Monday, December 31, 2012

A Milestone...

Magick NumberSixteen years ago I was holding this precious child in my arms as I drifted in and out of sleep. She was warm and took such small breaths that I would watch to be sure she was still with me. The pregnancy had been filled with the worst of emotions and the saddest of thoughts. Out of all of my pregnancies, this was the most stressful physically, emotionally, and spiritually. I made decisions and went back on them. Then I doubted myself and the final decision.

Brianna was born in a rush of tears and heartache. I was afraid I'd look at her and feel nothing at all. Instead, the nurse laid this tiny being on my chest and asked if I wanted to cut her cord. I couldn't even speak for the Love that suddenly overwhelmed all my senses. All my fears fell away as I looked into her face. I felt that she touched my very soul at that moment.

Now there is this young woman who stands eye to eye with me growing everyday into the adult woman she will become. I fear some of her choices. I lose sleep over some of her actions. I've cried and lamented over the things she has done.

I have not regretted one single moment. Not one.

Beautiful girlAs time passes I'm more and more proud of her actions. I'm hopeful for her future. I am filled with the Love she has brought to my life. Above all, I am filled with gratitude that she is part of my life.

Friday, December 21, 2012

Spinning of time

Day twelveTime spins in such a strange fashion lately. Days go by with barely a thought while moments stand out sharply, filling my mind with detail. For example, I can recall the texture, taste, aroma, and emotions that I experienced when I baked a cheesecake in my new springform pan (a gift last weekend), and yet, the knowledge that it was last weekend feels strange.

I have no profound words on this blustery morning. No pearls of wisdom. Only the thought that time is spiraling faster and faster and yet seems to be going nowhere at all. I wonder if this feeling has been experienced by humans since the beginning of our existence. I wonder if these thoughts are only a recycling of the contemplations of our ancestors.

It is certainly possible.

On this day, commonly celebrated by some to be the shortest day, I will be thinking about the people in my life (past and present) and will hold them in my heart for the greatest good.  May they all be blessed.


Tuesday, December 18, 2012

A Milestone

They're taking over!Today I am a mother of a twenty-one year old. That feels so strange to type out, even though I have known it was coming. And fast.

I think back at the days before he made the choice to go into the Marines and the tension in the house was enough to choke on. There were days when I was ready to ask Kevin to take this kid out of my house because I wanted to throttle him. So many times it was Kevin's advice and clear-headed thinking that got us through those times. I never did have my son go stay with someone else, and I think it was the knowledge that I could, if it got too bad.

Don't get me wrong, there were other days when we'd be awake long into the night talking about philosophy, religion, politics, life, and more. There were days when the laughter rang out through the house and filled it with sunshine. Those, truly, are the days I focus on the most.

Great smile!Do I think he's now a man simply because he reached an age? No. Quite simply, my son took many steps to becoming a man. One of the most significant ones was in early December, 2009. This crazy-haired kid with the chains on his pants asked me to sign the papers giving him permission to join the Corps before his birthday. Even with all of the fears I had, with all the doubts, I knew, above all else, that I was proud of this young man.

Do I still think about the little boy that he once was? Of course! There is no way not to. But mostly I think about the future that is filled with possibilities for this wonderful young man. And I smile, even through the bittersweet tears of my heart.

Saturday, December 08, 2012

Memories and memories

RootsThe last two days have been filled with memories of events in my life. And they haunt me still and make me wonder what happened to those days. And what will happen in the future.

Yesterday... twenty-six years ago I was home alone and heard a knock on the door. I wasn't supposed to answer the door, even at the age of sixteen, but I knew it was important. So I did. It was the mailman with the certificate from the department of education saying that I'd passed my GED. I was thrilled! And was sitting in a college classroom in January. That first semester was amazing! I had to take several prerequisites and most of them were my choice. Ancient Religions and Mythology, Interpersonal Communications, and Psychology 101. I loved them all. I met people who were shocked that I was so young, and others who didn't seem to care. I got an A++ on the first essay I'd ever written (about the correlation of the religious stories told around the world). People read my poetry and gave me criticisms and praises in equal measure. I even had something put into the campus newsletter.

It was  a heady time for me and I felt like I was right where I belonged. I excelled that first semester and soaked everything up like a sponge. It wasn't until later, when I took the classes I was told to take, that I began to see college as a chore. I cared nothing for CAD (computer-aided drafting), BASIC, or COBOL. I trudged through those classes, finishing the assignments and still getting good grades, but the sparkle had gone from the world. That hurt, but I thought it was just how things were supposed to be.

Today... thirty-two years ago, I watched my mother's face drain of color when there was a news story on the radio. Someone very important to her, and therefore to me, had just been shot. Then, what seemed like an eon later, was pronounced dead. I don't remember anyone else in the room when that news came across the air, but I remember that my mom just sat there with tears coursing down her face, unchecked. She made no sobbing noises, but there was such a feel of sorrow to her that I wanted to take it all away.

I knew who John Lennon was, of course. My mother sang his songs to me while she played her guitar. She told me about how Imagine was on the radio while she was pregnant with me. And how he strove for peace during the troubled times we lived in. I knew he was more important to us than the president (yes, judge if you will, that's what I believed at the time.)

Tomorrow... Brianna and I picked out a tree yesterday and laughed as we tried to keep it upright. It was only after we got it home that we realized that the trunk was crooked and the whole thing was unbalanced. But we enjoyed the attempts to secure it in the base, and the moment when we realized that there weren't enough lights to really do the tree justice, and the time spent deciding where the ornaments should be placed.

And I wonder what memories will be carried forward into her adulthood. What will she look back on and smile? Or cry? Will she see me as I'd like her to see me? Or will time paint a different picture? And how will Anthony remember me to his children? Will he think I was a great woman? Or just someone who did what she had to do? Will they see their childhoods filled with magic? Or will they see them as filled with struggle?

I won't know, of course. All I can really hope is that I am there, sharing those memories with them. Sharing the laughter, and the solemn moments.

Thursday, December 06, 2012


Some of the windows have their plastic in place (the others are newer and don't need it), the snow shovels and bucket of salt are in the entry, the back porch is cleared off for easier shoveling, and the furnace filter is cleaned. The house is about as winterized as it's going to be.

As for myself, my pens are refilled, my notebook is close to my desk, my textbooks are ready to be read, and my candles are blessed and ready for lighting. I plan to use these longer nights to think, to meditate, to dream, to plan, to rest before the light.

I had an interesting thing happen the other day... I heard a line in a song ("You've seen this all before, life left on the shore") and I had an image come to mind. Not one of me standing on a shore, but on a mountain with clouds coming up the edge of the earth on which I stood. Instead of wanting to dive into the water I knew I wanted to leap off and fly. I know that might sound strange to those who know that I really don't like being in a plane, but it was completely different. I wanted to take that last step and know that I was able to ride the winds, soar closer to the sun and moon, spin around, drop like a hailstone, then swoop back up in a steady and peaceful flight. All with my own wings knowing that I was filled with the infinite possibilities of the Universe.

There is something holding me back, and I plan to use my pondering and journaling to figure out what it is and the best way to get past it. And I will. Or, I will learn that it's just something that I can't figure out and I will get past it anyway. Regardless, I will fly.