of course I did! 

           Words are wonderful...words express me--my feelings and observations.... words mirror my life.  

What could be more fascinating?

          It follows that next I would love the words 

on the printed page--

beginning with comic strips.  

There is a precious early photo of me 

before the age of two,

 avidly reading those same comic strips 

from the daily paper...

My favorite Golden Book:  

The Poky Little Puppy...

My favorite Christmas present:

the illustrated edition of Little Women...

HEAVEN!

What a word prodigy I was---

and still am 75 years later.  

When I was a child growing up in Chicago, 

the public library 

allowed us to borrow many books 

over the summer weeks: Vacation Loan! 

        I can still see myself carrying 

those sweet burdens of bound words 

home in my bicycle basket

from the Austin branch library--

           I discovered in college that I also enjoyed

 filling up blank sheets of paper

 with my own lovely words---

in poetry, journals, short stories. 

 I earned some part-time money

 writing how-to articles, humor pieces, 

springing from my Mommy experiences. 

Always I was journaling, 

and I now have innumerable notebooks, 

often only half-filled with my angst 

and yearnings and observations, 

my joys and my anguish, 

my soul's outlet. 

Words as therapy or celebration,

always beautiful words. 

My granddaughter Bella 

has just begun her reading journey, 

and she rhapsodizes, 

"Grandma, it's amazing!"  

It is indeed most wonderfully amazing....

the Kingdom of Words!

What's She Up To Now?

          As I viewed some fabulous travel photos posted on Facebook by one of my world traveler friends, I had to grab onto this great image and message she had attached to the bottom of her travel pictures:

          I was not at all surprised to hear my daughter comment when I showed her: "We say that about you all the time!"

          See, I take that as a compliment.  Physically and financially, I am not fit to travel around the world, but in my head I'm "all over the place".  I ALWAYS have to be "Up To Something!  Life's just more fun and juicy that way.

          Take my summer project--researching the death out of online real estate information.  I have some dear friends who live in a condo complex in Chicago. When my bestest buddy Marianne purchased one late last May, I just had a brain flash:

"This is MEANT TO BE"...I'm supposed to buy a condo there!

         So I proceed to merrily access all the floor plans and photos I could absorb online...looking up endless articles about mortgage rates, "rent vs buy" calculators, condos with all the features we needed, blah, blah.  This was weeks BEFORE I consulted a mortgage lender who concisely informed me that my financial situation would not warrant any living change from "rent" to "buy".

         I knew that it would be a financial stretch to buy, since my last home purchase in 2006 ended up in foreclosure in 2010.  It takes seven years for that black mark to disappear from your "permanent record".  Makes sense.  I was caught up at the worst possible time in the financial nightmare facing so many people.  In 2009, I retired and tried for most of that year to change my mortgage payment, or sell my condo in a short sale.

         I left the condo and started renting while my credit rating was still shiny, and I have been renting ever since.  I am happily sharing a nice place with my daughter in Arlington Heights, a northwest suburb of Chicago where we raised our three chicks for nineteen years.  It has the BEST library (very important to me) with the fine feature of a drive-thru facility which I use at least weekly to pick up books and DVDS.

         More importantly than the fine library is my location to my grandbabies, my two sons and their wonderful wives...one is ten minutes away, and the other 30 minutes away.

          So if I must rent, I am in a great location, and a comfortable apartment for us, with great maintenance and management, a pond view and a few steps out to our car...that few steps feature important to me in my not-so-great legs condition these days.

          So when I was faced with the fact of renting better than buying, I closed the door on my buying real estate Quest, with a surprising feeling of relief...no financially scary venture.

          BUT NOW I HAVE TO GET "UP TO" 

SOMETHING ELSE--AND VERY SOON.  

STAY TUNED!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME--SURVIVING MYSELF!

So after being away from blogging

for an outrageous six weeks,

I return on the eve of my 75th birthday,

THE BEST DAY OF THE YEAR: JULY 20TH!

I will navigate the entire day thinking, 

it's today, today, today!

But how could 74 years trundle by

with such joy and sorrow, 

laughter and tears?

How did I survive MYSELF

all these years? 

74 years of being a daughter

71 years of being a sister

69 years of being a friend

15 years of schooling

33 years of marriage

44 years of being a mother

30 years of several careers

7 years of being retired

8 years of being a Grandma/Nonny

Oh, my many addresses and homes:

13 in all!

What variety in my life!

Changing body weight...

Changing careers...

Changing homes...

Changing cars...

Changing dreams and schemes...

Changing clothes...

Changing channels...
Changing my mind...

74 YEARS OF A WONDERFUL LIFE!

****HELLO, 75, 

HAPPY TO SEE YOU!****

LET'S GET PHYSICAL! PHYSICAL!

          Wow! Almost a month since I graced these pages 

with my precious words!  What HAVE I been doing? 

Well, once again I was facing physical therapy sessions
 to strengthen my legs

and my "CORE" (very important)

to help with my walking.

Now, without bragging, I have logged much time

 in physical therapy over the years, 

with arthritis plaguing my knees and my hips

 and my shoulders and my back.

If there was a Frequent Flyer Program for Physical Therapy,

I would be pumping iron (well, weakly pushing iron)

 around the planet!

ANYWAY, this winter, I started out like this, 

because sitting is my favorite position in life:

I was HORRIFIED at my first time to the

Physical Rehab Center

when I saw these machines--

like some MEDIEVAL TORTURE CHAMBER!

(I know I saw the original rack from the

Spanish Inquisition by the back wall)

But with constant encouragement from my cute Physical Therapist:

I moved on from this:

I was soon thrilled to be there every day...

.....that I was soon doing this:

And just couldn't stop--LOVE those machines now:

Even found myself streeeeeetching around the house:

AND I'VE ONLY BEEN GOING 

TO THIS ROUND OF THERAPY

FOR A FEW WEEKS!!!

"GONNA DANCE!"

Has it really been almost a month since my last blog (sigh).  Well, as the trees and flowers start blooming, so will I venture out from my winter lethargy.  These lyrics popped into my head as I sat here with my morning Monet mug of coffee:
                                                               

                                                        Gonna dance, gonna fly, 

I'll take a chance riding high,

Before my number's up, 

I'm gonna fill my cup,

I'm gonna live, live, live, until I die!

I've been sitting around too long on my winter ass, and it's time to "dance" and "fly".....well, maybe just walk around a bit...celebrate the tulips and blossoming trees...the sunshine and this beautiful Mother's Day spread out before me.

What an incredible gift, to be a mother and grandmother, to spill over with love and joy in my world of hugs and laughter...to hear Rosie say "Nonny", to hear Bella trill "Beautiful Grandma" (I coached her)...to see Jake growing tall and handsome.

To have my wonderful daughter as my roommate going on a third amazing year together...To see my boys as husbands and fathers, strong and funny and so "there" for their lovely wives and children...living their lives with humor and intelligence and spirit.

What a gift is this chance to "live, live, live, until I die"!

WORD CONSTIPATION

          Writer's Block--Need a Laxative!

          I really looked at the books 

on my headboard bookcase 

by my bed this morning, 

and my eyes fell upon a small book

 entitled A Writer's Workshop.

Hmmmm......a tiny sign for the day?  

        The foreword of the book contained the following quote, by Honore de Balzac.  The Workshop writer slyly mentioned Balzac had still "managed to churn out some ninety novels in his lifetime." (And without a computer or delete key or SpellCheck!)

"...And the writer is a looker-on

at his talent's suicide..." (Balzac)

          Most days I have a small goal to write, usually in this blog, 

to keep from being "blocked up" by unwritten words.

          I once earned a bit (a small bit) of money with freelance writing, but I didn't stay with it...just not a "sure thing", so I lost impetus.  If I was blocked up on those many non-writing days, I usually ignored the bloated sensation.

          

          But my state of retirement presents me with the dubious gift of unscheduled time...my trusty laptop beckons.  Even as I find it difficult to walk around with arthritis tugging tiresomely at my back, I certainly find sitting still comfortable.  So writing is physically fetching.....just mentally annoying.

          If you don't write anything, 

then you don't write badly....

or stupidly.  

And yet I cannot ignore the sweet feeling 

of having written.

          I have been guided--and goaded--

by feelings and intuition all my life.

 (Sometimes even a good thing.) 

          And so, dear little blog, 

you are my conduit for words, 

for some attempts at verbal expression.....

small little steps....
blop
                  blop....

Sweet Relief !

(Did this entire crappy metaphor 

really start with"Writers Block"?)

Aren't you glad we have reached "the end"?

(snicker)

BIBBIDI BOBBIDI BOO!

          After years of coming to grips with the fact 

that I am not living in a fairy tale. 

*That after the prince takes you to the castle, 

you will have to do his laundry

 and clean said castle... 

*That the Coach needs a regular oil change

 and breaks down in subzero weather...

*That it's hard to find any good footmen these days, 

and why would I need one anyway... 

*That "happily ever after" cannot be sustained forever.

***That I have to be MY OWN FAIRY GODMOTHER!!!!

Really not the worst revelation--

I've had years to get used to this idea.

Probably started when I would get to the end of a 

"My Life Will Be Perfect When......." moment

And discover that yes, I had that 

college degree/job/husband/home/kids/retirement...

BUT still not "Perfect", Not "Ever After"

(But really still very, very nice.)

And I didn't have to wait around for that Fairy Godmother 

To appear and grant all these outlandish wishes,

BECAUSE I WAS MY OWN FAIRY GODMOTHER!

As Glinda The Good Witch told Dorothy 

at the end of her travels down that yellow brick road

(and WHY couldn't she have told her this at the beginning?):

"You had the power all along, my dear."

I have always held the wand, had the power, 

to grant my own wishes,

to dream and then go after that dream,

To be happy with the ever after

That is RIGHT NOW",

to be oh-so-grateful for that "right now".

Because that is the true power... 

That knowing you are holding the wand

And you can wave it as wildly and strongly as you want.

That you have a nice orthepedic pair of Ruby Slippers,

And can (slowly) click them together at will.

The TRUE Fairy Tale

is having my own (worn out) Wand

And clicking my own (scuffy) Ruby Slippers

Happily

Ever

After!