As unreasonable as it might seem to others, it IS an issue to me when John asks if he has to shave. And he has at least 1/4" of stubble on his face. And he is going to an art show opening, where I would expect he would want to make his best impression. And we discussed last night, when I said it was fine to go unshaved because we would be with a friend who's practically family BUT that he'd need to shave before heading to Artists Gallery on Saturday.
John likes ME to make his decisions, even when it's clear what the best one is.
As unreasonable at it might seem to others, it IS an issue with me when John doesn't stop doing something that puts me at risk because it's more convenient for him to keep on doing it. This happens a lot. Sometimes in very dire situations. Today, he ran the kitchen spigot for hot water, in spite of knowing I was working with chocolate in the same area & that chocolate does NOT like water. As soon as I realized what was happening, I asked him to turn off the water. He did - after it got to the heat he wanted, not before.
Sorry to all those who say he's just being a guy & that it's unreasonable of me to expect him to think for himself & to be considerate even when it might be inconvenient - I expect better & do take it as a slight when he leaves it to me & puts me at risk.
Didn't get upset, just canceled my plans to go out with him to lunch. That WOULD have been foolish, feeling as I did. I'd say maybe next time he'll realize the consequence of his thoughtlessness, but - alas - it's not likely.
Saturday, December 6, 2014
Tuesday, December 2, 2014
Coolest dream ever?
Possibly! Very possibly!
Almost every time I've dreamt, the gist of it slips away between opening my eyes & swinging out of bed. Not this one.
Background
It was impossible to sleep last night. Well, not exactly true. Twice, I'd fallen off & both times John woke me up getting out of bed, which is unusual as I typically could sleep through a massive storm paired with an earthquake. Not this a.m. - eyes wide open. Wasn't stressed or tense or over caffeinated. Just AWAKE. Gave in at 4:00 a.m., went downstairs & made myself useful. Did some cleaning then made cupcakes for the Boys School Juniors (will deliver tomorrow) & my BACNC sweet ums (will pair with mini eclairs for the college, baking g-f choc chip cookies for the Theologs). Finally headed back upstairs close to 8:00ish.
It was set present day, except John wasn't in it or mentioned. Alan King requested a business meeting with me, which I found strange, even in the dream. I asked the person relaying the message if he was sure Alan had said ME - yes, he definitely wanted to take a meeting with me.
So, we met, both crisply businesslike but friendly. He explained that the Junge family wanted me to be part of a weekend retreat they were having at a snappy hotel in New York City. Again, I was pretty sure he had me confused with someone else. No, he assured me - the family was hoping I could be part of their retreat. I went.
What a blast! ALL of the Jim Junge family was there - which, if you know the Junges, is pretty darn many - from newborns to Jim, who's tipped 90. Events were planned for all ages, from itty bitties to ancients. All focused around dream building - what is your dream? how can we, individually & as a group, help you catch it? It was clear from everyone I met, especially the youngest, that I'd been included because they experienced my energies as supporting the weekend's mission.
Everywhere I turned, there was a smiling face, happy to see me, happy that I was at that place, at that moment. The hotel staff seemed blissed out - they'd played host to this annual gathering many times before & loved the experience, loved how it affected the staff for weeks afterwards.
There I was, feeling zowied over the sense of it all. And I got what they meant about wanting me there. I wasn't part of the family, but understood & shared a passion for collaborative dream building, whether a small project conjured up by an 8-year old or a massive building project blueprinted by the patriarch. Different degrees, but common ZOW!
It was a total fiction. Yes, the Junges are a large, close-knit clan, but no business NYC retreats (that I know of), no cross-generation dream building/support sessions & shares in a snappy Manhattan hotel.
A total fiction, but in my heart... In my heart, it will always BE. The sense of that place, that moment, those energies, from toddlers to a close-to-centarian, all focused on, "What's your dream? How can I help make it real?" Those energies, goals, best next steps are part & parcel with all I am.
Coolest dream ever? Very possible!
Almost every time I've dreamt, the gist of it slips away between opening my eyes & swinging out of bed. Not this one.
Background
It was impossible to sleep last night. Well, not exactly true. Twice, I'd fallen off & both times John woke me up getting out of bed, which is unusual as I typically could sleep through a massive storm paired with an earthquake. Not this a.m. - eyes wide open. Wasn't stressed or tense or over caffeinated. Just AWAKE. Gave in at 4:00 a.m., went downstairs & made myself useful. Did some cleaning then made cupcakes for the Boys School Juniors (will deliver tomorrow) & my BACNC sweet ums (will pair with mini eclairs for the college, baking g-f choc chip cookies for the Theologs). Finally headed back upstairs close to 8:00ish.
Which was when I had THE DREAM.
It was set present day, except John wasn't in it or mentioned. Alan King requested a business meeting with me, which I found strange, even in the dream. I asked the person relaying the message if he was sure Alan had said ME - yes, he definitely wanted to take a meeting with me.
So, we met, both crisply businesslike but friendly. He explained that the Junge family wanted me to be part of a weekend retreat they were having at a snappy hotel in New York City. Again, I was pretty sure he had me confused with someone else. No, he assured me - the family was hoping I could be part of their retreat. I went.
What a blast! ALL of the Jim Junge family was there - which, if you know the Junges, is pretty darn many - from newborns to Jim, who's tipped 90. Events were planned for all ages, from itty bitties to ancients. All focused around dream building - what is your dream? how can we, individually & as a group, help you catch it? It was clear from everyone I met, especially the youngest, that I'd been included because they experienced my energies as supporting the weekend's mission.
Everywhere I turned, there was a smiling face, happy to see me, happy that I was at that place, at that moment. The hotel staff seemed blissed out - they'd played host to this annual gathering many times before & loved the experience, loved how it affected the staff for weeks afterwards.
There I was, feeling zowied over the sense of it all. And I got what they meant about wanting me there. I wasn't part of the family, but understood & shared a passion for collaborative dream building, whether a small project conjured up by an 8-year old or a massive building project blueprinted by the patriarch. Different degrees, but common ZOW!
It was a total fiction. Yes, the Junges are a large, close-knit clan, but no business NYC retreats (that I know of), no cross-generation dream building/support sessions & shares in a snappy Manhattan hotel.
A total fiction, but in my heart... In my heart, it will always BE. The sense of that place, that moment, those energies, from toddlers to a close-to-centarian, all focused on, "What's your dream? How can I help make it real?" Those energies, goals, best next steps are part & parcel with all I am.
Coolest dream ever? Very possible!
taking my own counsel
A grannie client dreads being bored, having nothing to do. Unfortunately, she currently has trouble reading & has never been much of a crafter, so her way of staying energized is to be with people. Monday is her most dreaded day - nothing to do at night, nowhere to go, no one with whom to chat.
Recently, I helped her see Mondays in a different light, by talking about how our Creator commands us to set aside time when we can distance ourselves from the busy-ness of the world, be contemplative, still. It's commanded because THAT is how we come to experience the Divine. The only way. Not through countless hours of reading & study, not though untold minutes discussing fine points of doctrine.
Be still, and know that I am God.
Everything I shared with her is the gospel truth. We are so commanded - and most of us, including me, don't. Don't even come close. Don't even set aside one night out of seven to pause reflect be. Contemplating rather than considering, meditating instead of pondering.
Time for me to take my own counsel. Time to honor my own sabbath, my own time of handing over the frou-frou of this world & open up to spirit.
Recently, I helped her see Mondays in a different light, by talking about how our Creator commands us to set aside time when we can distance ourselves from the busy-ness of the world, be contemplative, still. It's commanded because THAT is how we come to experience the Divine. The only way. Not through countless hours of reading & study, not though untold minutes discussing fine points of doctrine.
Be still, and know that I am God.
Everything I shared with her is the gospel truth. We are so commanded - and most of us, including me, don't. Don't even come close. Don't even set aside one night out of seven to pause reflect be. Contemplating rather than considering, meditating instead of pondering.
Time for me to take my own counsel. Time to honor my own sabbath, my own time of handing over the frou-frou of this world & open up to spirit.
Monday, December 1, 2014
Newsie post from Peter!
Actually, a posting from Whitney that he sent onto me. Explains why she & Chad moved their family out of the USA, to Australia. Interesting read, learning the background behind their move.
At first, I felt exhilarated - Peter contacted me! Then, it sank in. There are two, maybe three, times Peter has connected with me in the past. 1) if he had something to share about Whitney (strangely, never Reynolds - just Whitney, and later Campbell). 2) In December, his birthday & Christmas, when I guess the absence of family, even a semblance of family, is felt most keenly. A letter about Whitney & Campbell (hooray - with a brief mention of Piper!), arriving December 1? Yep, spot on.
Sounding sceptical about intentions? Experience, longtime experience. And I know he's totally unaware of it. To him, it is genuine outreach. To me, am all too aware that once the birthday is past & the holidays are over, the connection would vanish. Not even cautious anymore - just the sure knowledge it's not what it appears, not what my heart would love for it to be. I've seen his eyes, felt his energies & know there's no there there when it comes to me being real to him.
What feels wonderful is not soaring into a euphoria of "Wow! He's reaching out! Let's get together and (fill in with any one of a number of ecstatic hopes for relationship building)!" nor did I sink into the sorry quagmire of beating myself over the head with Peter just being Peter.
later...
Been a couple hours since reading Peter's letter.
Still amazed at Peter's consistency. Nary a whiff of personal comment - a posting from Whitney, a letter to him from Campbell. His only comments were to buttress - in case I was too slow on the uptake to get it - how brilliant they both are, how gifted & amazing. They both are - and I get it all by my little lonesome, without him having to qualify that she is mega smart (she referred to turning to God when she & Chad needed guidance), as is Campbell (yes, Peter, I did get that she was doing ADVANCED math problems - she called them that - not remedial).
Reminds me of when I graduated from eighth grade. That summer, Mom & Dad & I visited Peter out in Bloomington, IN. The four of us went out to dinner with the totally WOW on every level Ann Crabtree. I ordered filet mignon for dinner - and asked the waiter for ketchup. Peter visibly blanched & made some jesting yet slighting comment. I just looked at him in disbelief - "Peter, I ordered it for my french fries," to which the awesome Ann said, "Oh, I always have it with mine, too. Can I snag a couple of yours?" On the spot, I fell in love with that remarkable woman (from everything I hear, she still is) & realized that Peter pegged me on the same level as Walter Cunningham, who horrifed Scout in To Kill a Mockingbird by pouring syrup all over his meal. "Walter poured syrup on his vegetables and meat with a generous hand. He would probably have poured it into his milk glass had I not asked what the sam hill he was doing."
When Peter asked what the sam hill I was doing, asking for ketchup, my knowledge of his distain for his baby sister was underscored reinforced cemented. At least I was left under no delusions. Still not. He is Peter. Accept & love him as he is, not as I longed for him to be.
John & close friends have known for years - long before Mom died, even before John came into my life - that I was under no misapprehension about Peter's feelings toward me. He had none. He gives me value when I can BE of value to him. No value to him, then there's no ME. Like today's letter. Early December, nothing of personal connection.
My heart says, "Stop by on his 12/15 birthday, bring take-out from Golden Dragon (his beloved chicken szechzuan), bake Mom's Double Chocolate Cake ~ ~ but experience says, "Be happy for what you received, let it be what it is & don't overstep."
In other words, remember the words from West Side Story:
Boy, boy, crazy boy!
Stay loose, boy!
Breeze it, buzz it, easy does it.
Turn off the juice, boy!
Go man, go,
But not like a yo-yo schoolboy.
Just play it cool, boy,
Real cool!
At first, I felt exhilarated - Peter contacted me! Then, it sank in. There are two, maybe three, times Peter has connected with me in the past. 1) if he had something to share about Whitney (strangely, never Reynolds - just Whitney, and later Campbell). 2) In December, his birthday & Christmas, when I guess the absence of family, even a semblance of family, is felt most keenly. A letter about Whitney & Campbell (hooray - with a brief mention of Piper!), arriving December 1? Yep, spot on.
Sounding sceptical about intentions? Experience, longtime experience. And I know he's totally unaware of it. To him, it is genuine outreach. To me, am all too aware that once the birthday is past & the holidays are over, the connection would vanish. Not even cautious anymore - just the sure knowledge it's not what it appears, not what my heart would love for it to be. I've seen his eyes, felt his energies & know there's no there there when it comes to me being real to him.
What feels wonderful is not soaring into a euphoria of "Wow! He's reaching out! Let's get together and (fill in with any one of a number of ecstatic hopes for relationship building)!" nor did I sink into the sorry quagmire of beating myself over the head with Peter just being Peter.
later...
Been a couple hours since reading Peter's letter.
Still amazed at Peter's consistency. Nary a whiff of personal comment - a posting from Whitney, a letter to him from Campbell. His only comments were to buttress - in case I was too slow on the uptake to get it - how brilliant they both are, how gifted & amazing. They both are - and I get it all by my little lonesome, without him having to qualify that she is mega smart (she referred to turning to God when she & Chad needed guidance), as is Campbell (yes, Peter, I did get that she was doing ADVANCED math problems - she called them that - not remedial).
Reminds me of when I graduated from eighth grade. That summer, Mom & Dad & I visited Peter out in Bloomington, IN. The four of us went out to dinner with the totally WOW on every level Ann Crabtree. I ordered filet mignon for dinner - and asked the waiter for ketchup. Peter visibly blanched & made some jesting yet slighting comment. I just looked at him in disbelief - "Peter, I ordered it for my french fries," to which the awesome Ann said, "Oh, I always have it with mine, too. Can I snag a couple of yours?" On the spot, I fell in love with that remarkable woman (from everything I hear, she still is) & realized that Peter pegged me on the same level as Walter Cunningham, who horrifed Scout in To Kill a Mockingbird by pouring syrup all over his meal. "Walter poured syrup on his vegetables and meat with a generous hand. He would probably have poured it into his milk glass had I not asked what the sam hill he was doing."
When Peter asked what the sam hill I was doing, asking for ketchup, my knowledge of his distain for his baby sister was underscored reinforced cemented. At least I was left under no delusions. Still not. He is Peter. Accept & love him as he is, not as I longed for him to be.
John & close friends have known for years - long before Mom died, even before John came into my life - that I was under no misapprehension about Peter's feelings toward me. He had none. He gives me value when I can BE of value to him. No value to him, then there's no ME. Like today's letter. Early December, nothing of personal connection.
My heart says, "Stop by on his 12/15 birthday, bring take-out from Golden Dragon (his beloved chicken szechzuan), bake Mom's Double Chocolate Cake ~ ~ but experience says, "Be happy for what you received, let it be what it is & don't overstep."
In other words, remember the words from West Side Story:
Boy, boy, crazy boy!
Stay loose, boy!
Breeze it, buzz it, easy does it.
Turn off the juice, boy!
Go man, go,
But not like a yo-yo schoolboy.
Just play it cool, boy,
Real cool!
Cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs!
For years, events have been calling our nation to a serious discussion. For years, we've turned away from having one, preferring crazy actions to reasoned, respectful talk. In fact, reason & respect seem to have been thrown out the window over the past six years.
My conservative friends would say that it started farther back, that George W. Bush was disrespected, too. But let's face it - W was laughed at, he wasn't hated & openly disrepected by elected & appointed officials in very public settings. Barack Obama has been. If Bush 43 was considered a joke, Obama is considered by many the anti-Christ.
The recent tragedy in Ferguson, Missouri has become a flash point of anger over a rising tide of events that seem to target the dignities of African-Americans. Stand your ground laws that allow people to kill if they feel threatened, which puts the ultimate white privilege - an expectation it's reasonable to feel threatened by someone because of color - front & center. Voter ID laws that seem to target black voters, ignoring that voter fraud almost always happens in the counting,not the casting. The inability of the courts to convict, often even to indict law enforcement officers who kill black suspects, however outrageous the situation.
The decision to not indict Officer Darren Wilson should not have surprised anyone. The evidence was too iffy, the testimonies too conflicting. It was the only decision they could find, given the realities. Forget the event, hard as that may be. All the came after it was one indignity after another. Leaving the body, uncovered, in the street for four hours - on a summer day. The police bungling from the start, the questionable actions of the prosecutor to the very end. To this outsider, it felt like the powers-that-be in Ferguson were trying to trigger upset in their black community.
What is of interest to me is how people have responded in incredibly inappropriate ways to the whole heart break, from the violence in Ferguson & other communities to Rudy Guiliani's black-on-black crime comments to the St. Louis Rams coming into the stadium with their hands up.
One side can't see the grand jury came to the only possible decision; another side can't see that the rising anger has a justifiable source, laid out in a growing number of indignities that seem to target African-Americans. They lash out from feelings rather than reason, which is dangerous ground to be walking.
In a nutshell, that's the thing that most fascinates me about the past six years. We were once a land of reason & laws; now, Darrell Issa says he has no proof of intentional wrongdoing by IRS officials BUT he knows it in his gut and the press & public don't laugh him out of his chairmanship.
Let's face it - Barack Obama, as African-American as anyone could ever be, was elected & our nation went cuckoo. Republican leaders had a meeting on the very night of his inauguration on how to short-sheet his term; at that same time, Mitch McConnell announced that the GOP's #1 goal was to short-sheet what he hoped to make a 1-term presidency - months after the 2008 economic melt-down, Republican leadership had torpedoing a presidency, not restoring our economy, as their top goal. And that has been how they have acted, both throughout President Obaman's first term & now his second.
The Tea Party made its spectacular debut in the 2010 elections & things in the country have been set on their ear, nowhere more than in the Republican Party, where Tea Party activists "primary" GOP candidates they consider don't come up to their standards of governing.
We've seen Stand Your Ground laws sweep through state legislatures, seen unions openly being busted, seen voter id laws introduced that disenfranchise the old, the poor & students.
The Supreme Court redefined campaign finance reform to mean that corporations have the same freedom of speech as a citizen, with all of the privileges & none of the responsibilities. Corporations can move their headquarters to another country to avoid American tax laws, but still claim incredibly tax right-offs & other $$$ booty funded by American tax payers.
What happened in Ferguson MO & the response to it - on all sides - is just one more sign that the United States of America 2014 has gone cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs!
.
our nation needs to get into a serious discussion, yet one side can't see the grand jury came to the only decision it could, given the evidence & conflicting testimony, while another side can't see the valid anger over a body left in the street for four hours, over a police force that bungled things from the start, over a prosecutor who acted questionably to the end. our country's laws have shifted over the past six years, highlighted by stand your ground & voter id laws that seem to target & lessen the rights of african-americans. if all of us can't at least understand the growing frustration, then our thinking - & compassion - is muddled beyond reason. nothing says how messed up our nation has gotten over race relations than using black-on-black crime to discount the tragedy in ferguson, mo.
My conservative friends would say that it started farther back, that George W. Bush was disrespected, too. But let's face it - W was laughed at, he wasn't hated & openly disrepected by elected & appointed officials in very public settings. Barack Obama has been. If Bush 43 was considered a joke, Obama is considered by many the anti-Christ.
The recent tragedy in Ferguson, Missouri has become a flash point of anger over a rising tide of events that seem to target the dignities of African-Americans. Stand your ground laws that allow people to kill if they feel threatened, which puts the ultimate white privilege - an expectation it's reasonable to feel threatened by someone because of color - front & center. Voter ID laws that seem to target black voters, ignoring that voter fraud almost always happens in the counting,not the casting. The inability of the courts to convict, often even to indict law enforcement officers who kill black suspects, however outrageous the situation.
The decision to not indict Officer Darren Wilson should not have surprised anyone. The evidence was too iffy, the testimonies too conflicting. It was the only decision they could find, given the realities. Forget the event, hard as that may be. All the came after it was one indignity after another. Leaving the body, uncovered, in the street for four hours - on a summer day. The police bungling from the start, the questionable actions of the prosecutor to the very end. To this outsider, it felt like the powers-that-be in Ferguson were trying to trigger upset in their black community.
What is of interest to me is how people have responded in incredibly inappropriate ways to the whole heart break, from the violence in Ferguson & other communities to Rudy Guiliani's black-on-black crime comments to the St. Louis Rams coming into the stadium with their hands up.
One side can't see the grand jury came to the only possible decision; another side can't see that the rising anger has a justifiable source, laid out in a growing number of indignities that seem to target African-Americans. They lash out from feelings rather than reason, which is dangerous ground to be walking.
In a nutshell, that's the thing that most fascinates me about the past six years. We were once a land of reason & laws; now, Darrell Issa says he has no proof of intentional wrongdoing by IRS officials BUT he knows it in his gut and the press & public don't laugh him out of his chairmanship.
Let's face it - Barack Obama, as African-American as anyone could ever be, was elected & our nation went cuckoo. Republican leaders had a meeting on the very night of his inauguration on how to short-sheet his term; at that same time, Mitch McConnell announced that the GOP's #1 goal was to short-sheet what he hoped to make a 1-term presidency - months after the 2008 economic melt-down, Republican leadership had torpedoing a presidency, not restoring our economy, as their top goal. And that has been how they have acted, both throughout President Obaman's first term & now his second.
The Tea Party made its spectacular debut in the 2010 elections & things in the country have been set on their ear, nowhere more than in the Republican Party, where Tea Party activists "primary" GOP candidates they consider don't come up to their standards of governing.
We've seen Stand Your Ground laws sweep through state legislatures, seen unions openly being busted, seen voter id laws introduced that disenfranchise the old, the poor & students.
The Supreme Court redefined campaign finance reform to mean that corporations have the same freedom of speech as a citizen, with all of the privileges & none of the responsibilities. Corporations can move their headquarters to another country to avoid American tax laws, but still claim incredibly tax right-offs & other $$$ booty funded by American tax payers.
What happened in Ferguson MO & the response to it - on all sides - is just one more sign that the United States of America 2014 has gone cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs!
.
our nation needs to get into a serious discussion, yet one side can't see the grand jury came to the only decision it could, given the evidence & conflicting testimony, while another side can't see the valid anger over a body left in the street for four hours, over a police force that bungled things from the start, over a prosecutor who acted questionably to the end. our country's laws have shifted over the past six years, highlighted by stand your ground & voter id laws that seem to target & lessen the rights of african-americans. if all of us can't at least understand the growing frustration, then our thinking - & compassion - is muddled beyond reason. nothing says how messed up our nation has gotten over race relations than using black-on-black crime to discount the tragedy in ferguson, mo.
Friday, November 28, 2014
Relationship super stars!
Eunice & Wayne ~ Dave & Candy ~ Jane ~ Hilary ~ Gwen ~ Adrienne - - seven relationship super stars! Seven people I hold in my heart as having the gift of creating connection with others.
I've always & forever loved relationships. And I appreciate being born with that joy already tucked in my heart & infused throughout my being. Am blessed to have connection with these seven - and others, to be sure - who so embody it, albeit in different ways.
Guess it's Thanksgiving, reveling in the glory of having breakfasted yesterday with Anne Davis Hyatt AND David Wylie AND John, then connecting Anne with her son Wayne at our little hometown's big Thanksgiving church service, then whisking her off on a drive between church & nip into Warminster West (where familiar, friendly faces greeted her with smiles) for a smackeral to tide her over until we delivered her to a family dinner at Justin & Jody's for their T-day family dinner, then having our own Thanksgiving feast with the Cavanaugh family plus three (Karen's mom, the two of us) which is always filled with great times & fabulous food. My life is filled with so many wonderful people, connected to my heart in big & small ways, each a treasure to be appreciated & savored.
One more relationship super star to add to the list - Diana Glenn Peterson. No one better to write about on Black Friday, a day she enjoyed to the hilt! Black Friday shopping has always left me cold - not Diana! She loved every crazy moment, had all sorts of traditions around it. What a rare talent she had for drawing people in & drawing people out. It's been two years since she moved forward, but the pang of missing her still pierces my heart. Always will, in its bittersweet way.
So blessed to have such a constellation of super stars in my life!
I've always & forever loved relationships. And I appreciate being born with that joy already tucked in my heart & infused throughout my being. Am blessed to have connection with these seven - and others, to be sure - who so embody it, albeit in different ways.
Guess it's Thanksgiving, reveling in the glory of having breakfasted yesterday with Anne Davis Hyatt AND David Wylie AND John, then connecting Anne with her son Wayne at our little hometown's big Thanksgiving church service, then whisking her off on a drive between church & nip into Warminster West (where familiar, friendly faces greeted her with smiles) for a smackeral to tide her over until we delivered her to a family dinner at Justin & Jody's for their T-day family dinner, then having our own Thanksgiving feast with the Cavanaugh family plus three (Karen's mom, the two of us) which is always filled with great times & fabulous food. My life is filled with so many wonderful people, connected to my heart in big & small ways, each a treasure to be appreciated & savored.
One more relationship super star to add to the list - Diana Glenn Peterson. No one better to write about on Black Friday, a day she enjoyed to the hilt! Black Friday shopping has always left me cold - not Diana! She loved every crazy moment, had all sorts of traditions around it. What a rare talent she had for drawing people in & drawing people out. It's been two years since she moved forward, but the pang of missing her still pierces my heart. Always will, in its bittersweet way.
So blessed to have such a constellation of super stars in my life!
Thursday, November 27, 2014
To Muriel, with thanks
Thanksgiving - a day
forever entwined with gratitude & relationship, especially family
relationships. Perhaps it's not so unusual for my thoughts to turn to
my birth family on this particular day. Turned to, without even a sense
of wistful regret, just - gratitude.
Yesterday was a dreary, dreadful day, twisting this way & that way between nasty rain & flat out snow (enough for several inches precipitation). The perfect day to send my sister a pair of fluffy warm sockets in bright pinks & blues & polka dots, the toes of one pair sporting a pin proclaiming, "I dream of a world where a chicken can cross the road without its motives being questioned." Only note a quick scrawl on the back of the envelope explaining the contents seemed advisable in such wretched weather.
I have, perched next to me, a 9/14/14 Philadelphia Inquirer article about proposed renovations to the Harold F. Pitcairn Wings of Freedom Air Museum at the former Willow Grove Naval Air Station. Unlike the socks sent to Mim, I've never mailed to the article to Peter, even though it's sure to be of interest to him.
Today, it came to me why it is wise & good & possible to have a light-touch connection with my sister, but not a similar "via U.S. mail" relationship with my older brother. In all my experiences with Mim, she has made it clear (literally) that she has no affection for me, that I am more likely to irritate the daylights out of her than not & I am, to her, the human equivalent of fingernails raking across a chalk board. For all of that, she has never, not once, made it clear or even given the impression that she doesn't consider me her sister. Peter has. Not once, but twice - well, there were plenty of other times, too, but they could be explained away by a hopeful heart.
And it wasn't the words he used that awakened me to a truth that was already lodged in my deep consciousness. On both occasions, it was his eyes that revealed the utterness of his distance from me. Both times, the information didn't engulf me as grief or sadness or even regret, just gratitude that what I'd long felt was confirmed. There was, there is no me in his life.
How could I feel a sense of gratitude because my oldest brother has no sense of me as a sibling? Because dealing with stunning family dynamics, of which Peter's (and Kerry's) are the most extreme but certainly not the most intriguing, left me with 1) a profound love & respect for relationship in general, not just family ties ~and~ 2) a respect for the wild ways of family relationships, something that stands me in excellent stead working with grannie clients & their families. As rough & rocky as those relationships can get, they do so because they exist. That's worth honoring. In the rare instances where - like my brother with me - there is a total yet unacknowledged un-ness, I can respect & honor that too, not trying to understand or heal, but letting it be what it is in its own perverse whole.
Today, Thanksgiving 2014, I give myself permission to stop feeling a call to reach out to Peter. It would be more than false, it would be a travesty. I respect relationship too much to succumb to the siren call of being the sister he doesn't, in the sinew of his being, accept as existing.
Am left with a remarkable sense of gratitude that something so unexpected as experiencing Maggie Smith's character in The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel lead me to such an unexpected epiphany Something terribly sad happened to Muriel Donnelly, something that turned her bitter & angry & isolated. She'd given her all to people she loved who placed no value to her care & loyalty & love. No one was more surprised than she when it turned out that all the care she'd given & the great lengths she'd gone to were exactly what she needed to change her life - and countless others - to fabulous. If everything hadn't happened as it did, as harsh & heartbreaking as it was, she would not been in the right place at the right time with the right background & skills.
I expected a lovely Thanksgiving snuggle & movie night with my O Best Beloved. What I ended up with was a shout-from-the-roof-tops sense of gratitude to all that has been & all that is & all that is to come. And indescribable happiness at mailing off a pair of fluff with a chicken quote!
Yesterday was a dreary, dreadful day, twisting this way & that way between nasty rain & flat out snow (enough for several inches precipitation). The perfect day to send my sister a pair of fluffy warm sockets in bright pinks & blues & polka dots, the toes of one pair sporting a pin proclaiming, "I dream of a world where a chicken can cross the road without its motives being questioned." Only note a quick scrawl on the back of the envelope explaining the contents seemed advisable in such wretched weather.
I have, perched next to me, a 9/14/14 Philadelphia Inquirer article about proposed renovations to the Harold F. Pitcairn Wings of Freedom Air Museum at the former Willow Grove Naval Air Station. Unlike the socks sent to Mim, I've never mailed to the article to Peter, even though it's sure to be of interest to him.
Today, it came to me why it is wise & good & possible to have a light-touch connection with my sister, but not a similar "via U.S. mail" relationship with my older brother. In all my experiences with Mim, she has made it clear (literally) that she has no affection for me, that I am more likely to irritate the daylights out of her than not & I am, to her, the human equivalent of fingernails raking across a chalk board. For all of that, she has never, not once, made it clear or even given the impression that she doesn't consider me her sister. Peter has. Not once, but twice - well, there were plenty of other times, too, but they could be explained away by a hopeful heart.
And it wasn't the words he used that awakened me to a truth that was already lodged in my deep consciousness. On both occasions, it was his eyes that revealed the utterness of his distance from me. Both times, the information didn't engulf me as grief or sadness or even regret, just gratitude that what I'd long felt was confirmed. There was, there is no me in his life.
How could I feel a sense of gratitude because my oldest brother has no sense of me as a sibling? Because dealing with stunning family dynamics, of which Peter's (and Kerry's) are the most extreme but certainly not the most intriguing, left me with 1) a profound love & respect for relationship in general, not just family ties ~and~ 2) a respect for the wild ways of family relationships, something that stands me in excellent stead working with grannie clients & their families. As rough & rocky as those relationships can get, they do so because they exist. That's worth honoring. In the rare instances where - like my brother with me - there is a total yet unacknowledged un-ness, I can respect & honor that too, not trying to understand or heal, but letting it be what it is in its own perverse whole.
Today, Thanksgiving 2014, I give myself permission to stop feeling a call to reach out to Peter. It would be more than false, it would be a travesty. I respect relationship too much to succumb to the siren call of being the sister he doesn't, in the sinew of his being, accept as existing.
Am left with a remarkable sense of gratitude that something so unexpected as experiencing Maggie Smith's character in The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel lead me to such an unexpected epiphany Something terribly sad happened to Muriel Donnelly, something that turned her bitter & angry & isolated. She'd given her all to people she loved who placed no value to her care & loyalty & love. No one was more surprised than she when it turned out that all the care she'd given & the great lengths she'd gone to were exactly what she needed to change her life - and countless others - to fabulous. If everything hadn't happened as it did, as harsh & heartbreaking as it was, she would not been in the right place at the right time with the right background & skills.
I expected a lovely Thanksgiving snuggle & movie night with my O Best Beloved. What I ended up with was a shout-from-the-roof-tops sense of gratitude to all that has been & all that is & all that is to come. And indescribable happiness at mailing off a pair of fluff with a chicken quote!
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