Thanksgiving 2011: Gratitude 101

Grateful for the inbreath.  Grateful for the pause at the end of the outbreath.   Grateful I have a home, not just brick and mortar.  Grateful for family, near and far, grateful for friends, wherever they are.  Greatful for this heart, full of sparkly light.  Greatful for God's handiwork, full blown autumn's colors. Grateful for the generations before me that planted those trees. Grateful for tradition, food and drink.    Greateful for every sorrow I've ever endured.  Grateful for today.  This moment. Here.  Now.  Stillness of 11:47 pm. Not even cats purring. Grateful for crisp clean sheets.  Grateful for Sleep.

Casilada Way Estate Sale

Hunky hubby and I just got home from an estate sale from the neighbor down the block. The husband and wife couldn’t keep up the big house and yard anymore and moved to smaller quarters.  It was sad to see a lifetime's accumulation, reduced to left-over pieces of clutter. We brought home pieces of their lives to clutter our own.  Some were practical items, a 1/3 stainless steel measuring cup and sugar and creamer set.  I don’t know why but I can’t stop myself from buying sugar and creamer sets, especially if I see the creamer on her own, or the sugar without the lid.  Like a widow lost without her mate.  I was happy to see them together, some sugar, like life, still clinging to the inside.  An ancient rock collection, carefully cataloged in egg cartons, an owl statue and matchbook from a wedding back in 1985.  I wonder if Lorrie and Russ are still together, like the sugar and creamer set?  I found a La Boulangerie trivet, a well loved set of jacks and an anthology of poetry.  How easily I can get lost in poetry.  As we were leaving, I went digging through fabric scraps for inspiration and fabric for my collage installations; I came across some original batik prints in florals, dragons, crane and abstracts.  The homeowner, a local Sacramento artist, practiced her prints on old sheets before printing.  So I added those to my pile, and brought them home to include in the clutter as well.    

It is getting chilly and the air growing dark.  I ignored my housework for awhile, to jot down a couple words here.  I wanted to share the sadness of lives changing, as the autumn season grows to winter.  Honor those that came before us, lite a candle in their honor.   And make their clutter mine.

“Rub them raw, rub them raw.”

  her mama said

“Sand the floor with your feet.”

Knee deep in tea and a fistful of holy cards in one hand and a hanky in the other, like spider nets, catch her dreams that try to escape.

“Challenge yourself to cry until you're contorted into something new,”  mama says, “perhaps a lovely lady rocking a side pony tail that says things like, "I really don't feel like to go to the wedding.  I am simply just too sad.""

Heavenly Mother Hear my Prayer

There's a bonfire in my heart
A tsunami, earthquake break
creepy sounds in the night
music box notes
from a haunted closet
red and blue night lights
and the very last straw
before the dam breaks
not belonging where I come from
going home to where I belong.
I'm running for my life again, but this time it's for my spirit too.

Heavenly Mother hear my prayer, may I find my way home safely
Land softly in the arms of my beloved, and my dear ones.
Land on a dance floor and embrace my tribe
to dance and sweat my tears
and thank you for the reminder.

Of a lesson not yet revealed.
For this tender broken heart.
And I will listen for your message.
Be clear, so there is no doubt it came from you, Dear Mother.
That I may find my way.  In this darkness.

Mother/Son Texting Conversations

8/24:
Mother:  Hey earthquake?  You okay? Crazy sad here
 Son:  Yes just a shake.  2.9 magnitude.  New experience for sure.

8/26:
Son:  Hey I love you.  Get some rest!  Good Night.

8/27:
Son: Pozole here.  Pretty good 
Mother: As good as Mom's?  Dad said you had a nice visit.  Alone tonight here.  Kind of nice.
Son:  Dad said he had a good trip?  And it's pretty good.  Not bad.   Oily though.
Mother: Working on setting up my computer.  Just finished initial set up.
Son: Nice nice.
Mother: I'm trying to finish Shaomay's scarf.
Son:  Cool thanks.
Son: Hey i got oil on my shoe  I tried rubbing alcohol but it's still kind of there...  what should i do?  Baby powder
Mother: Baby powder let it soak then brush it off.  Do that a few times.  Then let me know.
Son:  Don't got none
Mother:   :'( miss me?  :p buy some tomorrow
Son:  Kkty

8/29:
Mother:  Night Night
Son:  Night

8/30:
Mother:  G'nite baby boy.  I miss you and I miss home.  And my mom.
Son:  Mhmm we are here though.  Good Night.
Mother:  In heart together.  Family.  Free of need for words.
Son:  Yes
Mother:  Nightmoon

me & my boy
Yolo County Fair 2011

Son:  Night

8/31:
Mother:  G'nite
Son:  Nite.  Back to dorm safe.
Mother:  i was only a little worried.  how is class?
Son: Alright
Mother: Pshhh  G'nite

Dodie, Kitty & Blanche

"We were called the three musketeers."   "We were for eachother thru thick and thin."  Kitty told me.  "Whenever we had some troubles we'd call Blanche.  "I'm  not just saying that because she just passed, I've said that before." Dodie is in Florida now and couldn't travel for the service but sent a fabulous flower arrangement from her & Kitty.  Kitty was in the back of the church -- accessorized with the two things necessary for a friend of 50+ years funeral: dark glasses and a hanky. 

In the card Dodie & Kitty sent was this little poem.  Pretty much sums up how I feel right now.

You are not forgotten, loved one (mother)
  Nor will you ever be,
As long as life and memory last
  We will remember thee.
We miss you now, our hearts are sore
As time goes by, we'll miss you more.
Your loving smile, your gentle face,
No one can fill your vacant place.

My Mama's Gone to Heaven

One of my favorite memories of my mom is waking to the bright sinshine as she raised the shades and sang "Good Morning Mary Sunshine".    Her signature greeting, a smile on her lips, twinkle in her eye, and song in her heart.    To those that knew her, she was the perfect blend of spices and herbs that made that sauce forever simmering on the stove simply out of this world. In the last few years she managed to slip away from us, slowly passing through the veil between this world and the next.  She was ready, she told me to move on to whatever was next.  When I asked her if she would come back and tell me what it was like on the other side, she replied, "Oh, I don't know if that is allowed."  It was almost as if she didn't want to make a promise she wasn't sure she could keep. 

Now that she is actually gone, I'm anxious for her visit.  Exhausted with grief I'd love to tell my favorite story about her.

When I was just a little thing, I'd tell my mom, "I love you."  She just smiled and gave me a big hug and say, oh baby, you're just you wait.  You're just beginning to understand what love is.  As I dated into my 20's and I'd tell her I was in love, she'd say, "Just you wait.  Just wait until you find the right man, it will be then, you'll really know what love is. 

When Arthur and I became engaged, I called her especally to tell her, "Mom, you were right, I found the right person, I finally understand what love is."  I couldn't imagine loving anything more than my hunky hubby. She just smiled and said, "Just you wait.  Just wait until you have a child of your own."  

Three years later, I gave birth to a baby boy and suddenly overcome with heart wrenching joy.  I couldn't imagine loving anything more than this beautiful baby boy.  She came and stayed with us and helped out the first few months.  I was so happy to report back to her that she was right, I had found pure unconditional love.  She just smiled with that twinkle in her eye and said, "Just you wait.  Just you wait until you have grandchildren."