Life is busy. We make life busy. We're like little hummingbirds beating our wings a million miles per hour in order to get as much nectar as we can out of life. We're so full sometimes we have trouble supporting our weight when we do slow down enough to lite upon a branch.
Do slow down though. Sit still and listen. Become acutely aware of a little creature's buzzing--the sound of tiny, iridescent wings beating near. She's too near, actually, but be so still she is not afraid to come closer. Sit very still and watch her hover like a miniature-sized helicopter as she contemplates which Geranium blossom to explore. Don't even breath as she gracefully moves to others eager for her kiss. If you are statuesque, she will catch your stare and she will turn to gaze at you quizzically--but only for a slight moment. She has other rainbow-colored florets to befriend. Stifle your surprise when her stealthy mate suddenly Red Barons her. Hold back your laugh as she angrily scolds him until he flees.
Slow down. Be still. Listen. Enjoy. Life is busily happening all around you. Don't miss it!
Love,
~Mama
Showing posts with label For Realz. Show all posts
Showing posts with label For Realz. Show all posts
Monday, June 2, 2014
Sunday, September 29, 2013
My Grammy's Hands
Something extraordinary happened to me yesterday--something I cannot explain, but something very real. I saw my grandmother's hand in place of my own.
I was peeling Granny Smiths for an apple crisp. For some reason, my grandmother was on my mind; I mean really on my mind. I remember thinking, "Geez, Gram, you must be thinking about me because I am thinking about you." My right hand began to hurt like hell after peeling only a couple of apples and I thought I was going to have to stop, that I was not going to be able to make apple crisp. It was an important part of a get-together meal I was working on, so I determined I was going to peel eight pounds of apples in spite of the pain. At one point the stiffness became so uncomfortable I couldn't help but think about the arthritic pain Gram endured for years. It was then that I looked down at my hand and, for a split second, saw my Grammy's hand in place of my own. I felt comforted. Fond memories of her in the kitchen made me forget my gimpy hand and before long smell of the the crisp filled the house.
Grandparents are a gift. I was very, very lucky to have live grandparents. Between the ages of 5 and 15, even though we lived on opposite sides of the United States (military deployment), my grandparents were a constant presence in my life. My brother and I received countless phone calls, cards, and letters. Gram used to end her phone calls by reminding me, "I have you and your brother with me in a picture on my night stand. Every night I give you a kiss goodnight." Once, when I was 12, my grandparents flew from Maine to San Diego to visit us. I recall my Gram and I sitting on the floor beside the sliding glass door to the backyard playing numerous games of jacks. My Gramp and Dad took Craig and I to see a Padres baseball game. We all toured the USS Independence together. When I was 15, we moved from Washington State back to Maine. We lived with my grandparents in Waterville for several months while my dad looked for work. After we moved to Topsham, we regularly visited my grandparents for a Sunday meal, or for a family gathering with my uncle, aunt and cousins at Reid State Park beach. Gramp always had a whiskey and water in hand and a smile on his face as he observed his family's goings-on. What amazing memories! When I graduated from high school, I move away to college and, unfortunately, I saw my grandparents much less frequently. I later joined the military and moved out of state. I visited them the few times I came home, but by that time, Gram developed Alzheimer's and communication became difficult. I am not the type to live with regret, but there is one thing I would willingly turn back the clock for: more time with my Gram and Gramp.
One moment you can be incredibly fortunate to have your grandparents in your life. The next moment they are gone. It is then, all you have are memories...and a longing to make more. I implore you to reach out to your grandparents more, kiddos. A simple phone call will completely make their day. The sound of your voice will bring a flood of pleasant memories and hours of discussion and reminiscing. The older I get, the more I realize my parents appreciate nothing more than my time. I also realize they are aging and your time with them is short. Make a commitment to reach out to them more frequently. You will be so glad you did!
Love you!
~Mama
I was peeling Granny Smiths for an apple crisp. For some reason, my grandmother was on my mind; I mean really on my mind. I remember thinking, "Geez, Gram, you must be thinking about me because I am thinking about you." My right hand began to hurt like hell after peeling only a couple of apples and I thought I was going to have to stop, that I was not going to be able to make apple crisp. It was an important part of a get-together meal I was working on, so I determined I was going to peel eight pounds of apples in spite of the pain. At one point the stiffness became so uncomfortable I couldn't help but think about the arthritic pain Gram endured for years. It was then that I looked down at my hand and, for a split second, saw my Grammy's hand in place of my own. I felt comforted. Fond memories of her in the kitchen made me forget my gimpy hand and before long smell of the the crisp filled the house.
Grandparents are a gift. I was very, very lucky to have live grandparents. Between the ages of 5 and 15, even though we lived on opposite sides of the United States (military deployment), my grandparents were a constant presence in my life. My brother and I received countless phone calls, cards, and letters. Gram used to end her phone calls by reminding me, "I have you and your brother with me in a picture on my night stand. Every night I give you a kiss goodnight." Once, when I was 12, my grandparents flew from Maine to San Diego to visit us. I recall my Gram and I sitting on the floor beside the sliding glass door to the backyard playing numerous games of jacks. My Gramp and Dad took Craig and I to see a Padres baseball game. We all toured the USS Independence together. When I was 15, we moved from Washington State back to Maine. We lived with my grandparents in Waterville for several months while my dad looked for work. After we moved to Topsham, we regularly visited my grandparents for a Sunday meal, or for a family gathering with my uncle, aunt and cousins at Reid State Park beach. Gramp always had a whiskey and water in hand and a smile on his face as he observed his family's goings-on. What amazing memories! When I graduated from high school, I move away to college and, unfortunately, I saw my grandparents much less frequently. I later joined the military and moved out of state. I visited them the few times I came home, but by that time, Gram developed Alzheimer's and communication became difficult. I am not the type to live with regret, but there is one thing I would willingly turn back the clock for: more time with my Gram and Gramp.
One moment you can be incredibly fortunate to have your grandparents in your life. The next moment they are gone. It is then, all you have are memories...and a longing to make more. I implore you to reach out to your grandparents more, kiddos. A simple phone call will completely make their day. The sound of your voice will bring a flood of pleasant memories and hours of discussion and reminiscing. The older I get, the more I realize my parents appreciate nothing more than my time. I also realize they are aging and your time with them is short. Make a commitment to reach out to them more frequently. You will be so glad you did!
Love you!
~Mama
Thursday, September 12, 2013
Mama: The Best "Job" in the World!
Finished with work for the day, I decided to peruse Facebook. I came upon an intriguing status/video my friend posted. Knowing what a dedicated and loving mother she is, I decided to click...
...and then began thoughts of how wonderful it is to be your mom.
In this video, mothers perform routines I know so well. I saw myself waking you for school, preparing your breakfasts, seeing you off to school, attending your events, encouraging you through tough moments. I was touched by the tenderness within the eyes of each mother, the pride that shined as they witnessed the accomplishments they, as well as their children, had earned.
I began reflecting there is something so incredibly special about being a mom--not just a mother (anyone who bears children is naturally a mother). There was something so incredibly humbling about being your mom. It meant I rose early to make sure you were up on time (and didn't oversleep...). It meant I dragged myself to the kitchen to make sure the muffins were out of the oven and the milk was poured before you made it to the table. It meant dinner was already planned (probably in the crock-pot and bread machine) because after-school activities and homework had to be done later (and "Oh yeah, Mom! We are having a party and I volunteered to bring homemade cookies" [not store-bought], or "I need you to proofread my paper that is due tomorrow."). It meant swallowing my pride because I did not have the right words to soothe one of your hurts after a breakup. ("Leave me alone! You just DON'T understand, Mom!") It meant crying in the bathroom because I could not make one of you understand I was the ally, not the bad guy. It meant losing sleep at night because one of you was not home...and should have been...and I was worried...and I missed you. It was finding the courage to ask if one of you was gay without offending you. Being a mom meant making sacrifices that meant putting your needs ahead of mine..and I never thought twice about it. (Oh, once in a while it felt good to balk, but I didn't mean it.) I simply loved every day I woke up because it was a new day...and new (and mostly wonderful) things happened every day.
There is something really special about being your mom...I did not raise Olympians, but I did raise an incredibly talented and determined musician, an unbelievably compassionate and passionate CNA, and an incomparably charismatic and sensitive college student. As I think over the ten years I raised you as a single mom, I see you are thoughtful of others and polite, kind, and friendly to strangers. You are aware of the importance of family ties and how valuable it is to keep the ones you love your priority. You understand if you want anything in this world you should not wait for it to be handed to you; you must work it, even if the work is long, hard, and unforgiving. I am privileged to to witness these gifts, though from afar most times (now that you are grown), as your mom.
Being your mom makes me feel special. You tell me "Thank you" every time I do something for you..little or big. ("Thanks for dinner, Mom!") You surprise me with unexpected gestures (just as I have always done for you). (Case in point: Dom, you came home after working all day and attending classes last night with a gift card from one of my favorite stores in the mall, Papyrus, simply because you "had the money" and knew I would like it.) You request specific dishes you love from childhood just to capture memories. ("Three Corn Casserole, please.") I love that you just want to hang out with me--because I want to hang out with you. I love the way you hug me because, when you do, I feel as though you appreciate me as mom...and you finally get me...and how much I loved...LOVE being your mom.
I just have to say, after watching this video, being a mom to you three (as tough as it was sometime) brought (brings) me SO much joy. I am SO blessed by the three of you and I am SO thankful to God for trusting me with you. You are my Olympians in SO many ways!
With my whole heart,
~Mama
...and then began thoughts of how wonderful it is to be your mom.
In this video, mothers perform routines I know so well. I saw myself waking you for school, preparing your breakfasts, seeing you off to school, attending your events, encouraging you through tough moments. I was touched by the tenderness within the eyes of each mother, the pride that shined as they witnessed the accomplishments they, as well as their children, had earned.
I began reflecting there is something so incredibly special about being a mom--not just a mother (anyone who bears children is naturally a mother). There was something so incredibly humbling about being your mom. It meant I rose early to make sure you were up on time (and didn't oversleep...). It meant I dragged myself to the kitchen to make sure the muffins were out of the oven and the milk was poured before you made it to the table. It meant dinner was already planned (probably in the crock-pot and bread machine) because after-school activities and homework had to be done later (and "Oh yeah, Mom! We are having a party and I volunteered to bring homemade cookies" [not store-bought], or "I need you to proofread my paper that is due tomorrow."). It meant swallowing my pride because I did not have the right words to soothe one of your hurts after a breakup. ("Leave me alone! You just DON'T understand, Mom!") It meant crying in the bathroom because I could not make one of you understand I was the ally, not the bad guy. It meant losing sleep at night because one of you was not home...and should have been...and I was worried...and I missed you. It was finding the courage to ask if one of you was gay without offending you. Being a mom meant making sacrifices that meant putting your needs ahead of mine..and I never thought twice about it. (Oh, once in a while it felt good to balk, but I didn't mean it.) I simply loved every day I woke up because it was a new day...and new (and mostly wonderful) things happened every day.
There is something really special about being your mom...I did not raise Olympians, but I did raise an incredibly talented and determined musician, an unbelievably compassionate and passionate CNA, and an incomparably charismatic and sensitive college student. As I think over the ten years I raised you as a single mom, I see you are thoughtful of others and polite, kind, and friendly to strangers. You are aware of the importance of family ties and how valuable it is to keep the ones you love your priority. You understand if you want anything in this world you should not wait for it to be handed to you; you must work it, even if the work is long, hard, and unforgiving. I am privileged to to witness these gifts, though from afar most times (now that you are grown), as your mom.
Being your mom makes me feel special. You tell me "Thank you" every time I do something for you..little or big. ("Thanks for dinner, Mom!") You surprise me with unexpected gestures (just as I have always done for you). (Case in point: Dom, you came home after working all day and attending classes last night with a gift card from one of my favorite stores in the mall, Papyrus, simply because you "had the money" and knew I would like it.) You request specific dishes you love from childhood just to capture memories. ("Three Corn Casserole, please.") I love that you just want to hang out with me--because I want to hang out with you. I love the way you hug me because, when you do, I feel as though you appreciate me as mom...and you finally get me...and how much I loved...LOVE being your mom.
I just have to say, after watching this video, being a mom to you three (as tough as it was sometime) brought (brings) me SO much joy. I am SO blessed by the three of you and I am SO thankful to God for trusting me with you. You are my Olympians in SO many ways!
With my whole heart,
~Mama
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
Peanut Butter and Raspberry Memory
Aly,
For some reason (probably because there was nothing better in the house to "cheat" with) I made a peanut butter and raspberry jam sandwich for lunch yesterday. Upon the first bite, I was transported back in time to the day of your birth.
Labor began in the morning and steadily moved along. Your father recorded the frequency of my contractions. They weren't so bad; in fact, I got hungry and slapped some peanut butter and raspberry jam atop two slices of bread and devoured them in between contractions. All was well until, shortly before you were born, those two open-faced goodies decided they wanted to make an exit...into the nearest trash can. Ugh! I've not been a PB 'n' J fan since. No wonder why I remembered the day you made us a family. :/
Love,
~Mama
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| Look how young I looked (and how happy)! |
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| I remember the sound of you smacking on your little hand like it was yesterday! |
~Mama
Thursday, February 21, 2013
Strawberry Juice
Dom's excitement over bowl of sugared strawberries I just prepared sparked this memory:
Mom used to slice fresh strawberries into a bowl, sprinkle them with sugar, cover them tightly, and then store them in the refrigerator for several hours. Though my brother and I wanted to eat them right away, we knew it was best to be patient and wait for the time when Mom would give us the go-ahead. The very best part of the anticipated treat was the syrupy goodness at the bottom of the bowl!
I think it is kind of cool when I do the things for you kids that my mother used to do for me. :)
Love,
~Mama
Mom used to slice fresh strawberries into a bowl, sprinkle them with sugar, cover them tightly, and then store them in the refrigerator for several hours. Though my brother and I wanted to eat them right away, we knew it was best to be patient and wait for the time when Mom would give us the go-ahead. The very best part of the anticipated treat was the syrupy goodness at the bottom of the bowl!
I think it is kind of cool when I do the things for you kids that my mother used to do for me. :)
Love,
~Mama
Friday, February 15, 2013
Forever Friends
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| Peggy, me, and Lisa New Hampshire, 1989 |
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| Peggy, little Kyle, and me |
Peggy already had a son, Kyle, who was not quite two; therefore, she was full of wisdom. I loved watching her with Kyle. She was calm and loving, quick to laugh, quick to teach, and quick to compliment. She made me feel confident about the adventure I was about to embark on; heck, she made me feel confident about the journey I was on. Most of all, she loved being a mom, and she loved being pregnant, just as I did.
It's pretty special being able to share your pregnancy with special ladies! Lisa was due at the end of June/the first part of July, but she went early with Michael. I was due the first part of July and gave birth to you, Aly, on July 6th. Peg came to visit me in the hospital and, unbeknownst to her, she was in labor, even though she was not due for a a week or two. She gave birth to Brett the day after you were born, Aly, on July 7th.
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| Lisa and Michael, Peg and Brett, me and Aly, 1990 |
After you babies were born, we mommies and you babies got together pretty often to play. The pictures above and to the right depict one such play date on a beautiful spring day in Dover, NH. You three really enjoyed each others' company and, I have to say, the days when all of us would meet were some of my happiest.
Today, I met my forever-friend, Peg, after not seeing her since August of 1990. That is when Pease Air Force Base (AFB) closed down and your dad left to find us a home in Sumter, South Carolina, home of Shaw AFB. We, and Jay, who was "baking in the oven," would meet him in October. Seeing Peggy today was one of the most wonderful moments of my life. Imagine losing someone so important to you and being reunited after years of wondering if that could even be possible. We met at Olive Garden in Biddeford, Maine. On first sight of her I wanted to bawl, just bawl, but I did not want to waste time crying! I wanted to stare at her and listen to her voice. The sight and sound of her brought me back 23 years, and it was if all time melted away. The Olive Garden was not scheduled to open until 11:30, so we climbed into the back of her van. She showed me Christmas ornaments I'd forgotten I'd sent to her in 1991. I remembered she sent us Petite Fours at Christmas for years. She patiently listened as I told her how your dad and I broke up, and asked me a million questions about you, Aly, and you, Jay, and you, Dom. I listened excitedly as she shared with me all the successes Kyle and Brett have earned, and I reveled in the pride obvious in her voice and in her expressions. My heart welled as she described what a wonderful husband and father Bruce has been for 27 years. We laughed at the many memories we packed into our short visit....like yours, Brett's, and Michael's first birthday party, Al, with all the moms and babies from our prego exercise class. (I think we had to put a couple of babies, including you, into the bathtub! From the blue on your face, I think you fearlessly dug into your cake! I remember Brett gingerly poking the very tip of his finger into his cake and Kyle howling with laughter...it's on video tape somewhere...precious!)
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| Exercise class moms and their babies celebrate Brett, Michael's and Aly's first birthday! |
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| 1990...but many more years ahead! |
Wednesday, December 26, 2012
Christmas Ornaments
One of my favorite holiday moments--and the one that truly kicks off the season--is adorning the Christmas tree with all the ornaments we have collected over the years. I love it for two reasons: first, because you, Dominic, enjoy helping me load up the tree--something we have done together in the last five or six years, and second, because each ornament brings me back to a happy memory. There are those that you made in school (Jay's glittery Popsicle stick icicles, Dom's candy cane reindeer [that, sadly, we discovered melted this year!]). There are those that sport a specific year (the "To Santa, Love Aly and Jay '94" mittens and the penguin ornament Lisa Babb gave us in 2003, which marked the first Christmas we shared after we moved back to Maine), or mark a specific place (the Spangdahlem AFB Germany 2002 mittens). Some mark your very first Christmas (Aly's wooden "Alyssa," Jay's baby hanging from a snowflake, and Dom's toy chest and mouse lying in an acorn). I think there is at least one snowflake made of beads and pipe cleaners you made with a babysitter oh-so-many years ago. And how about all the Kathe Wohlfhart ornaments I bought when we went to Rothenburg in Germany? Those are pretty unique, huh? There are even a few ornaments Nana Spaltro gave us over the years--she loved Christmas ornaments, too. She did have six children, after all! :)
Oh yes... and let's not forget the one ornament that Aly hung from our tree a couple of years ago...a polka dotted bra! Heh heh heh!
Love,
Mama
Oh yes... and let's not forget the one ornament that Aly hung from our tree a couple of years ago...a polka dotted bra! Heh heh heh!
Love,
Mama
Friday, October 5, 2012
I Love...
I love when you three babes are home. It blesses me to see you hug each other with genuine love and happiness to see each other. I love the sound of your laughter and the silly stories and jokes you share. I love the comments you make to me out of earshot of each other:
"He's so good." "He's so handsome." "She's so talented." "She's so smart." "She's so pretty." "She's so funny."
I am truly blown away by your very different personalities and how they complement each other when you are in the same room. I love that you reminice and that you look at old pictures of each other. I love that you take new pictures together...capturing new memories. I love that you gang up and make fun of me (most times). I love hearing you say "Mama."
For all the mistakes I made raising you alone, I must have done a few things right and that makes me feel relieved and proud. Remember, when I am gone, you will only have each other. Cherish your bond and keep each other close in heart and in love. That is the thing I want most in this world.
~Mama
"He's so good." "He's so handsome." "She's so talented." "She's so smart." "She's so pretty." "She's so funny."
I am truly blown away by your very different personalities and how they complement each other when you are in the same room. I love that you reminice and that you look at old pictures of each other. I love that you take new pictures together...capturing new memories. I love that you gang up and make fun of me (most times). I love hearing you say "Mama."
For all the mistakes I made raising you alone, I must have done a few things right and that makes me feel relieved and proud. Remember, when I am gone, you will only have each other. Cherish your bond and keep each other close in heart and in love. That is the thing I want most in this world.
~Mama
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