Is this thing on?

Every night when H is done reading I hear the book hit the floor with a thud, the snap of her bedside light switching off, then she calls to me, "Goodnight, Mommy; I love you!" I reply, "I love you, H; goodnight!" because palindromes amuse me.

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Last month I looked up something I wrote about Handel's Messiah because I wanted to share it with the music director who orchestrated (heh) the whole thing. She's being treated for cancer that's come back and metastasized and could use all cheerful distraction and reminiscing she can get.

Tonight I was reading through the fat binder full of pages I wrote while in college, mostly, and ran across a few things about my then 8 yr old cousin that I texted to that cousin who is now in his 20s.

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If I like reading back over things I've written then I should write.

heartfelt

"I feel unappreciated and invisible. It was a terrible day!"

She burst into tears and collapsed onto the floor of her room.

I sunk down to my knees beside her and began rubbing her back. "I'm sorry, sweetie."

It hadn't been a great day for me either.

"I love you and appreciate you so much. I'm sorry for not showing it today."

I invited her to lay with me, there on the floor. She cried as I continued rubbing her back until her breaths returned to normal. She lay quietly, head on my arm.

I thought about her toddler days and younger, when just my presence was enough to fix all her problems. It's more complicated than that now. In fact, my presence sometimes creates additional problems.

Tonight our hearts met again, after being separated by the day's stress. When we each bring our fully-present presence I think the problems go away, even for just a little bit.

To know and be known is a lovely reality.

Time Travel

The pianist strikes the opening chord and words appear on the overhead screen. My breath catches; my heart swells; tears of recognition sting my eyes. 

This song is a portal to a place in time past—a place cemented in my mind. The place is unchanging as time pulls me farther and farther away. This is a place where my grandpa plays the piano in a little chapel amidst the pine trees. He plays for the sheer joy of it—all alone except for the audience of his God. Except I’m there too, drawn by the notes rising through the mountain morning air, but he doesn’t see me. Grandpa’s presence, especially Grandpa’s presence at the piano, seems as constant as the stars. It is no trouble at all for me to recall the words to the melodies he plays in his boisterous way. They come as naturally as the names of any of my boisterous family members. Those same family members sing every time we gather no matter the occasion. My past self sneaks in to listen. I am in college and possess all the vitality and curiosity of a young adult unsure of her future and simultaneously excited for it to arrive.

And now it has arrived. I stand among hundreds of women on a Monday night, in this future. We sing the familiar words and that is all it takes for me to be transported back in time through the portal of an unassuming hymn. Ambushed by the music, I’m powerless to stop the tears as they well up and roll down my face. Here I am, standing next to my daughter in this good future, marveling at the path I took to get here and grateful for the blessings generously strewn along the way. I look back on my past self with wistful tenderness. I ask her to hug Grandpa, to sit a minute longer in the back of that little chapel, receiving that timeless truth sent ahead to me by the song’s author and strengthened by those who entrusted it to me by repeating it often enough that I can sing it entirely from memory.

I carry the song forward into the future again. I look down at the blonde head of my daughter as she sings. I wonder, will it one day transport her as it did me?

I can’t read the future but I can sing the song and hope. 

I know not why God’s wondrous grace to me he hath made known, nor why, unworthy, Christ in love, redeemed me for His own. But I know Whom I have believed, and am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I’ve committed unto Him against that day.

Short-term

You know what I hate? Well I'll tell you.

I hate it when some well-meaning friendly friend of mine asks something like, "so what'd you do today?" or "do you have anything going on this weekend?" or "how was the weekend? anything fun?"

I am the worst at providing any sort of truthful answer on the spot. I wrack my brain and come up with nothing at all. Complete blank. Sometimes I will actually have to check my calendar. I usually just say something like, "oh nothing much" or "not really" and then 30 minutes later I remember that we actually went to a water park or celebrated someone's birthday or something else that's totally small-talk worthy.

Case in point: today the chiropractor asked our family, "so what's new?" as he began adjusting Elaine. (Kids adjusted for free! Love our chiropractor!) I, of course, could think of nothing new and gave some lame reply. I think he then asked one of the girls what they did today. They said they didn't know so Superman began giving them hints and I was honestly guessing right along with them. What! Tell me what I did! I have no idea! Turns out I took them to swimming lessons AND Val got her ribbon for backstroke.

Why do I forget things as soon as they've happened?

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Tonight on the drive home from dropping Superman off at work I speculated reasons why writing in my hand-written journal has dropped off considerably. I think the last entry may have been in June.

I think it's because it would take "too much time." So I don't write anything at all.

Pity, that.

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Today we took a family trip to Starbucks and I attempted to sketch Superman's face as he studied his iPad. I no longer felt like knitting (I always stop the project and procrastinate for a while when it's time to switch to double-pointed needles to work a decrease) so I picked up one of the girls' colored pencils and went to work. It turned out far better than I expected. I'm even half-way inspired to take a drawing class and see if it remains fun.

Loss

"Dogs are not our whole life, but they make our lives whole." - Roger Caras

My sister's dog, Shadow, died unexpectedly last night. She wasn't really herself most of the afternoon, just laying down and not caring about everything she usually cares about. My sister got home from work and Shadow passed away about fifteen minutes later. That fact alone is enough to get me teary-eyed. She waited to die until she could say goodbye to my sister and until she could be with her.

She wasn't young (almost 11) but she wasn't sick (that we knew of) either, so this was quite sudden and quite a shock.

R.I.P. Sweet Shadow-dog. I'll miss your endless, bouncing, cheerful optimism.

Just N case

The Myers-Briggs Type Inventory describes the difference between sensing (S) and intuitive (N) types here. Briefly, S types are prone to pay closer attention to what is physically happening around them. N types are much less prone to pay attention to what is literally happening around them and focus their energy on ideas, concepts and possibilities instead.

I'd be willing to bet five whole dollars that my great-grandfather was the intuitive type. Here is the evidence on which I base my assertion. My mother's mother tells a story in which her father (uncharacteristically) ran a red light. He was then promptly pulled over and issued a citation. The officer said something to the effect of, "what happened?" and my great-grandfather replied thoughtfully, "well... I was just thinking about Moses..." It became a great family joke.

I have not run a red light in such a manner. I have, however, waited for a stop sign to turn green, turned on the wrong street, taken the wrong off-ramp, driven miles past my turn or exit and most recently and horrifyingly blew right through a stop sign in. a. school. zone. It was a three-way stop and thank GOD there were no children present. There weren't any cars, either, and were it not for a lady walking within view of the intersection who expressively threw up her arms and gave me a look that said, "WTF are you thinking?" as I passed, I might never have realized. I noticed her, furrowed my brow in thought, considered possible reasons for her actions, looked around to see if she was communicating with anyone else, and OMG THAT WAS A STOP SIGN AND I DIDN'T EVEN SLOW DOWN.

I was absolutely appalled at myself and more than a little nauseous at what might have happened if circumstances were different. Completely horrifying.

It's one thing to drive while distracted by a phone or iPod or the food in your lap or while reaching for something behind the passenger seat. Those things are fairly easy to self-regulate. But to be distracted by your very own brain?! How can I escape that? It often takes quite a bit of conscious effort (or small children) for me to actively remain in the present moment. And when I am, I'm often immediately bored and my mind wanders off to find something more entertaining to ponder. I go on auto-pilot and though I may look "there" I might not be. I'm almost always thinking about completely unrelated things in addition to whatever thing or task currently has some of my attention and focus. My strongly S-type husband is frequently baffled by my honest replies to his, "what are you thinking about?" He can't understand how or why I'd be thinking about _____ or what would cause me to remember _____. I shrug. I don't know either. It's just what I do.

Except I've got to find a way that ensures I will NOT do it as much while driving. Suggestions?

Lady Marion

I was visiting with my grandma on the phone the other day and she said this,

"I went to a birthday party of a lady who turned 104. She goes dancing every Friday night. She outlived three husbands and after the third one died she said she just didn't feel like getting married any more."

BadgerBadgerBadgerBadgerBader

My cousin keeps a few rosy boas as pets. Every time we visit, the girls ask to see/touch/hold them. Today when he took one of the smaller ones out of its cage Elaine's response was, "awwwwwww!" in the same tone she uses for babies. This makes me unreasonably happy.

Music

Val wakes up early and cheerfully. Elaine and I wake up slowly and are prone to grouchiness.

This morning Val stood by my pillow and whispered, "Mommy! I heard someone playing beautiful music."

I hadn't heard anything (though I'm sure she had) and because I'm only slightly better at controlling my grouchiness than Elaine, I asked Val about the music. She sang a little of it for me and then concluded, "It's nice to hear music in the morning, Mommy."

I agreed and asked what her favorite kind of music was, hoping she'd talk for a while and I could eke out a few more minutes of sleep. Her reply was prompt and her request, sincere.

"Amazing Grace. Mommy, will you play that for me while I eat breakfast?"

And that's why I was playing and singing Amazing Grace for an audience of one (and then a grouchy second one) at 6:30 am.

As my sleepy brain directed my hands in a clunky version of the hymn, my heart suddenly smiled to recall the countless times I awoke to the sound of my grandpa playing beautiful music during the early morning hours of my college years.

Val doesn't remember her great-grandpa but I'm so glad they share the belief that it's nice to hear music in the morning.

Birthday sushi

As soon as Val got back from having her first cavity ever filled (I feel like such an awful mom) I went out and bought loads of candy to make this: candy sushi.

Not only is it Dr. Seuss's birthday today, it's also my lovely sister in law's 24th birthday! We celebrated at my parents' house with a delicious spaghetti dinner. After dinner a family friend (she's known me my entire life!) came over to teach us how to make SUSHI! This was just as amazing as I thought it would be and sooooooo delicious. It was so much fun. I think sushi parties will definitely be in our future.

Here's a link to some pictures (taken by me, my brother and my SIL): enjoy! (We sure did!)

Sunol Regional Wilderness

I climbed a tree while wearing shoes today. It was awkward. Definitely not my preference.

Do you have a place you go when your soul needs to rejuvenate? I do. I went there, today, with my kids and cousin and sister and her dog.

I honestly can't tell you the names of all the roads if you were to ask for directions to this regional park, but my heart knows the way. I've been going there since well before I knew how to drive. I think almost all my dogs have been. It would be strange and highly unusual to go without a dog.

As I get closer, my heart swells with the anticipation of soaking in the glory of nature and resting in the solitude. It's similar to the feeling I got most days after college as I topped the hill on MacArthur Blvd and got that first glimpse of the ocean - that gorgeous, glittering expanse stretching away beneath me. It's about that time I'd call my mom to gloat. She knows the feeling, too. She went to that exact beach (it happens to be SAJ's beach, as well!) very frequently - nearly every day during the summers of her teen years, and countless times since.

Racing to the water!

No cell service.

Oak trees are my favorite.

What cousins are for.

Looking back...

Time for a snack and a rest.

Wintertime!

Brief Mommy & daughter side trail exploration.

Playing under the oak trees.

In which we are all doing weird things with our arms.

Needed a book. And a few more hours.

Heading back.

I highly recommend these two for all your child transportation needs.

I've crossed this bridge myself, when I wasn't much older than Val is now.

The next time you hear me whining about how much hair I continue to lose due to anemia and OMG I'm going to be BALD (yes, I'm embarrassed to admit I've done this - it's HANDFULS and HANDFULS of hair! All the time!), please feel free to roll your eyes and direct my attention to this photo. Yes, my hair is thinner than it has been, but fortunately, it can stand to be thinned.

This was during part of our tick check.

Not bad for the dead of winter, eh? It's good to be a California native, especially on days like today.