Tuesday, July 30, 2013

Finding the Frosting

Today was the day my mother came home from her trip to Virginia, the trip where she said goodbye to her mother. The trip where she watched the men in her family united to hoist a casket on their shoulders and carry a body that had once carried them. 

As I sat across from my mom, having lunch after picking her up at the airport, I found myself studying her face; memorizing the color-flecks in her blue eyes; taking mental snapshots of her smile; wishing I would never, ever have to think about saying my own good-byes to the woman I call Mama. 

I know that, in reality, we all have to say good-bye to the parents who raised us. We all face the eventuality of becoming orphaned, no matter how old or young we are. But if we're lucky, if we're blessed, we have memories to carry with us of the little things that made them special––the smell of the perfume that they wore, the sound of their laughter, the feel of the calluses on their hands. We find those memories sometimes in the most unexpected places––like the odd whiff of a flower that always adorned the kitchen table; or finding the last splatter of frosting, caked and dried while the very last batch of cakes were baked. They are sweet reminders of what once was, of the moments we were given as gifts, of the time we should treasure and savor

Wednesday, July 24, 2013

Saying Goodbye

A couple of months ago, I was asked to do something that I never thought I'd have to do...write my grandmother's obituary. I agreed, because my grandfather had asked, and he's never asked anything of me. I felt like it was the one thing that I could give to them, to show how much they meant to me. 

So I said yes. I didn't know where to start, and I really didn't know if I was ever really going to be able to do her justice. 

I was relieved when she started showing great signs of improvement before I could actually start writing, and I allowed myself to believe that I was somehow going to escape the task. Somehow, I allowed myself to believe that maybe she would be around forever. Maybe she would be herself again one day. 

Maybe.

Maybe didn't happen, and she started to go back downhill. So again I was asked to write her obituary, but this time I knew I would have to see it through to completion. So I wrote it, with every ounce of emotional energy I could focus, hoping that I would be able to capture her, to convey the love and the spirit of my grandmother. It was so hard to reduce her existence to such a small space of words, to confine what she meant to so many people in such a tiny boxed space. To boil her down to black and white print when she had always been such a vibrant woman.

She was truly a beautiful woman, even though she never felt it. She was my Grammie, and I hope that I  paid her proper tribute.

I'll always love you, Ricki Lindstrom. 



Friday, July 19, 2013

Fun in the Fall

It might night be fall just yet, but it's creeping closer and closer...Which means the leaves on the trees will be changing their colors and parading their autumn allure. But who says you have to wait to enjoy all the natural beauty around you? Whether it's August, October, or April, get out and explore all the glorious colors and shapes in the gardens, parks, and forests––and keep a catalogue of your treasured trees in the pages of Fall Walk

This hardcover children's book by Virginia Brimhall Snow (Gibbs Smith, $16.99, Ages 4 to 8, August 2013, ISBN: 978-1-4236-3261-0) is filled with beautifully illustrated pictures and a fun narrative of an exploration through the wonderful woods, showing identifying characteristics of 24 different types of leaves and giving easy, helpful instructions on pressing and rubbing leaves. 

Make it a family activity and see who can find the most different kinds of leaves...just remember to stay out of the itchy stuff! www.gibbs-smith.com





Thursday, July 4, 2013

Fizzled, Drizzled, Fireworks

It's a gloomy 4th of July here where I live in the panhandle of Florida, the rain that saturated us earlier this morning having subsided for the time being. But still, it's an overcast day, the sky heavy with the possibility of more rain. This is Florida, though, and the weather here is as unpredictable as an unmedicated manic depressive...which means I could look out the window five minutes from now and be staring at sunny skies. Whatever the case may be, I'm sitting here in my booth at my favorite haunt, chugging coffee and wondering (in between working on writing assignments) what the very first Fourth of July looked like. Was is sunny? Was it threatening rain? It was a day of triumph, but did the weatherman's forecast reflect the optimistic future of a new country?

I always find it amazing how much the weather impacts my mood. I can't help but feel slightly melancholy on days like this, even though this is supposed to be one of those wickedly celebratory days on the calendar. Still, I have reason to celebrate. I live in a free country where I can pray and worship without worry, have an independent life and make decisions for myself even though I'm a woman, and savor the flavor of a good cup of coffee while I work to make a life for myself doing something I love. The weather outside may be gloomy, but I still have time to write a happy ending to this Independence Day. 

Maybe I'll even write a wish in the sky with sparklers.