Celebrate Freedom!

For me, freedom is the ability to direct my own life through managing my own thoughts and actions. It's knowing that I can make my life better in a moment by the thoughts I choose to think and the feelings I choose to focus on, and finally, the actions I choose to take.

What is Freedom for You?

Am I Really Looking?

Dad and I found this seagull kite in Sedona last fall and bought it for Uncle Bart. The first thing he did after we gave it to him was take it out and attach it to his golf cart.  At first, the little seagull dipped and twisted like a drunken sailor and we laughed and laughed as the neighbors drove past or stood in their driveways and shook their heads.  Later, he went out again and drove up and down the street in front of the house so Gretchen could take a picture of Jonathan to send me.  He really made sure we knew how much he loved this silly gift.  Now that he's gone, I'm cherishing this memory of my brother's good heart.

It's funny, it's often not until after a person is gone, that we come to fully appreciate the little things they did in a way we never quite got around to while they were alive and here with us.  Why do we wait until they die to realize how precious they really were?  What are we waiting for?

Today, I'm wondering what kinds of things I might be forgetting to appreciate in the people I love.  Am I remembering to really look?  Do I have eyes that see?
Thornton Wilder captured it well in Emily's cry as she tried to re-experience the joy of  her twelfth birthday from the other side of the veil, 

 " Oh earth, you're too wonderful for anyone to realize you . . .

 Do human beings ever realize life while they live it?"

Dear Wynette

When I read your comment on my last post about Gavin, my heart broken wide open--just as it does every single time I hear of another mother thrust into this unimaginable land the two of us now inhabit.  You've joined a club to which you never in your dreams would have imagined you would belong--and you're now asked to survive every parent's worst nightmare. I want to reach out to you, put my arms tenderly around you, hold you, and whisper, "I know.  I know.  I know.  I am so sorry."  How I wish I could.  Thanks for reaching out.  I now how hard that can be.  I WISH I had discovered your post earlier today--as I'm just now racing out the door and really haven't any time to say all that I want to say to you right now.  So, for now, I'm going to post something that I wrote a couple of months ago to another mother I met on a grief forum/support group I belong to.  I encourage you to visit this site:  beyondindigo.com  .  The pain you're in is as deep as a mother's Love, and as precious and unique as is your relationship with your beautiful son.   You may find some understanding and comfort in the stories of other mothers who have posted on the site.   I'll write more tonight or tomorrow.  Until then, you'll be in my prayers.  I promise.
Dear Cory's Mom,

I am sad to think of another mother out there grieving over a beautiful boy gone from her life. I am so sorry and send you love and understanding.
We too have lost a son, our only son--by best buddy in this world. On June 17th (Gav passed away on Father's Day) it will be two years, so I've been through at least one anniversary and am coming up on the second. I still think about Gavin many times during every day, but I do that with my living children, too. That's just what mom's do, isn't it? 
As far as anniversaries go, this is what I've learned: At first, we are aware of how many days it' been since they left us, then as time moves on, our awareness of 'that' date stretches out to weeks. More time passes, and I find I'm still aware of the 17th of every month, and try to go a little easier on myself, take a little more time to remember that I'm still healing and acknowledge that. Anniversaries are important. They give me time to remember to honor myself as someone who has experienced a great loss.

On the one year anniversary of Gav's death, we made sure that my daughter, his sister, was visiting with her husband and little boys. We had lots of pictures of him out and we talked about things that he loved and the things that we loved about him. We shared a good meal. We had a family prayer. I had a big bouquet of balloons and we took them out into the front yard and whispered messages 'for Unkie' into them, one at a time, and then released them and watched them float up to heaven. (I know, environmentally stupid--but it's what we needed to do, so I released them with prayers that no creatures would be hurt.) As I watched each grandson whisper his messages into his balloon and send it heavenward, I felt a little more of my pain release. It was good to hear them speak his name and to realize that as we continued to do these types of mini-memorials with them, his memory would live on in their hearts.

I just recently lost my brother Bart, the other 'Golden Boy' in my life. His birthday is coming up on the 21st of this month. His widow and I are going to fly over to Hawaii to share this time together. We plan to visit the bay where my Bart and Gavin anchored before they sailed together to the mainland. We plan to picnic on the beach there and find a beautiful spot to throw a couple of leis into the ocean. We'll sing Happy Birthday and have cake and let our little grandsons blow out the candles. We'll do these things because they're uniquely significant to both Gavin and Bart's lives--and to us. I told my sis that she can cry all day if that's what she feels like doing. Nobody's going to hurry her, judge her, or tell her that "Bart wouldn't want you to cry." (I think that kind of talk is BS. Sorry, but I know Bart would want her to heal, and when we lose someone, tears are a part of healing.)

Anyway, these are the kinds of things I've found to be helpful. You'll find your own--those things that will be significant to your love for Cory. But I encourage you to use the day to celebrate his life on that day. The kinds of things that will act as meaningful reminders to those of you who love him that Cory lives on in your hearts, that he will NOT be forgotten, that it's OK to speak his name and remember his life. And it's OK to cry when you need to.

Now there's just one more thing that I need to post for me. On Saturday, more than 18 months since Gav's death, we finally cleaned out his car. We've found someone who needs it and we're giving it to her in his name. Afterwards, I stood in the laundry room and hugged a shirt that Gav had left in his trunk . . . how long ago? Long enough that his smell was missing. I searched for it, buried my face in that shirt, tried to imagine it there. It wasn't. But I did feel him in the thin, smooth cotton against my cheek, and I held it tight to my chest and cried--hot, yearning tears. I don't resist them when they come. In many ways, they're part of what I have left of my boy, and it's good to feel them on my face, taste their salt on my lips.
If, as a fellow grieving mother, I could leave you with one message it would be this: Your longing for Cory won't ever leave you. You're going to learn to accommodate it and 'live around' it, but it will stay with you until the day you die and the two of you can hold each other again. Not everyone around you will understand this. That's OK. Hopefully they won't ever get their turn to understand. But for you, it's important that you to know that it will always be there. And that doesn't mean that you're weird or deficient in any way-- You're simply (and significantly) a mother who has lost a child. Anniversaries will come and go. Some will be harder than others. You'll learn to have joys--even though you still miss him, and you'll learn to get on with a good life--even while you still miss him. But please, always give yourself permission to do those things that honor this truth: He is your son, and he is gone, and you miss him. And its right that you do.

Hope some of this helps a little. I'll keep you in my prayers. I know I couldn't do any of this without the Lord.
Love,
Annie, Gavin's Mom

Still missing you, Gav.

(Oh, how we would have loved this song, this video.)

I slept with your teddy bear last night. It wasn't enough.

Still missing you, my boy. 

All day. 

Every hour. 

All night. 

Every night.

Every rain, every snow, every misty morning.

Every bit of news of every old friend.

Every new flower or birdsong or fresh young leaf .

Every hike, every wave, every vista.

Every sunrise, every sunset.

Every moment of sun on my skin.

Or breeze on my face.

Every old song.  Every new one.

I think of you.

It all wants to be shared.

 With you.

Accentuates the loneliness.

Without you.

 So I slept with Gummy last night.

Again. 

He wasn't enough.

But you were worth it. 

Every hour, every day, every night. 

All of it.

All of it.

All of it.

I'm considering adopting

 . . . Mr. Jiggs from the London Zoo.  

Do you think he'd clean and organize my drawers and closets too?

Photo and story link:  National Geographic

Dreadfully sorry.

Dearest Raleigh, Cardon, Lincoln and Cole,

     Mum says I'm to tell you she's dreadfully sorry, but with jet lag and the laundry to be done, not to mention bills to be paid and the lou pump out again . . . well, we're just going to have to wait a little longer for pics from our trip.  She did promise me that next week, she'd hop right on it though.  With pictures from London (including more of me way up in the sky! howdya like that, huh?) plus photos of me riding the Tube, eating pancakes in Amsterdam, museum hopping in Paris and bicycling 'round the French countryside, well, as for me, I'm thinking it'll all be worth the wait after all, don't you think?

Till then, so sorry to disappoint, but what's a bear to do?

Ta ta for now,

Paddington 

p.s.  Oh! And we've also had a fluffy tailed squirrel at the bird feeder, PLUS a nest of baby robins outside Mum's shower window.  I'll be lying in wait with the camera for shots of all this excitement.  It's so good to be home!  Oh, how I wish you were here. -PB

Previews

No blogging time today.  But some fun stuff is coming.

Cheerio!

Harrod's

(Just learning how to use flickr, so this mosaic isn't exactly what I was hoping for . . . I wish Matt and Heather weren't all the way over on the other side of the pond--I'd have called them this morning for a tutorial.  I think there's a way to post these so you can click on each individually to enlarge?  I feel lucky even to have broken the code on how to make this stinking, not-what-I-had-in-mind mosaic though.  It'll just have to do for now.  I've only got about 10 minutes left of my 90 mins of internet usage here my hotel room.  If you're sensing a hint of technology frustration here, you're right on the mark.)  

Harrod's is a favorite stop for me while in London.  My sweetest memories of this fantastically fantasmic store are from my first visit to London with Natalie.  Our enchantment on discovering the luxury bathrooms for the first time comes to mind.  (Yesterday, Greg had the camera with him in the Men's room or I'd have shot them, too.  But it's just as well.  We're now 10 years since and they're not quite what they used to be.  In all fairness here: time has taken it's toll on me too.)  

Harrod's food courts are still breathtaking.  Greg and I first sat down at the Caviar Bar but changed our minds after a quick look at the menu which announced $425 servings. For lunch.  How to choose?  Fresh sushi? The seafood bar? We settled on Harry's deli where we each ate chicken noodle soup and 1/2 sandwich for 50 pounds ($70 US) for the two of us.  I've shot Greg's soup, lox and bagel here.  My Reuben was a wonder.  No Russian dressing (ala Carnegie Deli in New York), but I soothed my disappointment with a dollop of Raspberry Horseradish relish.  I know, at first I was incredulous, then curious, surprised, then enchanted.  We wandered, literally wide-eyed,  through the Confectionary surrounded by miles and miles of exquisitely displayed chocolates, y chocolat.  I did my best to resist these Sirens, but finally succumbed to a creamy, mouth-melting chocolate and hazelnut praline.  (My pants got tighter just smelling this little delight.) The photo of those red currants in Produce needs to be billboard size to give you the same feeling they gave me.  Here among art gallery-quality displays of vibrant fruits and vegetables, I found exquisite pomegranates for a mere 6 pounds, a piece ($8 US).  I almost bought one--they were perfect.  On to the perfumery.  Here, the 6+ foot tall floral arrangements were impossible to capture without a wide angle lens--there were at least 40 of them, balanced atop each perfume counter, I imagined some lavish, royal wedding.  I settled for close-ups of the Calla lillies.  If the pictures above were whole, you'd see one of the dozens of impeccably dressed sales women standing with here with her arms folded, ready to politely remind me that I am NOT allowed take pictures here.  So we were off to Men's furnishings, where Greg found Dior ties at L100 a pop.  Oh, and I wish you could really see the opulence of the Egyptian escalator with it's uncharacteristically quiet shrine to Princess Diana and Dodi.  

Natalie, Natalie, I wish you were here! 

A good thought

Every relationship--husband and wife, parent and child, best friends, colleagues--is dependent on trust.  It is not possible to have a relationship with someone you cannot trust.  The only thing you can have with someone you can't trust is a strategy.    Sheri Dew,  Saying It Like It Is

Photo Credit:  Nicolas Moulin

A Magnificent Milestone

Our beautiful, smart, talented, tenacious, loving, generous, and truly gifted Jenny will graduate from the University of Utah on May 8th. It's been a long road with many unexpected detours, but she has determinedly stuck with her dream to graduate and we are so, so proud of her. Jenny, when I saw this video, it made me think of you. If you can accomplish all that you've just accomplished, you can do anything! 

JENNY, you are a ROCK STAR ! 

and I CAN NOT WAIT 

to see what you'll make happen next!

I think we should all meet here this summer for lunch.

Un peu de FUN.

Heather and Stephanie, I believe this post's especially for the two of you - and Cole and Cole.  I'm needing a little break from French practice.  My head is starting to hurt.   So, I wandered around the l'internet for a while and ran into this fun site: robotscrapyard's photostream  (yes, strange name, but if you love 'Uglies' you're gonna love it) on flickr.  It was just the fun diversion I needed.  (My studies must be working, I'm having a very hard time writing in English.  Not to infer that I'd be doing any better en français.  My poor little brain isn't sure where it lives right now.)  D'accord. Mon détournement est terminé.  Je retourne à  mes études.

Whirlwind

Last Thursday morning when I left for the airport, my front yard looked like this:

24 hours later, this was my "front yard" . . . 

Came in on the the red-eye early this morning and (in just six days) my front yard now looks like this:

Snail's Pace

What a world we share.

You, me, these snails.

Jen captured them 

(with her cell phone!)

As she walked to work 

This morning.

With a click

They shot to the sky

And landed in my computer.

Now

Through more magic 

I don't understand

Here they are

In yours.

While I'm out . . .

I'm going to be on the road (well, in the air too) for the next few weeks, so I'm going to let the old blog lie fallow for a bit. I'll try to post now and then from wherever in the world I might be . . .  Stick around, it'll be fun to see where I turn up. Maybe I'll find myself a Garden Gnome costume and pose for pics here and there.  A n y w a y . . .

Since I won't be an everyday kinda gal here on the Skinny Link for a while, I thought I'd post a fun little everyday something to keep you busy while I'm gone. (Devil's workshop and all that, you know.) This is really fun. You're going to love it. The Norfolk Botanical Garden in Norfolk, Virginia, in cooperation with a local television station, has been video tracking the nesting, laying, hatching, and feeding of a clutch of 

B A B Y  E A G L E S ! 

And for the benefit of Mr. Kite--and all of us out here in Internet Space, they have created a site which allows us to follow this miracle, LIVE!! (No! Really? Yes! Really! How cool is that?) I'll post a few pictures of what y'all have missed so far, and when you're done sighing over these, you can go HERE and watch the live action. (During daylight hours, natch. ) Have fun, and Abisynia!

For the past several days, I've been watching Edgar and Lenore build a nest outside my bathroom window. It's been fun to watch the two of them work together. Lenore seems to do a lot of supervising, but she also finds and brings in building materials for the project, too. Actually, the nest they've been working on was much more compact and tidy than what you see here. . .
This morning, I heard some very loud, urgent birdsong coming from the building site. My camera was downstairs (darn), but the call was so frantic, I skipped the camera and ran in to see what was up. There was Edgar perched on the side of the hummingbird feeder, his tiny talons grasping the chain, chirping his little heart out--in alarm.  It was immediately clear why. A big fat robin has taken over his and Lenore's nest! I watched helplessly as Edgar tried to scare him away, but it was no use. The robin must be four or five times Edgar's size. I wish there was something I could do.  Hopefully, he and Lenore will still have time to get another nest built before their eggs are ready to lay!
I hate to be judgmental, but old Mr. Robin appears to be a bit of a slob. And a jerk. Why don't you just go and find your own nesting site, mistah!

My little Brit.

This is our--Hawaiian born--Raleigh.  Delightful little chap, isn't he?  I'm not quite sure who 'Charlie' is, but his name seems to be integral to the production of this accent.

The Greatest Gift

I got sunshine--on a cloudy day

House hunting.

So, since Edgar and Lenore have been house hunting, 

I thought I'd put out this lovely model for their consideration.   

It's just a one bedroom, but it's in a great neighborhood--

just outside my family room window.  

(And, they can listen to conference!)  

They're still thinking about it. 

 

I'll let you know if they make an offer.