No Medium Required.

   I would love to meet the Long Island Medium.           I have this fleeting fantasy.....We pass each other in the grocery store, or the WalMart, or on the GreenWay. She stops, and gasps -" I have a message for you - from your Mother". The fantasy starts to unravel there, because - really - what would I want her to say? At the end of the day, I think I would just want to feel her presence - if only for an instant.

   Twice, in the last few weeks - I have been so blessed - and it didn't even require the Medium.

A couple of weeks ago, I spied a beautiful, familiar face on the Bread Aisle of the Teeter. (My Mother had 3 best friends - 2 of whom are still living). Martha,  - white hair cut in a modern, sassy style, eyes still twinkling with health and vigor - a bright jacket that forced you to take a second glance, was checking out the Pepperedge Farm. We were so happy to see each other, and as she hugged me, I allowed myself, for just a moment, to relax into a Mothers embrace. (I am sure Martha's daughter, my friend Alice, would not mind sharing). If she noticed that my head stayed on her shoulder a smidge longer than necessary - that I was the last one to end the hug - she didn't let on. We chatted about my children, her children...inevitably, the talk turned to my Mom, gone these many, many, many years.

   Martha's last words ensured my family would eat a hodge podge of  leftovers that night - sent me fleeing from the store, so I could cry my tears in the privacy of my old HippieChick van. "Your Mother would be so proud of you......she loved you so."

Today, leaving a luncheon honoring a retiring co-worker, I ran into Dot, the other remaining BFF. At 90 years old, she still drives a sleek, elegant car, and wields her rolling walker like a Five Star General. "I have something for you in my car - it has been there for months", she said. Together, we crossed the Club parking lot, she opened the door, and handed me a bag...inside was one of Mama's framed pen and inks. "This has hung on the wall of the Mountain House for all of these years. I wanted you to have it".  Once again, I allowed myself the luxury of a Mother's embrace....and Dot was content to hug me longer than propriety decreed. Her parting words...."Your Mother would be so proud of you.....she loved you so". Identical to those Martha had  spoken days before. My friends were waiting in the car, and I hurried to get in - head down, clutching the little bag with the treasure inside. Thankfully, the Church is just a block from the Club, so we were there in a jiff. I managed to close myself in my office without making a public spectacle,   but once seated at my desk, my tears bathed the little picture - the one I remember my Mother drawing, so long ago.

  I have felt such a longing lately for my Mother....for a hug, some words of encouragement.....a little nurturing to make up for 37 years of fending for myself....

   In 8 months and 13 days (But who's counting, and God willing) I will have lived one day longer than my Mama. As a grieving 18 year old, I constantly thought about that day....when I would be older than She ever got to be....55....it seemed so old....so unattainable....so unthinkable - that I could survive for so long with no Mother. But I have, and often it has been a hard scrabble, punishing journey...one that has left me in dire need of some non existant tender care.

  God has often shown up for me in unusual ways, during the course of my life. I do not believe it was coincidence, that these two women uttered the exact same words.  He sent me a Mother's embrace when I needed it most...through those that were closest to my Mom...I felt her presence - for a moment, I smelled Jean Nate perfume and Jergens Original scent lotion....I  saw her eyes in the eyes of her besties - the softness of their age worn cheeks was the softness of hers....her love, channeled through the decades - like a note in a bottle - sent long ago, for a future time. 

Message received.

Thanks be to God for the Blessings of this day.

A "Go to" kind of day

   It was a moment that hung  suspended in terror and mortification. A moment where time slowed to such an extent that I found myself able to relive the entire day up to that point, and still have ample time to cover up and holler.....loudly.
   This Tuesday began at a slightly slower pace than normal....Babiest Girl was home sick (She is, thankfully, feeling better), and Baby Girl - owing to the three day weekend didn't have to be back on campus until after lunch. So there was Coffee AND breakfast....time to fuss over hair and makeup, love on the sick one, pick up new contacts for Baby G AND make it to campus early, allowing us to grab one more cup of coffee (At the coolio shop that I refer to as "The place formerly known as Friars Cellar", which is what it was in the golden days of my carefree youth). One last hug for my beautiful growndy up girl and I was off towards the Dinner Theatre for my Matinee.
   Now, it is not a long drive - a straight shot down the thoroughfare, and a left before you hit the underpass. It was however just long enough for the Coffee to work it's number on my bladder. By the time I parked the car and grabbed my theatre bag, I was doing "the dance"....which is, as I have stated before, a direct result of three kids born, and not enough Kegels done. I climbed the steep back stairs to the actors quarters and dashed to my dressing room which, mercifully has an attached restroom. Quick as a wink, I had dropped my bag at my table, flipped the light switch and locked the door. Seeing as how it is a show day, I was forced to wrestle with heavy spandex tights AND a set of Spanx (Too much info, I know...but it sets up the visual). I arose the victor, and.....finally. Whew....I made it.
   Now let me pause here to acquaint you with the layout of the little bathroom. Toilet tucked in a tight corner, sink in front...and a funny little window, which allows you a lovely view of the sky and the tin roof on the Theatre bellow. I always feel like I am in a tower when I am in that bathroom....one that I have made use of for over 30 years. Come to think of it, it is the most constant "facility"of my Fiftysome years. But I digress.....Imagine my shock, as I looked out that high tower window from my perch on the throne and saw, not sky nor tin roof....but MAN!....gazing into said tower window. I'm guessing he was too bumfuzzled to look away, having witnessed my tug of war with my foundation garments...so there we were - face to face...frozen in terror and mortification. My scream loosened his feet, and now HE was the one doing the dance...scampering away as if the roof were lava. It is a good thing I was in the appropriate place, or I would have needed to do laundry before the First Act.
  This is just a guess, but I am thinking that poor man might be reconsidering his choice of profession (he was a roofer) right about now, because....let's face it - there are just some things you can't unsee. My friend, acting partner and Boon Companion helped me assure our future privacy....There is now an old cork board propped up against our beautiful little tower window- wedged in place by a huge water jug. Obscuring the beautiful sky, but ensuring the safety and privacy of the "go"......

Glittery Coffee

   It's been a rough week.....I have a bunion....AND a hammer toe - just starting to make themselves known. John's car died - really dead. Thanksgiving fell this year on the second anniversary of my nephews' passing. My visiting Sister In Law wound up in our local hospital on the day after Thanksgiving, and was their guest for a few days while they divested her of a multiplicity of kidney stones. Just last night, Baby Girl broke three toes while babysitting.....
  When the alarm rang this morning at 6:00 a.m., for the briefest of moments I considered ignoring it and burying myself so far under the covers that Jethro Gibbs and the whole NCIS team wouldn't be able to find me. But there is no rest for the wicked, or for Children's Ministers either. This was the first Sunday of Advent AND a Lolapalooza day. Lolapalooza occurs on the Fifth Sunday - it gives the Sunday School teachers a well deserved break, and provides a chance for me to teach the kids....grade K - 5. It's kind of a mini Vacation Bible School - we have a lesson, craft, game, and a snack - all centered around the theme of the day. It will come as no surprise that today's lesson was the building of a Nativity. As we were gathered around the table, enjoying our appropriately themed snack of popcorn and Little Debbie Christmas Tree Brownies, the talk turned to pets. Baby Girl (who was serving as my assistant) mentioned how fat our CrackHouse Puppy is. Challenged by the assemblage to show just how fat, Baby Girl drew on the board - a very round Puppy Dog. A second grade boy jumped up to complete the drawing....pointy ears, glaring eyes, and a mouth full of sharp teeth turned my sweet puppy into a nasty gremlin dog. While we were discussing the merits of Canine Facial Expressions, another precious second grader  stole to the board, picked up the chalk and made a quick scribble....whereupon she slyly announced to the room that she had fixed him good and well....the puppy was now "a boy". For a moment, I was unsure as to her meaning, until I noticed the additional appendage....yep - it was a boy alright. What exactly does one say to that?  "OK, time to clean up", that's what!!
   As we were over by the craft area, I grabbed my coffee cup to take a much needed fortifying swig. Fortunately, I looked down just before the cup reached my lips...."Blergh....there is GLITTER in my coffee", I moaned. (Yes.....there were glittering parts to our Nativity craft - what can I say? I am a big fan of glitter!) As one, my little charges shouted "oohh - let me see", so I put the cup down on the table for them to take a gander. "COOL!"....."That's so pretty"......."I've never seen THAT before"....They were thrilled with the glittery coffee. Where I only saw a disaster, they saw the beauty, the whimsy, the art. They laughed at the sight, and danced from the sheer novelty of the moment. It was then, that the students became the teacher....reminding me that the quality of your life has more to do with your perspective than your circumstance. A fine lesson to be sure, on this first Sunday of Advent....."And a little Child shall lead them.....".......Thus endeth the lesson.

All Good Gifts Around Us....

   The first time I sang this anthem, I was pregnant with Babiest Girl....16 years ago - the Sunday before Thanksgiving. "All good gifts around us are sent from Heaven above. So thank the Lord, Oh thank the Lord for all his Love...." The words are familiar and simple....the melody and harmonies are haunting and soul stirring. I have never sung this piece, that it did not reduce me to tears - today was no exception.
    The tears have actually flown freely in the last 24 hours.....First - it was a YaYa Weekend, so there were tears of joyful greetings, tears from laughter, and tears from worries and troubles shared. Sadly, I had to leave the Gathering early, to get to the Theatre for the final performance of my current Show. At Intermission, the Night Manager came to my dressing room, and told me I had a friend in the Audience. The name she offered rang no bells, and I momentarily feared for the state of my stellar memory. A tugging began in the back of my mind, as I thought - that must be a married name. I grabbed up my phone, and started going through my FaceBook friend list - and then....NO.....it couldn't be. My Childhood friend.....my Neighborhood Bestie.....how many hours had we spent, playing in the creek, skating in her carport.....putting on plays in my room, playing Monopoly, praying for snow days.....
     I could hardly wait for the show to be over. Would I recognize her? Suddenly, her sweet face was in front of me...unchanged over the years. More tears, shrieks  of joy and disbelief....her dear smile transporting me to long ago and far away.
    This morning, surprise tears overtook me, as I learned that a young woman I have long loved had been named a Deacon in our Church. I taught this girl in Sunday School, Vacation Bible School and Children's Choir. As she grew to a Teenager, she became my babysitter, and as she grew to Adulthood, she became my friend. I had to lock myself in my office to cry tears of happiness and wonder, as I bore witness to the Circle of Life.
   Which is how I found myself in the Choir Loft at the 11:00 service singing through my tears..."All good gifts around us are sent from Heaven above. So thank the Lord, Oh thank the Lord for all his Love". In that 8 pages of music I saw myself as a little girl, long hair flying as I twirled around a carport in my new boot skates.....I felt myself pregnant with my last child, happy and wistful...I was a naturally raven haired 20 something (no hair dye required), walking through campus with my friends....I was a MidLife Wife, astonished by how blessed life can be - even when it is bone crushingly difficult....
   I lifted my voice in Thanksgiving....grateful to know that you can dance in the rain, mindful that I have been granted my hearts desire - a family to love and call my own. Grateful for the view from MidLife - where I can pause, and see the tapestry, woven by my years on this earth.....see the beautiful smiles of old friends, cry tears of love and remembrance, and hold hope for the sunshine tomorrow. So, thank the Lord......for all his love.....Blessed Be.

The Actor's Life for Me.....

   It is 8:00 p.m., and I find myself in the kitchen, running the water, trying to coax my bladder into releasing that which it is designed to hold.....it's just been that kind of a day. It started off well enough - Special K and Cheese Toast for breakfast. 2 Cups of coffee, Babiest girl out the door mostly on time to school. A couple of loads of laundry, and I too was out the door - headed to the next town over, where I had a matinee at the Dinner Theatre.
   I believe I have mentioned before, that one of the perks of working Dinner Theatre is the meal that accompanies your paycheck. As I set my plate down at the table and joined my cast mates for lunch, I caught the tail end of the news of the morning....plumbing issues. A few toilets non functioning (unless you call overflowing functioning), but not to worry, the plumber was on his way. By the time I shimmied into my Act one Costume, the entire Women's Restroom was closed due to....ummm....malfunctions. The Men's room hurriedly became the Women's, and the Men came upstairs to the Actors Restroom (Theatre folk are resourceful, you know?)....that would be about the time I scared my bladder into submission. After having Three Children, AND not listening to my Doctor about the importance of the Kegel exercise, I find myself in need of the facilities.....often. Not entirely possible today....which is why I had prayer meeting with my poor aforementioned bladder before I stepped foot onstage.
   About ten minutes into the show, out of the periphery of my left eye, I saw some sort of commotion in the audience. (The theatre is in the round - in the square, actually, and the stage is surround on all four sides by patrons). As I turned, following my blocking, I saw the sweet little lady with whom I had chatted in the buffet line, slumped over her table in a dead faint. As people rushed to tend to her, amid mumbles and rumbles, the action on stage continued. I had a fortuitous exit, and used my time off stage to ask about halting the show. The lobby was quite a scene....managers on the phone to 911, a family member pacing and telling me that he thought she was "gone". Another bemoaning the fact that the lady had no pulse....you get the picture. We managed to get through the scene, and then paused while the paramedics entered the Theatre to tend to the still unresponsive woman. To our great surprise, the woman we feared deceased was revived, and walked out to the waiting ambulance. (She later returned to the theatre, to sit in the lobby for the remainder of the show).
  Toilets continued to fall to blockage, one by one, until none remained. After a quick costume change at intermission, and another stern warning to the old bladder, we finished the show...amazed that we were all still standing.
,   As I left the Theatre, on my way to yet another town to pick up Babiest Girl from the Fancy Pants School, I realized I needed coffee.....badly. So, I stopped at the Sheetz before I got on the Highway, where I added a little Irish Cream flavoring to my Dark Roast -  I deserved those extra calories after THAT show! Standing in a very long line to pay, I was happy to hear one of my favorite songs cue up on the Musak......"SHOUT!" You know, of Animal House Fame? The very same song that I broke my wrist to, at my Best Friends Wedding (but that is another story).  As to what happened next, my only excuse is that I was still in Actor mode....you know....we dance to the preshow music in the Lobby, dance to the scene change music in the Lobby, dance to the curtain call music......I just zoned out for a minute. Imagine my surprise and extreme mortification, when I realized I was dancing. Not just tapping my feet, but DANCING in the Pay Line at the Sheetz.....during Rush Hour....holding a very hot large Coffee. I must have been pretty good, because by the time I got to the front of the line, Head down, trying to hide my blushing face behind my newly short hair, my coffee was free!!
   20 minute drive, Babiest Girl secured....another 20 minutes back to the old hometown, dinner to fix and eat...dishes to wash....And that is how I find myself, at 8:00 p.m., trying to assure my Bladder that it is O.K. to.....Let it Go! I believe that it must be suffering from a wicked case of stage fright.....terrified to function after such a day.....oh....wait.....gotta run......fast!!

BLUE

  Out of the blue....on a day I was blue.....came a bowl that was blue. Delicate and finely crafted, it arrived at my office this morning, in a box marked "Personal" and "Fragile". It was a gift from my friend's family. My friend that passed away in July.      
               
                      Fred.

   Baby Girl has asked me why I haven't written about Fred. I couldn't. It was too Personal. I was too Fragile.
   Fred was my first love. We met in College. Oddly enough, we had grown up in the same town - his youngest sister was my childhood friend, yet our paths never crossed. I was shy, quiet, naive and sad.
He was Fred......Unbelievably Handsome, Wickedly Funny, Incredibly Talented, and sad. My Mother had just died.....He was just out of the Service.....Off again, On again, after a couple of years we split for good - knowing that the sad places in each of our souls only fed off of the other, making us worse. Amazingly enough, we were able to put the Romance to the side, and over the course of time, he became one of my closest, most enduring friends. I am blessed with a Husband who was never threatened by this friendship...John liked Fred too, and he respected the bond that had been built in our almost 35 years together.
    Last spring, Fred fell ill.  Cancer. It was quick, and brutal, and relentless. He gave me the greatest gift ever, by trusting me with his illness....his hospitalizations....his decline....his pain.....his Funeral.
The term Pole Axed may have been invented just for that day last July, when I learned that he had slipped away in the early morning hours, and then shortly thereafter, when I found out that he wanted ME to plan his funeral...to speak the last words over his beautiful, troubled, wonderful, burdened life.
Those days took more out of me than any since December of 1978, when my Mother died, and I still feel their effects.
   It is Autumn....a time of change....when nature prepares itself for the onslaught of Winter. I feel like I am entering my Autumn. Gone are the halcyon days of the summer of life, when your family was new, your Children were small, and the future stretched before you like gifts under the Christmas Tree in the first week of December.
I am a MidLife Wife...bandying terms about like "downsizing", "Streamlining", "simplifying" - watching my Children....my Young Adults, one by one look to their futures - while I gaze, from the heights of Autumn, back at the seasons past.
    So on this day....out of the blue, when I am blue, gazing at a bowl that is blue, I will remind myself that Autumn and Winter are my favorite time of year....the air is bracing, the sky is brilliant. There are festivals and Celebrations - sacred Holidays and beautifully wrapped gifts. There is adventure and coziness, and gathering of loved ones. If my life should run parallel to the seasons, there is much goodness yet to anticipate.
  The Blue Bowl sits on my kitchen table, surrounded by the last of my red Zinnias,  Beeswax candles and feathers. Every time I look at it, I will remember Fred, and his family. I will remember the gifts and lessons that He left me with....the Girlfriends he reconnected me with after more than 30 years - the YaYa's.....the reminder that life is a gift - fleeting and rare.....Personal.....Fragile.... delicate, finely crafted, and an object of great beauty.

The YaYa Nation

   She sat on the floor.....drying her long black hair, reading as she did so. If it weren't for the grey dusting at the roots of her hair, and the fact that she was reading her emails, not a romance novel, it could have been 30 years ago. For a brief few days, this precious girl was once again my roommate, shaking her head and calling me "Bells".
   8 Women - 4 days at the Beach. 7 Theatre Majors, 1 Music Major. 2 sets of former roommates. 30 some years stood between us and The University of North Carolina at Greensboro - our common denominator.
   We have been separated by time, distance, neglect and circumstance. Some of us were very close, some of us were acquaintances, some were strangers, but in the magic of the ocean air and the smoke of a bonfire, bonds were made and renewed.
   There, in the embrace of a clapboard beach house, we spent our days and nights in laughter and tears....often simultaneously. The Laughter of the variety that makes you bend at the waist and pound the table - the kind that leaves your cheeks sore and your stomach aching - The Tears of the cleansing, healing variety. Suddenly the mundane chores of cooking and cleaning, became a dance - choreographed by the Master Dancer Himself....golden and organic.
 Coffee, eggs and cinnamon rolls....Scallops and spinach, Shrimp and Grits....Country Ham and Bagels, all were elevated to gourmet cuisine when enjoyed by the sea, at a table large and warm enough for all. Small private chats...group Gab fests.....shared remembrances and an unburdening of souls. Games, Photo sessions, shell gathering, movie watching, the crafting of crowns...days and nights were filled with a joyful purpose of spirit.
  Yesterday morning, as we shared our last meal together we found ourselves the Audience as the Creator gifted us with an incomparable show. Dolphins appeared - following a Shrimp Boat. Not the two or three Dolphins that we are all familiar with seeing at the Beach, but 30, 40 or more - too many to count, undulating in the wake of the boat - churning up the water with their presence. Pelicans filled the sky, and shared it with multitudes of Giant Dragonflies and more Butterflies than I have ever seen in one place...orange ones, yellow ones, gracefully riding the wind. The Dolphins must have eaten their fill, because before we knew it, playtime commenced. Leaping, twisting and flipping, they treated us to a show better than any ever seen at SeaWorld or Marineland. Momentarily transfixed, we soon broke into Gasps and shouts and laughter....
   What a gift. Not only the Dolphins, but the entire weekend. A time such as I have never experienced.....a time to reflect on the past....a time to embrace the present.....a time to welcome the future. We are the YaYa's.....warrior women - tired but not broken....older but not old.....searching, but not lost.....individuals, but never alone.

 My friend Kathryn used this Thomas Wolfe quote to describe our time together...."Peace fell upon her spirit. Strong comfort and assurance bathed her whole being. Life was so solid and splendid and so good." So let it be said.....so let it be done......may it always be so.