The World So Wide

It’s no use going back to yesterday because I was a different person then.                                        Lewis Carroll~Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland

I’m not much of a television watcher but January has traditionally become my time to ‘hunker down’ with Netflix, revisit a handful of television shows……Gilmore GirlsBewitched. Andy Griffith. Mary Tyler Moore. The West Wing.  Some had better acting and writing than others but the common thread weaving all of them together was community. Characters were supportive and rarely unkind or hurtful to one another. My idealism is showing.

DSC_0010It seems easy today for some people to say petty, unnecessary things, abuse social media. Why is it much easier for humans to wrap themselves around problems, negativity and blaming rather than around joy?  Why is it easier to point out differences than embrace what makes us unique or see the common ground. The week had been complicated.

Having an early morning breakfast with a friend yesterday, I recalled the grieving I went through several years ago.  Not in the traditional sense like when someone dies but in the crazy, unconventional way that parents, especially mothers can understand. . . when your children leave home.  It’s like when a team filled with seniors, lead by a dedicated coach wins the play-offs; the coach is left to rebuild or choose to move on. A bittersweet feeling. Children are never meant to stay in one place….I have discovered, neither are we. None of us are ‘place keepers’.

 

As idyllic as Mayberry or Stars Hollow appeared to be, I wasn’t cut out for that life. We’re not intended to live our parents lives or even the lives of our childhoods. As a single mom, my children and I created our own traditions and defined family using our own lexicon—a new normal with just the three of us, embracing others into our family along the way . Single moms and their families learn to depend on and take care of each other while instilling independence in our children. Patrick Fall 2015It’s a balancing act in the best sense. My children are living proof.  FullSizeRender (6)

 

When my mother asked “Are you a person of fear or a person of faith?”  she was teaching me that a person of character will have many moments in their life. Decision making. Joy. Sorrow. Betrayal. Misunderstanding. Leave-takings. Homecomings. Finances.Hormones. Aging. It’s our job to embrace and find peace in them ALL.

LabyrinthOn New Year’s Day 2011 I walked a labyrinth under a beautiful sky filled with stars. Under the stars that same winter my daughter was in her third year of undergraduate school studying in Prague, my son was in his mid-20’s working his way up the corporate ladder. The steps we all took that year were adventure-filled marked with enthusiasm. We were miles apart yet connected. It  had seemed like such a short journey from infancy to adulthood for them. That night at the beginning of a new year, I resolved to start on a path of self-discovery.  I’ll always be their mother but the time had come to find an adult self apart from being a parent. Along this new journey I’ve had the time to nurture my own interests and career, travel, to reacquaint with friends from childhood, college and beyond who had been on adventures of their own—building careers and families.Who in the world am I I’ve explored and discerned. Some choices were great, some not so great but they were mine. 

Twenty-six years ago this week, with two small children and the promise of a future we moved to Baton Rouge to begin a new life. In four months my son will be the same age I was then. Ironically, last week some dear friends who have lived in Baton Rouge for these same twenty-five years revealed they will be moving.

We aren’t meant to stay put but to move forward. Have no fear….of the movement or of time….The world’s so wide. Enjoy the ride!

on the road

 

 

 

These Are That Day

And how could we endure to live and let time pass if we were always crying for one day or one year to come back–if we did not know that every day in a life fills the whole life with expectation and memory and that these are that day?
C. S. Lewis

I’ve started this one more than once. Some in my head, in traffic. Some lying in bed—early morning, late at night. Walking to work. In the shower. Finally at the computer.

Like the proverbial light bulb, something hit me.

DSC_0862GaudeteExpecting. Anticipating.  Waiting Counting  days. Whether we use candles, games or in the silence of our hearts.

Waiting for….a miracle.

Fifty-six years ago tonight my parents had been playing a waiting game. The eight years between my brother’s birth and my adoption. My uncle’s untimely death. Ordinary days. Extraordinary days.  Wondering, waiting, hoping and praying.  ….every day in a life fills the whole life with expectation….My family were such people.

Mother and Daddy
Mother and Daddy

A drive to Shreveport,  a family is changed. I was changed. Everything is changed…Foley and me

by love….

by the gift of patient waiting.

Over these December weeks I’ve focused on giving of self rather than something that can be wrapped and tied with a bow. My parents’ ninety mile journey that December was such a selfless act….

but others also show such acts…..parents, children, friends, strangers.

Last weekend, the A Capella caroling group I sing with had the opportunity to sing for the residents of one of our local retirement communities. It was a lovely morning singing carols and Hanukkah songs as well as celebrating the 97th  birthday of one of the long-time arts supporters. As we were wrapping up someone tapped me on the shoulder, asking if one of us could sing a carol in his mother’s room. We all went.

Voices of all ages filling a room. A son gently holding and caressing a hand that had once cradled him…

Silent Night. Holy Night. Sleep in heavenly peace. 

…..every day in a life fills the whole life with expectation and memory and that these are that day……

Connection. Gift. Selfless……Love’s pure light.DSC_0851

My take-away is this: miracles aren’t  the same as magic.

Miracles are found in ordinary things like oil or a baby, a song you’ve sung thousands of times, sharing time with family and friends. The gift, at least for me this year, is to remember how extraordinary ordinary is….then to wait for it…

in gratitude….. for each day…

Waitin’

Angel ornament made in 1995 by my daughter, Sarah from pine tree that stood in front of St. Aloysius Church. The trees were ‘repurposed’ by the kindergarten classes when our new church was built.
Kraslice ornament from trip to Prague in 2011. The eggs are a sign of blessing. I brought back a dozen and only lost one in transport.
One of two of my mother’s antique surprise balls that she had as a child…c. 1920-1930’s. One of my favorite ornaments since childhood.
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Each year for twenty years the Sisters that lived at St. Aloysius, the Daughters of Jesus gave me a dove Christmas ornament. It was bittersweet to put those ornaments on the tree after they returned to Spain. All but one of those lovely ladies are singing in the heavenly choir. Each, in their unique way, taught me about peace…and that ‘God is crazy about me’.
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We decorate our tree the third Sunday of Advent – with one exception. The year my daughter was born she was baptized on the first Sunday of Advent. I wanted my son to feel a part of the process so he and made the ornaments then decorated the tree with baby’s breath and lavender. It was one of the prettiest trees I remember.
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This ornament was a gift from a long-time friend, colleague and member of a prayer group we’ve both belonged to for nearly twenty-five years. It is from the Cathedral of St. Joseph in Baton Rouge and not only reminds me of a place that has become my home but also of other “homes” and the dear friends along the journey: Monroe and Shreveport.

Waitin waitin
I’ve been waitin
Waitin waitin all my life.

That light keeps on hiding from me,
But it someday just might bless my sight.
Waitin waitin waitin

William Bolcom ~ from Cabaret Songs Volume 1

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My first ‘adult’ ornament. 1980. It’s always the third ornament on the tree after my mother’s surprise ornaments. From longtime friend Diane Statham.
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New ornament this year from ‘first friend’ and blood sister. Most call her Terri but she’ll always be Leslie to me, a gift.

No big secret that I enjoy traditions especially when it comes to holidays. Traditions are what keep us connected. Some years I’ve considered getting new ornaments but those decorations are a walk with friends. Priceless.

Today, as I made Christmas Eve gumbo, surrounded by these ornaments, waiting for family to arrive I remembered the wonder and delight I felt as an expectant mother.  Not unlike Mary and Joseph’s expectant waiting.

Waiting in the midst of traditions. Gifts of grace. Reminders of blessings traveled and will continue to travel in peace and joy.

Merry Christmas!