Category Archives: love

What are you full of?

imageDuring last night’s mental therapy run, I was thinking about potential and how long it takes for some to accept the challenge and make the effort required to embody their own unrealized possibility. Self actualization  – it isn’t necessarily an easy thing to accomplish.

Change and growth can be scary.  There’s an inherent risk involved when we let go of what we know to reach for something new. I see this hesitation, this lack of movement, at times in myself as well as in (other) important people in my life and it can be maddeningly frustrating.  It’s hard to feel, it’s equally hard to witness.

Possessing potential is great but over the years I’ve learned that a central core of ability is nothing, unless it comes coupled with the capacity to work hard. Without drive and determination, being full of potential can closely resemble being full of sh*t.

A couple of songs which hammered home what I was thinking and feeling during those five miles. Thank you, Fiona and Aimee for the wisdom.

 

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Filed under aging, love, musings, Observations, running, Uncategorized

Unforgettable lessons

There are books that I read which are impossible to put down, a recent example being The Girl on the Train. I was so eager to find out what really happened that I refused to stop reading until I finished the book. I was neither disappointed, nor regretful of my decision to push on until I reached that final page and felt a welcome sense of resolution. It was a really good read.

The book I’m reading now though, is, if you’ll pardon the pun, a whole different story. Unforgettable: A Son, a Mother, and the Lessons of a Lifetime by NPR newsman, Scott Simon, is a work that I don’t want to finish. You see, if I finish it, the story will end and I so want the story (and Scott’s mother’s life) to continue.  Simon’s book, a memoir of his mother, and their life together, originated as a series of Tweets during his mother’s time in the intensive care unit at the end of her life. The time Simon and his mother shared together in the hospital was a quilt of memories, thoughts, laughter and songs that provided comfort and solace to them both as they faced their final days together.

Below are some my favorite nuggets of wisdom. Simon’s Tweets appear, as in the book, in bold text. Quotes are the words of his mother, Patricia.

  • I just realized: she once had to let me go into the big wide world. Now I have to let her go the same way.
  • “You tell your children something a hundred times…You’re lucky if they remember one or two. Dos, don’ts, count for almost nothing. All they remember is what you do. Whether you want them to or not.”
  • I love holding my mother’s hand. Haven’t held it like this since I was 9. Why did I stop? I thought it unmanly? What crap.
  • “Show children the best people and places. Let them know they belong.”
  • She will make the face of heaven shine so fine that all the world will be in love with night.

There’s so much wisdom in this book, so much love and laughter that I wish it went beyond the mere 244 print pages, that Patricia’s life went beyond only 84 years. As a mom to three sons, I can’t help but read this and hope that at the end of my life my “boys” will honor me with an iota of the respect and appreciation that Scott shows his mother. I don’t need one of them to write a book or anything, but I love the picture I’ve drawn in my head of my children sharing the memories and moments that have woven us together forever.

Mother’s Day is coming. Buy this book.

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Filed under aging, Books, Boys, family, favorites, holidays, ideas, love, moms, Recommendations

I never imagined

imageOn our 15th wedding anniversary, my husband and I had a special dinner at a restaurant on Martha’s Vineyard. The meal was a bit of a disappointment, but the company was good.

After we had finished our meals and were somewhere between entrée and dessert, our wedding song came on over the restaurant’s speakers. I was touched and felt my eyes well with emotion. I thought to myself “we should dance.” There wasn’t a dance floor (it was a restaurant), but we could have managed a twirl or two. It was our 15th wedding anniversary.

I’ve thought back to that night a few times and wonder what might have been different if I had forced the words “we should dance” out of my mouth or if he had said “I arranged for this song to play.” If either of us had done something to demonstrate our love for the other. Would it have been enough to have prompted us to steer our ships once again to be side by side and in the same direction? I’ll never know.

By our next anniversary dinner, we were, in retrospect, clearly sailing in different directions. It was a fancy meal, perfectly executed and filled with laughter. We met the chef-owner and there were many bottles of wine uncorked. My feet hurt in their new shoes. It was good to feel something.

It’s almost 5 years later now and I never dreamed this life that I’m living. I write and run and work and eat and take pictures and I love, love, love. I feel more alive than I’ve ever felt and am equally inspired by today and the thought of tomorrow. Things may not have gone the way I imagined they would, but as an inherently grounded person, my imagination is sometimes too timid.

I never imagined I’d quote Hugh Hefner but he said it perfectly:

“In my wildest dreams, I could not have imagined a sweeter life.”

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Filed under aging, love, marriage, musings, relationships, writing

Take a walk on the child side

Last evening, after finally coming to terms with the fact that I wasn’t going to take a run, I decided to take a walk instead with Jeter. I made my usual offer to the boys to see if they cared to join me but was met by their usual response – no, thanks.  I got myself warmly dressed and cued up a Pandora station of standards/vocal jazz and popped my earbuds in. Just as I reached for the doorknob, Quinn had a change of heart and decided to accompany me. Faster than I’ve ever seen him move, he had shoes and coat on and off we went.

There was something about walking in the foggy night that made for a cozy, not creepy experience. As we walked along Whitehall Road, we talked quietly, sharing my earbuds as we listened together to Nat King Cole and Ella Fitzgerald. Our conversation was filled with talk of which houses we admired, how challenging Jeter could be at times and how cool his new clip-on flashing light is. Funnily, I thought the light was shaped like a heart,* while Quinn thought it was a bone. He was correct but I was graciously given permission to think it was a heart if I wanted to. Sweet.

imageWe stopped at his school’s primary grades playground and Quinn shared memories of playing there “years ago.” We talked about how in just a couple of years he’ll moving on to middle school and how fast time goes.  As we neared the end of our walk, he found a series of puddles irresistible and made an attempt to leap them, with mixed success. His landing perfectly illustrated why so many of his pants have blown out knees. He is adorable.

Once home, after suggesting that we “do this again soon,” he continued to charm me with all that he had to say. Like: “What do you want to do? Watch a movie and sit on the couch eating ice cream?” and “Why does everything happen when you’re three? Grandma Sheila died when I was 3. I made a lot of my life decisions when I was three.”

I am so looking forward to our next walk.

*probably because of my love for the person who gave it to Jeter

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Filed under aging, Boys, DelSo, Exercise, family, love

Love, me

Image: //www.techiy.com

Image: //www.techiy.com

Don’t even approach my body unless you’ve first been between my ears. I’m 48, not 18.

True love isn’t roses and chocolate. It’s starting my car on a winter’s morning or bringing home pizza on a Friday night.

Love is buying me the Sunday paper on Saturday so I don’t have to go outside on a cold morning.

Love means being able to continue to believe.

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Filed under aging, holidays, love, musings, relationships, winter

Dog years and the passage of time

image

The day we first met Jeter

The youngest of my “boys” recently celebrated his first birthday and, while the occasion was a happy one to mark, I also noted the date with a tinge of sadness. That year certainly went quickly. When I thought about the number of years we got to love Cassidy (12.5) and started doing simple math in my head, I got a bit melancholy considering how few more years we can expect Jeter to be our baby. It simply doesn’t feel like nearly enough.

I don’t dwell on the lack of how much time remains, but I do find myself conscious of it. I’ve been thinking a lot about time recently. The older I get, the more I value it. What to do with my time and who to spend it with are two of the most important decisions I make each day. What once seemed infinite has definitely evolved into being one of life’s most precious gifts. It’s true, time is a present and I’ve vowed to become even more discriminating about how I use it.

When it comes to time, how long are you willing to invest in someone? What length of time would you give a person to show you their very best? A week? A year? Or, are you of the mindset that we’re all works in progress and it is acceptable to wait forever? It’s a tough call, one we each have to make (and live with) ourselves.

How do we ever know if we’ve done the right thing(s) with our time? As my oldest son gets ready to make decisions about where to continue to his education and to leave home, I wonder how the time of our living under the same roof went by so remarkably fast. Is he ready? Did his father and I sufficiently prepare him for what comes next? Was our time together well spent?

Is there a way to ever truly know? Or, maybe a means to just slow down the clock?

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Filed under aging, Boys, family, love, musings, relationships, Schools

“No” doesn’t mean I don’t love you (at least not in my house)

image: beautyparties.weebly

While it may be early in the new year, I think we have a real contender for most ridiculous statement of 2015. Did you see the article in Saturday’s NYT about the day spas for children which are popping up around the country? Well, I’m not even going to address that topic because folks are free to spend their money however they like, but a statement made by a Colorado mother who treated her children to a day’s worth of pampering may just explain the sad state (and future) of our country. Ready? Here it is:

“I don’t want them to feel that my saying ‘no’ means that I don’t love them.”

Go ahead – read it again. Really?? Is that truly something that a parent fears? Are adults afraid to tell their children “no” because they are concerned that their child(ren) will somehow interpret denial as a lack of love? Please say it isn’t so.

When I say ‘no’ it means that I believe something isn’t possible, necessary or deserved. When I say ‘no’ it is often more difficult than simply saying “yes.” When I say “no” I do so because I believe it is the right thing in the long run. When I say “no” it most certainly does not mean that I don’t love you.

If the people in your life, children included, believe that the word “no” is an indication of a lack of love, no amount of beauty products or treatments will ever make that situation pretty.

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