2 day pass

this weekend marked the fifth anniversary of my mom's death.
it's a milestone i would rather not have to acknowledge.
my uncle, her brother, and my aunt were visiting from across the lake for the weekend.
they were here for a wedding so we mostly crossed paths over coffee in the mornings and cocktails at the tail end of the eve.
guests and weekend plans meant little time for brooding for this wallower.
perhaps, that is healthier.
saturday night our bowling league started.
the same league we were a part of two years ago and then quit.
don't ask.
i was really punky about having to go be social with a large group.
punky with a capital p.
but then it ended up being an enjoyable evening ugly shoes, bad wine and poor scores aside.
i never bowled 100.
i did get a 99.
yet i felt like a million bucks reconnecting with friends.
sunday school resumed early the next beautiful morning.
miss bit asked if there is church in summer.
our bad.
we'll be religious attendees now through spring.
not because we have to...we want to.
it felt so right to be back.
i lit lots of candles after mass and said many prayers.
then t. bone joined coach and me for a coffee date.
only t. bone had a vbf (vanilla bean frappaccino).
we all visited a favorite playground nestled under a bridge, beside the river on the outskirts of the city.
and then the rest of the day we went our separate ways: golf, play date, errands and such.
coach grilled n.y. strips and i made my mom's zucchini casserole at the end of a full day.
dessert was an episode of breaking bad for the over 40 crowd.
i fell asleep exhausted in every way.

On My Mind Monday

Suffering is reality, even if unhappiness need not be our response to it.

Pico Iyer

The Value of Suffering

It's all I got today.  It was a happy sad weekend. Saturday I suffered.  Sunday I soared.  I was light and lofty by choice.  Church, my children and Coach added to my sunnier disposition most definitely.  The reality was that I felt sad, but I smiled through it.  I'm not always able to do that though.

Dear Mom,

In a couple hours, five years ago this morning we said 'goodbye.'  You were no longer able to speak, but even without words you were able to get your point across beautifully.  You took my hand.  You took my brother's hand.  Your two children...your pride and joy. You held our hands together between your fragile, bony hands.  You looked at us with tears in your milky, soulful eyes.  You looked into us.  I felt it.  I felt your love, your gratitude and also your sadness.  I know you felt our's too.  You squeezed our hands tight and long.  I heard in that grasp you saying, I am leaving for now, but I will love you forever. Then you removed your hand from the pile and clasped our hands together.  It is just the two of you now.  Take care of each other. Remember me.  You took your last few breaths and passed on peacefully. 

It seems impossible that five years have passed.  I talk to you every day.  There are days I know you are listening.  I hope today is one of them.  Please send me a sign Mom.  I'll be watching.  A shiny orange VW convertible will do. I'll be listening.  The whir of the hummingbird's wings as it hovers atop our streptocarpella will be just fine.  I need one today.  And if nothing else please help me feel peace in my heart.

I miss you as much as I love you Mom,

Krissy

Grateful Friday

Today I give thanks for...

Cool mornings, warm days, cold nights.  Perfect fall.

The first batch of pumpkin bread.  No longer my Mom's recipe...now mine.  It'll always remind me of her though.

A movie date with T. Bone last Sunday.  We sat side by side in the theater for a more mature feature whilst Coach escorted Miss Bit for lighter fare next door.  Turns out that almost 13 is not really mature. No harm yes foul.  All fine after one slightly sleepless night.

A trip to Whole Foods with my girl.  In our $50+ bag  cart: sweet smelling soaps, orchids, triple cream brie, fancy crackers, fancier nuts, best of fall apples and wine. What I call the essentials.

Our autumn Door County trip is booked.  Love the cozy peninsula in late fall.  Love it every season.  Love long weekends away with my family best of all.

Mother daughter book clubs and the desire to start one soon.  Also many good ideas for months worth of read alouds.

We talked about this and that, nothing special.  It was just a day.  I didn’t need to shape it or mourn it or grip it — or do anything at all, other than live it.  Katrina Kenison's words reminding me at just the right time this week that all I need to do is be present.  I spent the better part of the week falling behind or getting ahead.

My family ate the meatloaf I made this week even though none of them were big fans.  Apparently, thyme has a very distinct and not all together pleasing taste.  Of course, I loved it.  It is simple fact: we can never all agree.

Sunday school starts this weekend.  We are all in need of that special slice of extra reverent time each week.

Miss Bit started learning to play the recorder this week in music.  After the first day, she came home and practiced Hot Cross Buns for what seemed like cacophonous forever.  I even sent her outside at one point to play for the critters only and only then did the sound of her perfectly playing the song waft through the windows.  She is determined to master every level of the recorder and fast, and I know it is only the recorder, but I am proud.

T. Bone started guitar lessons again this week.  He came home with a good start on Blackbird: a song he's longed to learn...one of my favorites.  At various points this week, I was a tad verklempt listening to him strum away more and more masterfully.

Homemade cookwiches.  Warm out of the oven cookies filled with cold and creamy vanilla ice-cream is the best Indian summer after school snack...just ask the kids.

Grandpa's wings.  T. Bone ate so many he had no room for Grandpa's ribs or his beer can chicken.

Hammy kids who lay it on in front of the camera.

We gathered to celebrate Grandpa's birthday last weekend.  He cooked...see above.

Family.

Friday.

Fall.

On My Mind Monday

You look at today, chil.' You say, 'Thank you, Lawd, for everythin' you gives me today.' Then you worries about the next day when the next day come.

The Kitchen House

Kathleen Grissom 

I cannot wait to finish this novel and yet I never want it to end.

On This Week's Menu

Unless we want dinner at 4:00, this week dinner will be served after 7:00.  Guitar and play rehearsal get added to the weekly line-up, and we have company coming to town Thursday so we will eat out.  I need to keep things very simple.  On the menu:

Meatloaf, Roasted Cauliflower, Broccoli and Pasta bake with White Cheddar

Chicken Pot Pie with Root Vegetables, homemade applesauce

Mac and Cheese by Kraft, fresh green beans

Both the pasta dish and the pot pie are from Curtis Stone's new book. I'm still working my way through it, or rather we are still eating our way through it.

Dear Mom,

Happy Birthday.  Today we would be celebrating your 65th.  It's a beautiful late summer early fall day that would be perfect for happy hour on your deck and one of your melt in my mouth pork roasts.  I know you would have been most pleased with a simple family dinner.  Filled up you would have been to have the people closest to you gathered around your table.  Yesterday we would have gone out for lunch with the girls.  No fanfare or hoopla necessary.  You knew what was important in life, and what's more...you absolutely cherished it.

To say that I miss you, doesn't adequately explain the vacancy in my heart.  It's not dramatic to call it a hole. A black hole even with every negative association with the word black applicable: starless, somber, shadowy.  That murky void isn't the only thing I'm left with though.  I also have decades worth of life, love, laughs and lessons all of which I now cherish. You taught me some of the most important truths that I try to live my life by.

You weren't perfect, but that's probably what I loved most about you.  You were real...authentic...true.  I have a few souls left in my life that I'd describe just the same way.  You would too.  They have been such a lifeline during the past five years I've spent coming to terms with your absence in my life.

Absence is a rather absolute word I must admit.  After all,  our relationship hasn't ended...it has changed.  That's frustrating at times.  Like last week when I received correspondence involving your estate long ago settled.  I felt like it was a message, a sign.  So sure was I that I went straight away to buy lottery tickets using the policy numbers involved.  No win.  No surprise.  Some disappointment.  Mostly over the mixed message not the nonexistent windfall.  A sign rightly received would have been the lottery won.

You see I look for missives from you all the time.  I know I see them sometimes when it is just coincidence or chance, but what if?  I was so certain that at last night's owl prowl we would see another great horned owl like the one I saw on the same preserve in broad daylight just days after your death.  Truth be told, I got my hopes up high.  Real high.  I held it in my heart that if we saw an owl, it would be a sign.  Not a manifestation, but a token wink.

About a half hour into our hike as the sun was setting and before the moon was arise, Miss Bit asked me if I would be sad if we didn't see an owl.  I lied to my daughter.  I said no when my answer was yes.  Not but a minute later we heard a lone and distant hoot calling not once, but twice from the conifer canopy along the northern ravine ridge.  It was the herald I was seeking.  The whole group doubled back closer to the spot from which the horned owl called, but I stopped straining to hear.  I already had my shout out.

So thanks Mom for still being there for me when I really need you.  I feel your presence when I quiet my mind and open my heart and stop trying so dang hard.  I wish we could celebrate with you today in flesh and blood, but mind and spirit will have to do.  You are always in my heart and I love you,

Krissy