Sex and Death

Posted in It's about the little things by

I heard an interview last week that Howard Stern did with James Taylor, recorded in the early 1990’s. I am not old enough to have been a James Taylor fan when he had his first number one hit “Fire and Rain” but I bought his greatest hits CD in the 90’s (when people were still buying up CDs) and I was addicted to it and a fan ever since. The feeling that I got from hearing him in the Stern interview was total peace. He spoke so serenely and seemed to be at total ease with life. The sound of him playing his guitar and singing was hypnotic. All I could do was say “wow” while I listened in awe. But the thing that stuck with me the most was what he said his songs were mostly about: sex and death. Sex being the magic potion in life and death being the undeniable finality to life, this made me admire him and be sad for him all at once. Sex and death. It so poignantly reminded me of how awesome and fragile life is, all of it. James Taylor is an amazing person. I wish he was still writing lots of songs. “How sweet it is” to hear his soothing voice. -smilngbug

Life and Relationships

Posted in Loved ones make our world by

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I phoned my father and right at the start of the call he said “so listen to what is going on here.” I heard the excitement in his voice that I had heard other times, it’s awesome to me in a way that few things are.  My heart filled with joy and love for his happiness.  How many people in our lives can touch our heart in that way? And what makes it so with some and not so with others?  It takes me back to being a small child and it also makes me think of my children and how they view me.  Like a lot of people, my parents were larger than life to me when I was a kid.  Also like most people, by the time I was an adolescent I started to see them with their strengths and weaknesses.  As a grown person, I can admire and feel for them on many levels.  Meanwhile I think of my kids’ view of me.  It’s a foreign thing to imagine I’m viewed by my children the way my parents were viewed by me, being that I never feel like a grown up no matter how old I am.  I remember thinking that my parents looked the same in every old photo when I was a kid.  Even if they were ten years old in the photo it seemed the same grown parent I knew was staring back at me in that photo.  It’s been said that life is all about relationships and if you think about it, what would this life be without them? -smilingbug

She Loved Us & We Loved Her

Posted in Loved ones make our world by

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Make up, looking in the mirror, is that me?
Children in black clothes, rushing, formal attire
Sad faces, serious faces
Where am I?
This is it, this is really it

Dad’s face, my face
How old are we?
I feel twelve, we look so much older
Many, many people
Friends, Strangers, stories

“To this day when something big happens in my life I wonder if she would be proud of me”
“I’m lucky enough to have been her god daughter”

“We had just met and she threw me a baby shower, at her home”
“She wrote a note to say she would miss him”

Shaking hands, hugging, smilng, crying
Faces that cause crying, words that cause laughter
We aren’t meant to stay here forever
It still hurts

Black dresses, black suits, driving rain
Ushers, ties, jackets
Kneeling down, crying
“I’m so sorry, I’ll see you right away when I go there”

Cars driving, how could this be?
Prayers, words, trembling voices
Loud organ music, suits, hugging, crying
A photo being handed around, brief smiles
A handkerchief, wrinkled and held tightly

“She loved us and we loved her”

People gathered, words, tears, laughs

“A second mother, an honorary grandmother”
A child speaks, then there are chuckles
I do not want to say goodbye to the casket
I touch it as it passes, want to stop it and hold on to it forever
Do not leave, please stay
But now it is carried away

Cold rain, mud and ice, umbrellas
Tightly crumpled handkerchief, like a child’s blankie
A crank lowers, flowers are removed
Staring at the casket, keeping my eyes on it
Maybe it will stay forever if I keep my eyes on it

It is too low to see
Silent Sobs, cries, tears
With God now, safely wrapped, cradled

“May the angels take you to paradise”
“Rest with God, rest in peace”

White table clothes, silver platters
Sliced beef, warm rolls
Framed photos, black and white memories
Wine, cocktail napkins, music

Somewhere over the rainbow 
Slide show flashing, a life of wonderful times
Talks, reconnecting, sharing
How they got the news, how we met
Who traveled from where, when we will see each other next

“Thank you for being who you are, she loved you so much”
“I got all of the updates, she loved those little boys so much”

The sun comes out, the circle of life goes on
“She would have loved this party,
Don’t you think?”

Death: Part of life but so painful

Posted in Life is short and precious by

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“You always think you have more time” I told my mother in law.  “No,” she disagreed “not at our age, people have died much younger.”  So sad and undeniably part of being human.  My brother in law recently went through the pain of losing his younger brother, the hurt from that loss unimaginable.  A long time friend in the community passed away recently and it’s still shocking to think he isn’t here.  Death is such a definitive part of life and yet it’s so difficult to reconcile.  Since our aunt passed away last week we have been walking around numb and dazed.  Monday and all of the responsibilities of life called so here we are, pushing on as everyone says “she would want us to do,” and of course as we must.  My Mom said “she was called back to heaven to do other work there” and I think of her having no idea she was about to leave and wonder how that can be.  It is so heart wrenching that she will not be with us that I don’t even want to think about future family time without her.  I know she would want us to have those times, celebrate life and be happy.  Maybe missing her so much is selfish.  Meanwhile believing in our destiny and putting faith in what God has planned for us is everything, so why then does it hurt so much, why aren’t we programmed to have a resistance to this sadness and heartache.  The human condition, I guess, the lessons and growth and reasons we’re here.  My husband said “it’s all part of the journey” but it didn’t make me feel better either.  During the night when I toss and turn, each time waking up and thinking “it’s true, she is gone” I think of the Mom in town who lost her husband unexpectedly last year or the children who went to school at Sandy Hook in December.  So much pain yet such a real part of this life.  My sister says to focus on the beautiful blessings around us and of course this is true, and I am so grateful, but it doesn’t lessen the pain.  She wasn’t my aunt for my life time and yet an amazing, loving person can touch your heart so deeply.  I’m the first to say “appreciate each day” however, the loss weighs a million pounds and it’s on my shoulders, on my neck muscles, behind my sore eyes.  Thinking of the last phone call, the last email, the last letter, why did that have to be the last one, but of course I know the rational reasons.  “My dear—…We leave on Friday—…I wish all of you were going with us—… Much love.” -smilingbug

Forever Young

Posted in Observations of society and life by

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I walked up to the entrance line at the X-games pushing a stroller and carrying a baby in a carrier on my chest.  My older kids were all doing different things and my husband was working.  The walk way was filled with mud, gravel and some old slushy snow.  There was an empty Jack Daniels bottle on the side of the walk way and the young people around me starting joking about it.  “Someone is having a good time!” and the like.  Then their conversation turned to the serious topic of the usefulness of the plastic Jack Daniels bottles.  One of the guys wore a red stretch fabric over his face.  No one made eye contact with me and when my toddler asked me questions and I answered him people around us resisted the urge to look at us.  We were the elephant in the room because these young people were there to underage drink and have a rowdy time, not to be around someone who reminded them of their parents or teachers.  Gross.  I’ve heard that being around young people keeps you young but on this day is was making me feel one hundred years old.  Still, no one could wipe the smile off of my face.  Even if I was out of place with my stroller and baby Bjorn, being at the X-games could not be less exciting.  The promotional displays, courageous athletes and that glorious half pipe…all set on the side of a beautiful ski lift mountain. I did eventually see a few people with small children; they were struggling with a tired or hungry kid, offering their kid a snack or carrying them on their shoulders.  I also saw my older kids’ friends and they were happy to see a familiar face in this sea of people so they gave me a big hello or smile.  I dropped a baby blanket in the mud on the walk way to the entrance, I did not stand in line for any free stuff or autographs.  But I did take in all of the sights and sounds, I watched the action and felt alive, and maybe I did feel a little young. -smilingbug

Over Stimulated?

Posted in Observations of society and life by

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My daughter played a 90 second relaxation recording for me. It was really clever, telling you to relax and not worry about the things you are missing out on by not looking at your cell. She also joined her hundredth social media site (exaggerating but almost!) called Starmatic. I have to make a list of my social media memberships with user names and passwords because there are so many. I was at lunch with some lady friends (a very rare treat for me) and they were commenting on the fun they have on Facebook. I heard kids joking a while back that “facebook is for olds” and now I’m thinking it’s true. There are so many social media avenues, if you are primarily on Facebook (and Instagram, too) you might be underdeveloped in the internet world, “LoL”. A few nights ago we had a cell-free dinner and I think we’ll keep it that way. All of us had to put our cell phones face down, off of our persons and with no sound on. As soon as we put them down someone’s started to vibrate and my hubs had to take them far away from the table so that they weren’t a distraction. If you think about it, it’s nuts how accustomed we are to being continuously stimulated by something on our cell, something on the internet, something on twitter or facebook or in our email in box. I saw this article on Inc. about being more productive and one of the tips is to periodically disable text and emails, another is to completely disconnect for 12 hours per day. That sounds so wonderful, 12 hours with the ringer off, not looking at notifications, not allowing the curiosity of a news feed to take over. How about trying that for 12 hours today? -smilingbug

Every Day a Gift

Posted in Life is short and precious by

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Every death that I’ve heard of in the last couple of weeks of this year has taken me back a bit because I think to myself “that person was probably planning for 2013, ready for new year’s eve, thinking of 2012 as practically behind us as we prepare for 2013.”  My daughter asked me this morning what age I think I will live to be and I told her no one knows how long we have here.  Tonight my neighbor knocked on our door and I thought it was my husband so I told my daughter to let him in.  Instead she told me to come over and I greeted my nice neighbor Brian with a big smile but what he said turned my face to shock and sadness.  He told me that one of our downstairs neighbors died today while at work.  She was 49 years old, I thought she was younger.  We called her “Pinky” because of her bright pink lipstick colors.  In the summer she was on her road bike daily.  In the winter her skis were outside of her door.  I know we make more noise than she liked but she still smiled at us.  Now every interaction I had with her is coming back to me and I’m sad.  When I stood in shock talking to Brian he said “life is fragile” and it’s a statement that cannot be over used for it is so intensely true.   All I can think of is Pinky not being here anymore, how she left her apartment this morning thinking she would be right back after work.  She rode the bus to work so her car is sitting in it’s spot.  Every day here is a gift. -smilingbug