something I learned from her

Unknown-1.jpeg

There are things that stay with us. Words that matter and have meaning far beyond the moment they are spoken.

I was always a little intimidated by her quick wit; the ability and forthrightness as she said what was on her mind. In awe of her intelligence. In another sphere she could have been a doctor, lawyer, an author. As a cherished Grandmother and lover of Christmas, her days were full.

She let me know that contrary to what I was taught, it is ok to drink beer from a bottle. It’s ok to sit on the beach with the wind blowing our hair and laugh and drink beer as we sat huddled in down jackets determined to enjoy the frigid day at the beach.

She hugged me tight the last time I saw her and said “…we had a good run, Susie.  We had a good run”.

She taught me to look at things I can’t change and be able to say “….we had a good run” while I step into tomorrow.

 

 

Advertisements

in the middle of moving

box-2484376_1920.png

“In the middle of moving” is how the email note started that was from my friend this week.  I’m not sure where the move is to but I am sure that he’ll look up when he lands and steps into lifestyle changes and he’ll find fierce inspiration in all he does. ‘Cause that’s just how he rolls.  Continue reading

pig moments and the accidental collection

IMG_4194.JPG

Well, it’s interesting that Sigmund Freud harkens the psychology of collecting with ties back to toilet training.  And in his way, he says that the loss of control and what went down the toilet was a loss we strive to get back by collecting things. Give or take a literal translation of his theory.  Continue reading

my Mom’s dreams

IMG_2677.JPG

As we hit our teenage years, our Mom is around sometimes like an unwanted appendage weighing us down and sometimes like a crutch holding us up.  We’ve all been there; “ohhhhh Mom, really??” and the phone calls “Mom……..it’s me…”.

It’s a hard transition from being a needy child to being a teenager and then to a young parent ourselves doing it our own way.  And all along the way our Mom is there trying to fit into our ever changing outlook on what she should be for us.  This isn’t a bad thing; it’s a natural progression. Maybe it’s also a natural progression to soften the edges and embrace her with respect and a  deep connection as we age along with her, and to long for missed opportunities after it’s too late to take them.

I look at this picture of my Mom from very long ago and wonder what dreams she had. I never asked her. I never knew since we didn’t have much of a relationship beyond my childhood, and then not anywhere close to knowing what she dreamed of. I feel sad for that.

Ask your Mom what she dreams of.   Then love her for her dreams.

 

 

 

9 people, 6 days, a tribe and a mug

IMG_4143 (1).JPG

9 people in a room for six days.  Like really, really in a room.  Not leaving. And days are 12-14 hours long. That’s what it means to work for our election as an officer facilitating advanced voting opportunities for the masses.

I don’t care who you are, it still takes a big inhale and twinge of expectation and anticipation mixed up with the tiny insecurities we all pack around when you commit to in this case, 6 days of intense group dynamics.  Continue reading