Object Lessons

Not long ago, my friend Penny and I visited a former workmate who was in Hospice.

Her name was Mary. Meg, her sister, sent me a message on a Sunday morning letting me know that Mary was very ill. So, the next afternoon, Penny and I went to sit with her for a little while. The transition had already begun and she passed away the next day.

Too young. Too soon.

I hadn’t seen Mary in years. Her job led to travels in Asia. I had invited her to make a pit stop with me when I lived overseas but our schedules never meshed.

That’s not why I am posting.

A week later I was clearing out some of Mom’s books at my childhood home. Not because I have OCD or anything but I check EVERY single book before putting it in a pile. I can find significance in the least little thing. Like the funeral card of my cousin Terese used as a bookmark in a story with the title “Family” in it.

Anyway, I grabbed a book by Anna Quindlen (who I love) and cracked it open. This was her first novel called, “Object Lessons” and it’s a coming of age story. Young Maggie Scanlan trying to navigate object lessons from her grandfather.

And on the inside cover, in cursive, was Mary’s mother’s name. How did I know it belonged to Mary’s mother? Because Mary’s surname was unique. Not a “Smith” or “Jones.” Unique as in Lithuanian unique.

I just found it interesting. My Mom did not know her Mom. But this book is in my Mom’s cellar and I find it a week after Mary died?

I texted Meg with a photo of her mother’s handwriting and asked if she wanted the book to find its way back to her. I thought it was a sign.

Her response:

“I love that it’s out there floating around and definitely a sign. I’m so glad you shared with me! I have many of my moms books so pass this one along too. Who knows where it will pop up next? But, we know my sister is watching over us. 

I replied, “It’s like a message in a bottle.”

So, I took the book, filled with yellowed pages and object lessons, and read it.

And now I am passing it along.

The definition of an object lesson is using a physical object as a discussion piece for a lesson. Or a practical example of what you should or should not do in a particular situation.

I’ll use both.

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The Right Thing

Hope everyone is enjoying their weekend.

You probably think, when you see a few postings from me, that I have some time on my hands. Couldn’t be further from the truth. It’s how I operate. Do eighty things at once or nothing. Feast or famine.

I’ll keep this one brief.

Recently we have had to make decisions regarding family matters. I worry, in advance, like most of us. Pure waste of emotional head space.

I am awful when it comes to decisions. Mostly, I blame it on things out of my control. Like equal parts Libra and personality.

But when I do receive some guidance it can clear a pathway. Then I am able to go forward with my punch list. I transform into a methodical and efficient being.

The brick wall that needs to be knocked down is actually asking for help. Talking to others and utilizing outside resources-sometimes even from the spiritual realm!

We did this. And I was okay. But I was second guessing myself. Was I doing the right thing?

Well, I stopped for a quick visit to see my Dad last week. He is resting eternally in a Catholic Cemetery in my hometown. I don’t generally stick around-I am not one to pull up a chair and spend a maudlin afternoon with him-but I do stop by on a regular basis. Usually I say, “Hey, Dad” and give him an update. Let him know I miss him. Quick prayer and I am out of there.

Funny thing is when I ask him for a sign sometimes he delivers. In a big way. I’ve written about a couple of the other “signs”. Snow out of nowhere. Turkeys popping up behind a grave. Crazy.

All I’m usually looking for is, “Are you still with us?”or “Is there something more than this?”

So, I drove into the cemetery. No one around on this day. I am asking, “Dad, am I/are we doing the right things?”

Just as I am rounding the bend, a lone turkey appears, out of nowhere, on Dad’s block. Usually there is a flock of five. Today it was just the one bird.

The messenger.

I was able to grab a photo of this fella.

When leaving, heart a little lighter, I circled the block to see if I could find the turkey. I looked down all the rows. Twice.

Nowhere to be found.

But the message was not lost.

“Yeah, kid, you’re doing the right thing.”

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For Cynthia

Oh, my. I have not written since December. The first quarter of the new year has already passed by me!

Lately, I have been thinking of my youth. The strange thing is it focuses on the nature which surrounded me.

It is Spring time here. Truly amazing how everything is brown or gray and then, literally overnight, trees are budding, deer no longer camouflaged and flower bulbs pushing their way from the earth like newborns out of a birthing canal. Just like that.

I was sitting on my back patio at 5:30am this Saturday morning. All I can hear are the birds beginning their busy day.

Spring time is remarkable. I am making a conscious effort to appreciate the rows of daffodils in town. And everything else that demonstrates the imminent arrival of the season.

But what I remember from decades ago is my own backyard and neighborhood. It’s all I knew. You’ve heard the phrase, “All I really need to know I learned in kindergarten.” For me, everything I really needed to know was in my own backyard and neighborhood block.

There were forsythia bushes in the back of our house. I thought they were “For Cynthia” bushes. That’s me. Always putting a random consonant in where it just doesn’t belong. Started that nonsense at a very young age.

These bright yellow shrubs were one of the first signs of revival. Along with the delicate purple crocuses. It was the starting gun of more daylight. Warmth. Extraordinary play.

I’d grab the Hosta flower heads before they bloomed. Sort of like going crazy with bubble wrap. Play under the white flowering bush that seemed to be snowing when the small petals hit the ground. Feeling the soft down of the Pussy Willow branches. The scent of the Lilac bushes permeating the area. The neighbor’s Weeping Willow tree that turned into a sheltering fort. And sometimes its branches used as a lashing weapon for protection.

Lessons learned from my childhood backyard?

The importance of touching. Smelling. Seeing. Feeling. Hearing. Everything has a season. Fresh air is a wonderful gift. Playing outside and contorting yourself-the likes of which no gym will ever provide-does your body good. Being physical can work wonders for the mind. We can shed the clothes of the past season. Playing nicely with others is always a positive thing. There is a life cycle. A well tended garden can bring abundant joy. Natural surroundings are magical. Appreciation for new life. Utter sadness during fallow periods. And most importantly, the awareness that we have absolutely NO control over any season.

Today I am going to do my best to enjoy each day this Spring season is offering me. This is something I can actually control.

I wish you the same.

Do it for Cynthia.

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Purpose Driven Present

I have been visiting a nursing home each day in a nearby town. Just before Thanksgiving, in support of the residents, there were tables lined with many theme-styled gift baskets/hampers. Sports, pets, wines, spas, games and lottery were some of the themes. A person could buy tickets and then put their stubs in a tin can associated with the basket. The staff would pull the winning tickets on December 16th.

So, I thought I’d show my support. Bought a string of tickets and plunked them down in the various tins. Baskets that appealed to me.

Well, December 16th rolls around and I am making my daily visit. The receptionist sees me and exclaims, “Mary, you won!”

“TWO baskets!”

Funny, it just happened to be one of those days. God must have thought I needed a little pick-me-up.

One was a “Pot of Gold.”It had fifty scratch-off lottery tickets.

The other was a “Family Games” hamper.

I brought them home and under the Christmas tree they went. Thought it would be fun to have my adult children open them on December 25th.

Christmas morning arrives. After exchanging gifts, we all furiously scratched the fifty tickets. Some small winnings here and there. No big jackpots.

No one seemed interested in the “Family Games” basket so I opened it later in the day.

Table tennis, whiffle balls and more!

Wait, one box contained a juggling kit. Something new to learn! To hell with the on-line Latin course!

Donum cape! Seize the gift!

But what’s wrong with the following photo?

I cannot lie. The word “video” on the box didn’t capture my attention. Too intent on the contents.

I opened the box and noticed a few things not quite right. The leathery balls in bright, primary colors seemed to almost flake in my hands. I quickly put them back in the box before they disintegrated. There are already too many messes to clean in the house.

The other thing was that there was a musty smell coming from the box.

There was also a video. A video??? It’s been ages since we have had a VCR in this home.

So, yes, this particular box in the basket was quite dated.

Was I disappointed? No. I thought it was funny.

I totally understand how this happened. These were all gift baskets donated by friends and families of nursing home residents. While some folks went out and purchased items I am quite certain a few donors looked around their houses, attics and garages to happily contribute/compile a theme basket.

There are some lessons here.

If you are hanging on to something?

Let it go! Let it go! Let it go!

It does not even have to be a material, physical thing.

Give your gifts while they are fresh. Current. Useful. While you are fresh. Current. Useful.

Do not save your gift giving for a rainy day. Or a rainy year. Or a rainy decade.

It might not serve any purpose.

There is no time like the present. A purpose driven present.

Wishing you all a happy and healthy new year! A purpose driven 2023!

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Peace Be With You

Hello, there! It’s been awhile since I’ve written. My apologies. Started many times-so much to say! But, oh, that pesky side-tracking business.

Today I must! I will keep it short and simple.

This season and day can be difficult for folks. I know, not exactly a news flash.

Many families are experiencing the loss of a loved one. Some have plans that will not materialize.

Due to finances. Or a sudden bout with Covid. Foul weather. Illnesses. A host of other reasons.

Sometimes things do not work out as planned. And it can be utterly disappointing.

Instead of wishing away the day (because, in fact, by doing this you are wishing a day of YOUR life away) take the time to reflect or begin a new tradition.

Or just peacefully be.

Each and every day is truly a blessing. The older I become the more I realize it.

Don’t squander the gift.

Today, I wish you all a peaceful day.

Catch my hug.

Covid, finances, foul weather, gift, illnesses, peace, peacefully be, season

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58 Things

So, I recently began my fifty-ninth year on the planet. As my birthday approached I pondered on how to auspiciously mark the occasion.

What I did was this. I donated fifty-eight items. Things that I already had in my possession. I know it sounds big but it’s not. For me, anyway. And, going out on a limb here, probably not for you.

I have a lot going on at the moment, so probably putting more pressure on myself via lofty goals/challenges has a tinge of masochism to it. But that is how I roll. Remember when I did the 100 book a year challenge? Yeah, that was sick. That had me reading the last book on New Year’s Eve!!

Routinely, I cull the inventory in the home. I’m pretty good about it. But there is always more. When different charitable organizations (who pick up at your door!) ask for donations, I usually say, “Yes.” Because then I am totally committed. So, when they contacted me just before my birthday, it was a well-timed call.

I like giving. And I don’t like clutter. I also don’t want to leave messes for folks to clean up in my absence.

For my birthday, I gathered books already read, games not being played, supplies not utilized, clothes not being worn, vases, dishes, kitchen items and more. All things that someone else can use and enjoy.

Totally met my number of fifty-eight. Surpassed it actually. Easier than one would think.

Enjoy your weekend. Keep safe and healthy.

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Dandelion Wishes

Well, tomorrow is my birthday. And although tomorrow is not promised to any of us, if I wake up to greet another day then I will be fifty-eight years old. I did the math. It’s true. It feels strange to write that. The fifty-eight part.

I actually took a minute thinking about what I want for the special day.

I do not want cake. And I do not need candles to make wishes.

My preferred method of making wishes is blowing on dandelions that have gone to seed.

A month or so ago, I was chatting with the groundskeeper on the front lawn of a local church where I volunteer. Small world. His late Uncle was my English teacher in high school.

In the midst of the conversation I crouched down, plucked a dandelion and made my wishes. And in the process, most likely made this guy’s future work a bit more difficult by spreading more weeds.

He laughed and said, “I just knew you were going to do that.”

Now, I didn’t even know I was going to do that.

But I do it often.

When I visit my father’s grave there is always an errant dandelion.

I could look at it like, “Mary, you need to do a better job of tending this area.”

Or like I actually do, “This is a moment of solitude, conversation with my Dad and a time for wishes.”

Common folklore that has been attached to dandelions. In addition to granting wishes, many people believe that dandelion seeds will carry your thoughts and dreams to loved ones when you blow them into the air.

So, my birthday wish is to send my thoughts and dreams to my loved ones. Wishing only good health and time that is worry free.

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Local News

I do get a kick out of reading the local police blotter. It usually provides me with a few moments of levity and a respite from the crazy, big world out there. Of course, I don’t always read things the way others do.

I chuckled when reading about the guy yelling at pedestrians. #WWJD. I also thought maybe it was Jesus who flagged down the six people on the patio area in the first blurb.

Visions of this ethereal figure waving a staff. Breaking up the gathering of partiers. That’s God’s work right there. 🙂

That line though. They didn’t locate him. Comedy gold. Because if it was Jesus? You do the math. #disappeared #catchmeifyoucan

The last bit about the resident having an “issue with a squirrel” made me laugh out loud. I love it when the local newspaper italicizes phrases. I imagine the officer doing “air quotes” when relaying this information. Do we really need the police as mediators for your issue with a squirrel? That truly sounds like a job for social services or a counselor. Or, honestly? Just do your darned best to work it out with the squirrel. I’m sure a compromise can be met if both parties are willing.

Enjoy the day. Give yourself a break from the serious news for a few minutes.

It’s all how you read it.

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Any Questions?

Hope everyone is doing well and surviving the heat. I can write this knowing that, wherever you are in the world, your face most likely has a slight sheen to it. Hmph. Global warming isn’t a thing?

Yesterday, I went to the drive-through pharmacy. Thank goodness, America got that one right. I pulled up to the window.

The lady pulls back the plexiglass, “Can I help you?”

I almost said, “Yes, I need directions to the interstate.”

“I need help weeding my garden.”

“I could use a hand with some pesky neighbors.”

“How do I fix my Spotify? The songs keep skipping, every minute or so, in the car.”

But I bite my tongue and reply, “Hi! Here to pick up a prescription.”

Why else would I be at a pharmacy on a Sunday afternoon? But I digress.

She asks, “What’s your name?”

Not, “What’s the name?”

I wasn’t picking up a prescription for myself. It was for my dog. Does she really want my name? To create confusion?

I immediately think, “What’s the right answer to this?”

So I blurt out, “Thumper.”

She just looks at me. I look right back with the utmost seriousness and say, “I know I don’t look like a Thumper.”

It is what it is.

We exchange niceties. She has two more hours on her shift and the day off tomorrow. Seems thrilled.

Transaction winding down.

Do I want the receipt? No. Because I want to save a tree. This particular pharmacy is known (world wide) for their mile long receipts filled with coupons, surveys, etc. No lie. No exaggeration.

As I am leaving she asks, as every pharmacy employee does, “Do you have any questions?”

I looked at her and said, “Yes, I do have a question.”

“What on earth was my Mom thinking when she named me Thumper?”

She chuckled and off I went.

Hope you all have a wonderful start to the week. Remember to be kind to those out there who serve us in so many ways.

And if you can’t be kind?

Be funny. That is a kindness.

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Make It Easy

Hope everyone is well and enjoyed their weekend.

I had a busy week. But all good.

Wherever I roam, whether alone or in a pack, I usually pick up a pearl or two of wisdom. Thankfully.

One of those pearls came from a woman who I had the pleasure of lunching with this past week.

A group of us had visited the “Beyond Van Gogh” immersive exhibition. It was wonderful. I’ll share a few photographs in my next posting.

Afterwards, we had reservations at an Italian restaurant. The woman sitting near me was a retired judge and we were chatting about this and that.

During the course of conversation, she recalled, “My mother said, “Make it easy.”

I absolutely loved that.

Don’t complicate things.

Her mother always said this.

It does not mean take it easy. Although that certainly is not bad advice either. It means make it easy.

If you make it easy then maybe you can take it easy.

Isn’t it amazing, even with the vast wisdom and experiences of the world, the best advice many people ever received somehow circles back to their mothers?

So, as we begin another week, my wish is that you all make it easy.

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