Snapshot Sunday, August 17

 

The makings of a good birthday?  (Or a good any day, really.)  Good times with the one you love, and surrounded by the beauty of nature.  Couldn’t ask for more.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                      

A Blessed Moment

 

As I’ve said before, August 16 is always a melancholy day for me.  As the anniversary of my mom’s passing, I always have a lot of things on my mind, and on my heart.  The past couple of years, I’ve tried to busy myself with fun times and then only have the date to deal with after the fact.  And it was working pretty well today .  . .until it wasn’t.

Brian and I spent a couple of days in Eureka Springs, AR this weekend, and one of the things on my “visit” list was Thorncrown Chapel.  It looked really pretty in the pictures, and I wanted to see for myself.

Turns out, it is really pretty.  And more than that, it’s one of those places that I think Mama would’ve really enjoyed.  Those are the kind of fleeting thoughts that come to me more days than not—“Mama would like that”, or “I wish Mama could see this”. 

Like me, my mother was more spiritual than truly religious, but I know she would’ve appreciated the artistry of a church that would allow you to commune with nature while worshipping. But in that place, it seemed I was hit with that idea more strongly than usual, and it was almost like I could feel her there with me.   Of course, when the moment passed, I missed her all over again, but I wouldn’t trade that moment of connection.  And, besides, I know she’s always here with me, no matter where I am.

Twenty Eight Years and Counting

 

 

Like most little girls (or maybe just most girls), I had an dream of how married life would be and exactly what the “perfect husband” would be.  And, like many dreams, it turned out to be a lot different from reality.

But part of growing up is realizing that even though reality might not have a lot of similarities to dreams, it can still be just as good.  For instance, in my dreams, I wouldn’t have imagined an anniversary celebration consisting of lazing around, having a nice, leisurely lunch just talking to each other, and trying to map out the beginnings of a retirement strategy.  And if I had imagined it, I think I might’ve thought it was more nightmare than dream.  But you know what?  I would’ve been wrong.

After spending close to three decades living with someone day after day—and all of the challenges that come with that—there’s a feeling of contentment and belonging that comes from still enjoying a day just hanging out together, and a feeling of safety that comes from realizing that both of you still think it’s going to last for the rest of your lives.  If that’s not the stuff that dreams are made of, I’m not sure what is.

Celebrate!

 

Yes, I know that just yesterday I was a little annoyed with some recent goings on, but that doesn’t mean I’d want to trade the good ol’ US of A for anything at all.   So , today I spent the day doing the things I am most  grateful for, mainly, hanging out with family, talking, laughing, and having a variety of good food.   And, in my annual quest to get decent pictures of fireworks, I finally got a few that I was happy with, including the one above.  Nice way to end the evening.

So, happy birthday, America; let’s plan another party next year!

Money Can’t Buy It All

 

In the random news of the day, apparently Casey Kasem has disappeared—or, at least, his kids don’t seem to know where he is.  Apparently they are estranged from Kasem’s current wife, and believe that she may have moved him somewhere to deliberately keep them apart.   A judge has intervened in the family drama, and ordered an investigator to locate Kasem. 

Besides being sad to the young me that cherished the weekly countdown, it’s also a sad reminder that it doesn’t really matter if you’re famous or rich; none of us are guaranteed our health, nor a family that cares enough to always make the best decisions when we are unable to care for ourselves.  

Kasem has been ill for a while, requiring constant care, and may not even be fully aware of everything that’s going on.  But, I have to believe that he’d be better if all those who love him were able to visit with him, so I’m praying for a positive outcome for him, and his family.

Snapshot Sunday, Mother’s Day Edition

 

It’s Mother’s Day, and as every year for the past couple of decades, I miss my mama.  This year, I also miss my grandma.  And ever since the year he moved to California—even though he returned shortly thereafter—I have spent Mother’s Day away from my son, so I’m missing him, too.  Not to be all caught up in a pity party, but it’s really starting to bother me that a day that’s supposed to be a special celebration for me always leaves me sad and crying. 

On the upside, Brian and I went up to my office today and did a bit of housekeeping, since I’ve changed offices and haven’t had a chance to move my stuff.  And after that, we went for dinner at Ted’s, which I may have mentioned before is my favorite restaurant ever.  I appreciate that Brian indulges me, even though he’s not fond of the place.

But, this is Snapshot Sunday, so here are some photos of the two ladies who were always there for me as I was growing up, and beyond. 

Feel Good Friday, May 2

 

Nope, not particularly feeling good today.  I’m in a funk and ready to get out of it, but I don’t think it’s quite time.  Consequently, I haven’t really been spending much time on Facebook, and even when I have been, not much has really struck my fancy.

However, even though I didn’t dwell on it too much, I have to admit that I loved the idea of a kid taking his great-grandma to prom.  I have no doubt that she will cherish that memory for as long as she lives, and I hope that he will, too.

Ties that Bind

 

I’ve been thinking a lot about family lately.  Or, more accurately, what makes family.  There’s biology, of course, or sometimes legal unions.  But that makes relatives, which is not necessarily the same thing.

And, as I most always do, when I dwell too long on the topic of family, I also begin to dwell on my mom, and how much I really wish she was still around.  In this particular instance, because I think there are still some lessons I need her to teach me. 

She was one of those people who could make family out of anybody; she had a way of cultivating genuine love and concern for people, and people returned that affection.  But she also had a way of making actual family feel like it was important to belong to that select group—knowing that there was always a safe haven in any sort of storm, and being grateful for that sort of security.

Now it seems maybe I took that too much for granted; maybe I didn’t realize that those sorts of feelings don’t happen naturally, that they have to be coaxed and tended and cherished.  But, having realized that, I fear that it may be too late, that maybe I didn’t recognize it soon enough, and some relationships are already lost.  Or, maybe sometimes “family” is only one way; that’s possible, even if it’s not ideal.  I’m not sure, and I’ll probably never be sure, not entirely.  All I know for certain is that family matters to me, and you can bet I’ll be thinking even more, trying to figure out what it might take to make it important to others.

Snapshot Sunday, April 20

 

I know that earlier this week I was feeling a bit angsty about the upcoming Easter holiday, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have a moment or two of sadness today.  However, our actual family gathering was yesterday, a picnic at the lake.  And though certainly I missed the loved ones that were absent, it was still a great day.  The weather was beautiful, the food abundant, and the company the best.  It might’ve been a day early, with some important people missing, but I still think it was just about exactly the way a family holiday should be.

TBT

 

Once a week social media gets inundated with postings tagged with #tbt.  It’s Throwback Thursday, where people take a stroll down a photographic memory lane.  I have yet to dig out any of my own pictures from back in the day, but I like to see the ones my friends post; they make me smile.

I still didn’t find any pictures this week, but the hashtag did get my memory to wandering, probably heightened by an upcoming holiday family gathering.  And mostly what my memories tell me is that I really miss the good ol’ days.  My son will almost certainly skip the gathering, as he has grown distant from the family.  And, of course, my granny won’t be there, and I find that’s hitting me a little bit harder than I would’ve expected. 

It occurs to me today that the union of my personal Venn diagram of perfect holidays—those that I can spend with my mother, grandmother, sister, and son—is very small, and it’s never going to get any bigger. It also occurs to me that a couple of weeks of just not feeling well has  put me in a fairly melancholy mood, and this sadness that I feel is exaggerated.  But that doesn’t change the fact that I am sad, and I really do miss the times that seemed simpler, happier.  And while a silly little hashtag topic is probably not intended to bring about such gloominess, I think there’s little doubt that a yearning for simpler times is what brought about the theme to begin with, and keeps person after person posting photos from decades ago.  Which, of course, leads to the inevitable question:  will these days ever be considered the good ol’ days for some future generation.  It seems almost impossible, but the photos we take this weekend may someday be our children’s #tbt.

Six Word Kinship

 

 

Saturdays with family are the best!

New Show—Growing Up Fisher

 

Immediately after celebrating the end of the Olympics, I tuned in for the pilot of the new NBC show, Growing Up Fisher.  (Okay, to be perfectly honest, I started watching the premiere, but I fell asleep before it even really got going.  Thank goodness for DVRs.)

At any rate, as I have mentioned on more than one occasion, comedies aren’t really the high point of my television viewing, but I thought the previews looked entertaining.  Besides, I saw Daniel Hugh Kelly for a split second in one of the commercials, and I have to support the Hardcastle and McCormick alums.  Though, I fear I may have actually missed DHK’s grand moment.  Somehow, even though I set up the DVR for tonight’s second ep, it is not on my list of programs.  I’m hoping NBC has them online.

But, as you might have guessed since I’m hoping to track down the second episode, I enjoyed the first one.  Intellectually, I’m not convinced that a man could go through his entire life hiding the fact that he was blind, and I’m absolutely certain that a blind man couldn’t really parallel park a car, but I thought it was amusing just the same.

Even if the credulity is stretched a bit, though, I still enjoyed it, and I’m chalking that up mostly to some successful casting.  Primarily, the young boy in the main role really pulled it off.  I thought he did an excellent job at being simultaneously an innocent eleven year old and and a more worldly child who grew up wanting to help his dad as much as possible.  And not only that, but Eli Baker, the young man who portrays Henry Fisher, is just a cutie pie. 

Anyway, it’s a pretty typical family comedy, with long-married middle-aged folks deciding to divorce, and the way their kids cope with that.  The hook that makes this one different is that dad is not only a level-headed, friendly  and caring guy, but he’s also been blind since childhood.  Yet, Dad made it through not only childhood and puberty, but also found a wife, became an attorney, and raised a family, all while keeping the secret of his blindness.  Like I said, I’m not convinced that’s actually possible, but I think it makes a fun setup, and I’m looking forward to seeing how it all plays out.

Sunday Closings

 

We’re sitting here watching the closing ceremonies (I thought this day would never come!) and my mind was wandering over various sorts of things, when I realized that I missed posting here on Friday.  I’m not sure if I’m most upset that I missed the day, or that I didn’t even realize it for forty-eight hours.  Of course, there was a reason—mostly that I was simply worn out.  There had been family drama for a couple of days before that, which was not only emotionally draining as drama always is, but also kept me from sleeping well, meaning I was also physically drained.  So, by the time it seemed to resolve itself Friday afternoon, I was beat.  I came home, ate a sandwich, and did some homework, and then I was crashed on the couch by about eight o’clock.  The only problem I recognized at the time was that I also had to study for a mid-term I would be taking Saturday morning, so when I woke up a few hours later, the only thought on my mind was cramming a bit of extra bankruptcy information into my brain so I wouldn’t totally bomb the test.  It sort of bothers me that it didn’t even cross my mind that I hadn’t yet written my daily post.

Of course, it’s not the end of the world.  One of these days, I will manage a true streak of daily posting; I’m hoping to one day hit a full year.  The important thing is that the drama does actually seem to have been resolved, and other than a few nights of lost sleep, nobody seems too much worse for the wear.  And I think I even did mostly okay on the exam yesterday.  All in all, while my mind wanders erratically over any number of things, I think I’ll choose to focus on the positive, and I’m going to close out this weekend and consider the week a win.

A Mother’s Worry

 

“A mother who is really a mother is never free.” ~ Honoré de Balzac

 

My guess is that there aren’t too many parents out there who haven’t spent at least a few passing moments fearing that they just aren’t up to the job.  I know I’ve certainly done my share of wondering where I messed up and how I could’ve done things better.  Most times I simply have to remind myself that there was never a moment that I didn’t do the best I knew how to do at the time, and accept that there really isn’t much more than that to do.

Of course, I really have these moments of self-doubt at times when my son is facing any sort of difficulty in his life, particularly if it’s difficulty that he has either brought on himself or is somehow exacerbating.  Those are the times when I think perhaps I somehow didn’t prepare him adequately, or led him astray in some way.  But the truth is, it’s only my opinion that he might have caused or exacerbated his own problems, and I naturally have advice on ways to resolve difficult situations.  He frequently doesn’t agree with me, or at least doesn’t take my advice on how to fix things.  There are many times when it becomes painfully clear that we share a different world view on some key issues.  And even though that hurts sometimes, and even though I may remain convinced he’s not making good decisions, I have to recognize that he knows how to disagree with me because I spent his whole life trying to make sure he understood the importance of thinking for himself.  There are times I wish he hadn’t learned that lesson quite so well, and that I could simply tell him what to do and he’d blindly obey, but I know that would be doing him a disservice.  So I will continue to worry that perhaps I haven’t done as well as I might have hoped in the parenting department, and I will worry that my son may not always be taking the best path for his life, but I will try to cling to the idea that at least he’s following a path that he had the strength to choose for himself.

Six Word Sick Day

 

 

Class, lunch with family, now bed.

The Day

 

It’s been fifty-five years since the plane crash that took the lives of Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, and “The Big Bopper” Richardson, which was four years before I was born.  I always think it’s just a little bit strange, the way the pop culture icon types live on forever.  I grew up listening to the music of my mom’s generation, so I knew the giants hits of these men.  Plus, back then, you could still find them on the radio.  Not that you can’t still, but these days it’s only on the oldies channels.

But then, within my lifetime, Dan McLean went and wrote himself an anthem abut these people who died years before I was even born.  I don’t know for sure, but I think it’s possible that I didn’t even really know they has passed until the song—and until I bothered to figure out what it was about, of course.

Anyway, I think it’s cool the way celebrities achieve that sort of immortality, leaving behind a piece of themselves in the thing that they loved to do, but I do still think it’s sort of strange, the way subsequent generations might know their work and still assign life to them. 

And, I wonder how it is for the family.  Do they enjoy surfing the radio dial and hearing their husband/son/father suddenly booming from the speakers?  Or is it a sudden onslaught of pain all over again?  Or, as I suspect, is it really a combination of the two, never knowing how the memory might make them feel on any given day?  I know for myself, when unexpected thoughts of those I’ve lost come crashing into my consciousness, sometimes it brings a smile, and sometimes I am brought to totally unexpected tears.  I’d assume it’s the same for the family of celebrity, only for them, that unexpected thought might be triggered at any time when faced with the work of their loved one. 

And the other thing family and friends of the rich and famous have to deal with is the very public recognition of each anniversary of their loss.  As I’ve mentioned before, those anniversaries are difficult for me, and that’s without having my own loved ones’ date of death plastered all over Google and listings of significant dates in history.  I really can’t imagine how that must feel. 

So, today, while I can recognize the talent lost so quickly all those years ago, and while I can mourn that loss of potential, it’s really the surviving family and friends who are most on my mind.  I thank them for being willing to share their loved ones with the rest of us, and I hope that they find more joy than pain in their memories.

 

  And speaking of that anthem, here’s a live version.  I’m something of a purist, so I’d generally prefer to hear the recorded version I’ve known forever, but it’s good to mix things up now and again.  And, besides, I really do love this song.

Christmas 2013

 

Like yesterday, the normal daily topic will be suspended in honor of the holiday.  Besides, who wants to talk about weight loss on a day filled with eating yummy, yummy food?!

The best part of any holiday is always just the gathering together, and today was no exception.  Of course, there were plenty of moments when Granny crossed my mind, and it sort of didn’t seem exactly like Christmas without her, but I hope she was somewhere with my mom, seeing us all together, and knowing they left behind a strong family. 

But, all in all, it was a good day, with everyone getting along, lots of laughter, and, as I said, some yummy food.  Then Brian and I finished it off with Love Actually, one of my favorite Christmas movies. 

Really, it was the best kind of holiday, and I hope yours was the same.

Quiet Tradition

 

Tube Day Tuesday is taking a little break today, in honor of the holiday.  Not that there was no television today—there are few days like that for me!  Brian had a movie channel on for a while, though I wasn’t paying much attention to that, but after dinner we did watch It’s a Wonderful Life.  I mean, it’s tradition.  Really, I ought to get myself a copy of the thing, because I’d prefer to watch it commercial free, but you have to watch it, even if it means putting up with some ads.

But now, it’s time for my other tradition, sitting in the dark, only the glow of the Christmas tree lights (well, and for right now, the laptop), listening to the holiday music channel.  I’ll sit here quietly for just a while, then I’m going to stretch out on the couch and sleep in the glow of that magical light.  I can’t go to bed just yet because I’ve got to get up again in about four hours and put the potatoes on to cook, and I don’t want to disturb Brian in the middle of the night.  Then I’ll crawl into bed for just a couple more hours sleep before it’s time to get up for real and start getting everything ready for the day.

One tradition that won’t happen this year is eating cinnamon rolls and opening presents with Billy on Christmas morning.  This will be the first year he hasn’t lived at home for the holiday, and he’s opted to not come until the afternoon with the rest of the family.  I’m kind of sad about that, but I’m trying not to be selfish.  I know he’s a grown man now, but that doesn’t keep me from wishing our traditions were as important to him as they are to me.

But, I’m not going to let that disappointment keep me from enjoying my own tradition right now.  I’m going to soak up the peace of the season for just a short while, and I hope you have a moment or two to do that, too.

Thanksgiving 2013

 

 

 

 

 

 

Image courtesy of debspoons at

FreeDigitalPhotos.net

It’s been a long day.  The alarm went off only about half an hour later than any other day of the week, and still slightly before the sun came up.  But sometimes—a lot of times, really—good times require some effort.  And today was good times.  The family was here for lunch and we visited and laughed and ate a whole bunch of food.  I’m thankful that we have the opportunity.

And, as I spent my first Thanksgiving without Granny, I realized how fortunate I was to have her for as many as I did.  At my office, three of us have lost our grandmothers in the past few months, and I am by far the oldest of the trio; I know that I had a gift many, many people do not.  And while Billy may never have gotten to know my mother, he was blessed to grow up with a great-grandmother who adored him.  Today I am particularly grateful for that.

Honestly, as I sit here, tired, full, and reflecting on a good day and a good life, I am simply grateful.

Family Feud

 

“A father is a man who expects his son to be as good a man as he meant to be.” ~Frank A. Clark

Fathers and sons.  What is it with those guys, anyway?  I mean, I’ve always heard about the quarrelsome dynamic that exists between men and their male offspring, and goodness knows, I’ve certainly been witnessing it first-hand for years now, but I still don’t understand it.

Maybe I wasn’t prepared because I’d never been exposed to it personally before I began living it.  I have brothers, but they’re of the step variety, so we didn’t grow up in the same household.  Certainly there was some tension between them and our dad at the times they lived with us, but I always thought that was because they moved in with us as they were becoming young men after being separated from their dad for so long.  And Brian has never indicated that he went through any significant drama with is own father.  So how was I supposed to know what was lurking in the wings?

All I know for sure is that my husband and son have not particularly seen eye to eye on much of anything since the kid hit driving age.  And whatever frustration it is they feel for each other is exacerbated by the fact that neither of them can see—or at least won’t admit—how very much alike they are.  I keep thinking things will eventually improve, but I think at least one of them is going to have to grow up first.