my wishes for you

October 29, 2017

Dear Mike,
This is a smidgen late…but you’re so awfully cute that M and I got bogged down choosing the pictures.  I wrote you a poem. It will give you a chuckle. It’s at the bottom.  Don’t jump ahead.  First things first.  You will probably roll your eyes and throw up your hands in exasperation. But you will like it. You always do. You’re so good that way. 

I’m never quite sure whether to keep it light or tell you all that’s in my heart…as though you don’t already know. You’re good that way too. How very blessed I am. 

Today is your very own happy new year. Yours and yours alone. Should I tell you how much I love you. Or should I tell you all the things I wish for you. I suppose they’re really rather one in the same, aren’t they.

Birthdays like New Years are a threshold. A moment in time that you can’t quite see but where two worlds meet. What has been and what will come to be. The first you know all too well. The second is the universe waiting for you to come join the celestial dance.

Confetti and cake, boxes and bows, mark the celebration! The celebration of you! The day when everything changed because there was you. Don’t grumbleat me. You Have changed the world for good for so many whether you realize it or not.  

Before the cheers, before the world joins in your joy, pause…and think what this doorway is for you. Let go of all that it’s time to leave in the past. Let it begin to fade and whatever scars it has left, let them begin to heal. But don’t let everything go. Keep the beauty. Keep all the treasures that make you smile and fill you with hope. Just look at how many there are! Tie them with satin bows in your heart. Forever a part of you. Only you know what they are.

Breathe deep and face the future, your very own. Ready and waiting. It’s time to start something new and grand! You have a deep compassion. Take it with you and keep it close. It has always served you well. There are so many unseen and hurting faces in your world. Many of them you will never know. But you make a difference for them nonetheless. I marvel at that!  

You’re rather a star to me…but I’m pretty sure you already knew. Giggles. No matter what comes to you in life you face it head on and with a strength of character that I so admire. You touch so many… 

How honored I am to be some small part of your world. Did you know… when you turn and see me, just me, and gather me up in your arms… you hug like a great big bear. I feel safe and so loved. Thank you for that. 

No matter how time has flown for us and where each of us is… I always carry you in my heart. And I know without a doubt that I am in yours too. We’ve known each other since before forever. There’s something I cannot quite describe about what makes us a “we” when in truth we’ve had so little time together. Perhaps that makes it all the stronger. 

I’m sorry, but I do not pray for you to have worldly things. I pray for you all the joy and beauty of life. That goodness may find you and keep you smiling even when I am far away. That you may have courage in times of adversity. That your heart may always win and save a gentle place for all of the small unnoticed things in life. I pray that you may be gifted with a loving spirit, a smiling countenance, an overflowing joy, and a peaceful soul that will keep you at all times and in all places. 

Happy birthday Mike. I love you so very much. You are my one and only…big brother. 

all my love always, suzanne ❤️. < i> P. S. – you’ll always be 18 to me. < i><

nd now for something…a little different…

You are my one and only.  You always have been.  And always will be. You’re handsome and smart. I knew right from the start. That you were gonna go far.

I always knew. Cause I’m just as smart as you. Just saying …

Oh the wheels! That you’ve squealed! First strollers then bikes. And the cars. Oh the cars! Cars cars cars cars!

And me all along. With a laugh and a song. Your trusty sidekick.  I sheepishly confess you made me quite sick.

Parking lot donuts. Donuts galore. Make it stop. I would plead.  Before grinning and asking for more.

Again suz?!  Heck yeah!  A laugh from you. A grin from me. And off we went again you see.

See there. Now your two biggest fans. Have both written an ode.  To the one perfect boy…Oh what a joy!

Shall I trot mine out at parties. And, make you blush red. From the tips of your toes. To the top of your head?

She’s earned the right to call you perfect. She is your most loving and devoted fan. And don’t you forget it! Everyone should be so blessed as to have one.

A few years between us. And then a few days. You always come first. In all the right ways.

Pull out the calendar. You do the math. I’m really quite sure. We have one romantic dad…

No matter our ages. Days like the pages. This long story of we. Unfolds…

How much did we miss…

Sometimes together. Mostly apart. But always. Yes always. You’re close in my heart.

Then you go. And, let it show. Just how much you care. Devoting your life. To those in strife. Helping each one at a time. Holding their hand. Taking a stand. For the things that you know. Are so right…

How much tea did you drink?  Did you think that you’d sink?!  In the name of my girly tea parties.

By the time I was eight. You stood by the gate. Could hardly wait. For that next date. You were so grown. And I was so small. Fast cars and freedom.  They came to call.

My, you looked fine. When you made it on time. Those teen girls, how they did twitter.  At the sight of you mister. No eyes for your sister that day. With a Wink and a smile…

Still…I felt oh so special. Top down plus you. Adding me makes it two.  Away we did flee…

Wait, there are three.  Yes, the car counts as one. You taught me that.  First rule of boys, sis.  Shhhh. Keep it under your hat.

Oh and thanks for this too. Rule number two! Faster than fast is just the right speed?!

How many times officers looked down at me.  But my brother says…

Rule number two?  I don’t think so miss. But the ones who had sisters. Would chuckle and wave.  At your little joke. Cause they all had their own.

Oh and by the way. Your Men at Work cassette tape.  I still have that… Yeah…sorrrrry

For my birthday one year. You gave me Miss Piggy! Her bright purple dress. Made me quite giddy!

But the only thing I ever wanted from you…Was just you…

I wish I had more pictures of us. You know. All that silly brother sister stuff.

Wind in our hair.  Fast as the breeze.  Taking life as it comes.  Just as you please.

That thing you can do with your knuckles and toes. To this day makes me goes. Ugh…Just ugh…

You hug like a bear. It’s really not fair.  None can compare.  When you squeeze out the air.  But I don’t care.  Cause you’re you…

My one and only big brother. That’s who.

Wide eyed and wondering. I looked up to you. Always so brave.  Always so true.

Wherever life takes us. Wherever we go. You’ll always be close in my heart. Don’t you know.

Now… here we are… Life’s journey so far…

And look!

You’re  still my shining star!

<<<<<<
;

The Prairie, The Garden…Inside Glow…

A journey must begin somewhere…

a Field, this Field, is as good a place as any,

Tirelessly you travel across the wide and lonesome Prairie…

Into the cool and mysterious shadows of the Black Mountain…

What treasures hide there…

And Beyond it…

The Garden calls from the East…

Soft quiet footsteps will bring you to the grassy lake of the Blueberry Swan…

The gentle queen of the Flower Garden…

Taking care of all who dwell within her realm…

Closer now, amongst her heart shaped green feathers…

Oh! The sweet Starfish Flower…

So bright and hopeful with its Inside Glow…

One and another and another still, so very many beauties…

Now, you must use your deepest imagination…

For, In the heart of every Starfish Flower dances…

A Pixie, tried and true…

All are safe here…

But, they leave you wondering…

How Do You Glow From The Inside?

Note: The title, story, and inspiration are courtesy of Ms. Smith’s 4th grade writers at Turner Elementary.  Thank you for sharing your own way of seeing!

As always thank you to my sweet readers,

Ellie❤️

Jack j juice box

Few things are more wonderful than easing into wakefulness from the heart of a just because nap, an honest to goodness close your eyes and drift off if you want to, nap.  No bells or alarms jolting you into the present moment where you must hurry because you’re already five items behind on your to do list.  I’ve just had the bliss of one on this perfect September Sunday.  Jack is still heavy across my ankles, his favorite way to sleep.  The dogs are still dreaming.  It’s easiest for me to write when they are as still as a breezeless pond. Even that is deceptive.  They are only recharging for their next round of mayhem! 

Have you ever experienced a juice box? Yes, I’m talking about that small handheld invention – a box filled with juice in varying flavors accessible by a straw of matching size and cuteness.  Deceptive.  If you’ve ever gone round with one you’ll know why I call it an “experience”.  If you haven’t, I urge you to go forth and find one immediately if not sooner.  It’s something you’ll never forget.  You must find out for yourself.  It may in fact change your whole life.  Well, perhaps that’s a tad overstated.  But, you never know.
And if you think that one juice box is a wimpy experience, that you’re ready for so much more…or…you’re simply embarrassed to partake of a juice box as a great big grown up all alone….well, then I recommend that you make your way to the nearest preschool and enjoy your life changing experience with a dozen 3-5 year olds.  I dare you.

Ok, ready? Here goes.  A juice box is a tiny little thing, rather cute. Innocent and adorable it waits for you to come closer.  They  actually come in a variety of shapes but for our purposes we will focus on the box.  Pick it up. Turn it over in your hand.  Wow, pretty sturdy.  And how good of them to include such a tiny matching straw.  hmmm.  Here’s where you come upon your first challenge, to ease the straw protected by its own plastic sleeve away from the box.  Warning, if you mess this up you do not win the straw.  In fact it will crimp in the middle and you’ll end up fighting for every drop of juice through a mangled straw.

Assuming you tear it successfully away from the box you now face your next challenge. You must free the straw from its protective sleeve that I’m pretty sure was designed by NASA to withstand the fires of  re-entry into the earth’s atmosphere.  In the tackling of this step, do not – I repeat – do not –  do anything to flatten the pointy end of “cute little straw”.  Not so cute anymore, huh.  You’re going to need that pointy end to stab through the miniscule foil covering – also designed by NASA.  

So, straw meets foil.  If you’re too gentle your juice will never see the light of day.  If you’re too exuberant it will explode in your hand like some sort of mini volcano.  (Have you ever noticed how the word mini makes everything sound that much cuter.  Seriously. Try it while you’re enjoying your juice.) 

Even if you’ve made it this far things can still go miserably wrong.  You see, you have to hold it right.  Yep, there’s a right way to hold the cutie pie.  Side to side at the edges is best.  If you grip it in the middle the whole thing can easily turn into a fountain.  Juice will be everywhere that  you don’t want it and sadly missing from the one place you do want it, namely your tummy.  

Lest I have scared you off I assure you they are totally worth the effort.  The juice is fantastic once you finally get to it.  You are allowed to make a satisfying slurping noise when you reach the bottom.  Some boxes will even cave in and change shape as you drain them becoming an artistic sculpture worthy of being displayed at any reputable museum of modern art. What’s not to love about that?

Juice boxes are a fine science and to be honest I’m not certain how preschoolers stay hydrated in the face of such adversity.

Since we’re already in preschool let’s talk about glitter!  With your trusty juice box by your side all you need now is paper, glue, and glitter for some good old fashioned fun.  A clean piece of white paper layed on a sturdy surface, (not your grandmother’s mahogany table).  Take the bottle of Elmer’s glue and swirl to your hearts content.  This way and that with no rhyme or reason.  Add…Glitter! Shake it from the bottle.  Pour it from a spoon.  Sprinkle it with your fingers.  Just keep going until your paper has disappeared under the weighty beauty of the sparkly bits.  Gently lift at the corners letting all the excess fall away leaving behind  only what held firm to the glue.  There! Beautiful! And would you look at that, there we are again – the art of letting go leaving behind nothing but joy. One day we’ll learn. Maybe.

Glitter sticks!  It sticks in the carpet, to your hands, furniture, face, you name it.  It makes its way absolutely everywhere and doesn’t give up easily. I know people who cringe at the sight of it.  Oh no, that crafty art project will have to stay behind.  I’ll never get rid of all that glitter.  My question is, why would you want to.  It’s so much fun.  Still,  for many it is left behind out of fear and the desire for perfection.  Perfect carpet.  Perfect furniture.  Perfect life.  

But life in all of its ups and downs is a profoundly messy thing.  Dirt falling from paws and the shedding of fur is as messy as glitter but I will never trade the joy of it for a perfect floor.  

Jack is my September puppy.  My juice box. My glitter.  

Three years ago Jack gazed at me with those warm brown eyes.  I gathered him up.  He didn’t squirm to get loose.  He didn’t try to chew on me.  He gently nuzzled into my neck as though he was home and had belonged there all along. He hardly moved at all, happy to  just be in my arms, as though he could finally rest.  Jack is mine. Or rather, I am his.  He chose me as surely as a preschooler chooses their favorite flavor of juice. I was helpless to resist. Such perfect precious innocence…

 Um, no. Precious, maybe. Perfect and innocent? No way.  Jack is the mess that sticks without glue.  How often do I shake my head and sigh – oh, jack. 

Jack is the reason I get up so early to write.  When he was a puppy he insisted with both voice and paw that I awaken early, as in 4:30 crazy early! I soon realized that he only wanted me to move to the den where he would settle in and return to sleep.  What is that about?!  Hmmm.  As long as I was up anyway I might as well make the best of it and write in the quiet hours before dawn.  

It is Jack who cornered the poor beaver.  It is Jack who steals the toys. It is Jack who will dig a hole to the center of the earth’s core.  It is Jack who knows all of the neighbors on a first name basis. It is Jack who whimpers in the hallway begging to be noticed.  It is Jack who will do his best Paul Bunyan impression trying to carry an entire tree branch, even if it’s only for a few feet.  It is Jack who sends Bo scurrying under the picnic table.  It is Jack who actually does the yoga pose downward facing dog.  It is Jack’s name that I call in the woods when I want all of my companions to come along.  It is strange indeed how all of the dogs come bounding in response to his name. It gives me a hearty smile.  It is Jack who can round up an entire herd of cows in under two minutes. That’s a real sight to see! It is Jack who is a little Casanova. 

It is Jack who greets me with an actual cry of delight when I return home after an absence.  Whether I’ve been away for 5 minutes or 5 hours makes no difference to him. He is overcome with joy that I am no longer invisible.  It is Jack who finds things, things that I didn’t even know were lost… Jack is my life changing juice box. Jack is my brilliant little mess that sticks to every part of my life with the tenacity of glitter.  I wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Hidden in the heart of the messy places, the ones you least expect, there is where your joy is.  Life is a complicated adventure.  You cannot create one without a bit of bother and a touch of glue.  I will never trade a glittery mess for picture perfect.  It’s just not worth it.  Life is short.  Even when it’s long, it’s short.  Too short to be afraid of a juice box .  Too short not to take the glittery masterpiece home with you.  Embrace the mess…and let go of the rest.

Without the words…

Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul and sings the tune without the words and never stops at all… Emily Dickinson 

Trust in the Bacon

I write everyday.  You probably do too.  A text, an email, a grocery list.  Anytime you string words together for whatever reason, you’re writing.  Writing doesn’t have to look like a story.  I’ve been writing as long as I can recall.  My script was so small in middle school that my poor teacher couldn’t even make it out with her reading glasses.  She asked me very kindly to write larger please.  I hope that I did. These days I wake up before 5am each morning, to write.  Yes, on purpose.  Jack has just a wee bit to do with it though.  I start the coffee, settle the dogs and gather my things.  I write in the kitchen in an old-fashioned grade school spiral notebook with a pencil.  I prefer a yellow spiral but find that other colors accept my thoughts just as well.  It’s silly how we fall into certain routines, isn’t it.  Nevertheless, there they are.  For instance, Ellie at nearly 100 pounds can only seem to rest at night if she’s right up next to me.  I have awakened with more than a few creaks as you can imagine.  But she’s my sweet girl so, there I am.  Back to writing…  Some mornings I’m quite lost and stare at the page not knowing where to begin.  Emptiness waiting to be filled.  There is a beauty in empty spaces.  In Japanese culture emptiness is thought to be Full of Nothing.  And from nothing comes everything… nothing is pure potential… I find that delightfully amazing! When someone asks me out of curiosity what’s in all those spirals.  I giggle and say – a whole lot of nothing.  And it’s true really.  My spirals aren’t meant to Be anything.  They’re just me listening to myself I suppose.  Oddly enough writing that I’m lost often gets me off and running.  How many thoughts do we have in a day, or in an hour, and how many of them are we able to explore and play with to our hearts content.  Not many.  Life tugs at us to keep moving.  So, when I stop long enough to write in my spiral or here on wordpress where do I begin and then where do I go from there.   Do you know where you’ll end up before you arrive or is it more of a wonderful happenstance.  Even if you board the right train with the right ticket punched for Timbuktu, can you  be certain that’s where you’ll get off, where your journey will end?  I will admit a terrible secret.  Often when I begin reading a book, I turn first to the back and check out the ending.  It’s not because I want to judge whether the story is worth my time.  It’s not even because I want to know how it ends.  And it doesn’t spoil the book for me at all.  In fact the opposite is true.  It helps me to let go of reading as a means to find out what the ending will be.  I let go of the worry of what will happen.  It frees me to enjoy the rambling journey of the story itself.  The twists and turns take on a liveliness of their own.  The darkness of the forest holds beauty as well as fear and doubt.  Because I know how the story will turn out I pause long enough to see both rather than hurrying through assuming either the best or the worst.  Of course real life doesn’t allow me to live backwards knowing what will happen.  I’m good with that.  I have no desire to know.   Ellie, Jack, Huckleberry, Bo and Sonya trust we will walk everyday no matter the weather.  They know the lake is ready for a swim when they get there.  They believe there will be squirrels to chase and interesting smells to dig for.  And with every fibre of their being they trust that when the walk comes round once again to Home there will be the wonders of bacon snacks waiting for them as if by magic.  Beyond even the bacon is a soft safe spot to sleep away the afternoon.  No worries.  Perhaps I should read the way I live, forward without jumping to the last page.  Perhaps I should live the way I read, taking one page at a time grateful to be where I am and  wondering at what will come next.  Perhaps I should let go and trust more easily the way my four legged companions do. Perhaps I should face the empty page with the pure anticipation of the fullness of nothing.  Enjoy the journey and Trust in the bacon!

 

life is good when you’re me

 

Mimi!

First of the season! She’s huge! As big as my hand! As pure as a winter snow! As glorious as the full moon she’s named for! She’s just wonderful!

She never blossoms this early! Twenty five years ago my grandmother gave me the starter for this moon flower plant.   So, I think of Mimi when she blooms. Open only to the night and early morning, in a few hours she will disappear to the day.  I could so easily have missed her. Thank goodness I didn’t. Moon flowers are in the night shade family so they’re poisonous if ingested. But to some night creatures they offer the sweetest life giving nectar.  They only open at night and they only open once.  Although I’m not a night creature, she offers me a beautiful gift as well.  What small world will you see today that will shower you with Joy?!