Remembering a Day

My father would have been 86 years old today, and to be honest, I can’t imagine what he would have been like at that advanced age. This is kind of funny given that my mom is 85 and pretty kick-ass in spite of her elder status—or maybe because of it. She has more energy than most people far younger, and more interest in the world at large than many people of any age. And she can throw back a shot like nobody’s business, too.

My dad died back in 2001, which seems like a lifetime ago now. I still miss him everyday and something brings him to mind several times each day. I wish he could see all of his grandkids now—he would be so very proud and pretty fascinated by their ‘adult’ selves.
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Buzzing Through Each Day

In spite of my best intentions, it’s been nearly two months since I last blogged. There’s been lots going on that I would have liked to have written about, but for one reason or another, I’ve been immersed in so many things that I haven’t had a chance to. And it’s been all good, but I’m just engaged in more things than I can even begin to fit in a single day.

I was talking to a good friend about this a few days ago. She switched jobs last year, and in her former job we had a chance to interact almost daily. We both have a lot going on and seem to be operating on conflicting schedules, making it hard to find the time to catch up. During our brief conversation, we marveled at just how busy our lives seem to be and how there always seems to be a need to catch our breath and find a bit of balance. The truth is, though, we like everything we’re doing. Actually, it might be safe to say that we love what we’re involved in. So when it comes to culling an activity or two, neither of us seem capable at this point because we don’t want to give any of it up.
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A Memorable Few Hours in Pensacola

People fascinate me–they always have. I like hearing their stories, learning about their lives and connecting my own observations to what I’m being told. When I travel, I particularly like to meet people wherever I am, especially if it’s someplace I’m not all that familiar with. It’s always cool to take in the local culture and visits some of the places that aren’t necessarily tourist destinations, although I’m usually down to see the must-go-to spots as well.

With that in mind, after a few hours in Pensacola the other night, I wavered between eating something really quickly and going to bed a bit earlier than usual and seeing a bit of the town. I took a quick cool shower to wake up a bit and decided to see what I could see since I didn’t anticipate getting back to Pensacola any time soon. I threw on a bright summer dress, quickly brushed back my wet hair and tied a scarf around my head before heading out the door. I felt like a bit of a mess, but I didn’t really care. Time was a-wastin’.

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Small-Town Spoiled

I am incredibly spoiled with where I live–a small town in southern N.H., which used to be known primarily as a farming community. It’s long been a place to get gorgeous fresh strawberries, blueberries and corn, along with many other fresh fruits and vegetables and people still continue to come from far and wide to purchase produce. In fact, we still see people coming at the end of the season, stocking up on potatoes, onions and the like for the months ahead, particularly those who believe in buying in bulk and have the means for cold storage over the winter.
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Late Fall Ruminations

We’re an introspective lot – women my age – and perhaps it’s because we finally have the time to stop and think about a thing or two. While we’ve all had our own experiences, varying as they may be, one commonality seems to be that we were all incredibly busy; some of us raising a family, others running a business, working very hard to move forward in a challenging career or perhaps even all three. In my own group, everyone’s kids are basically out of the house now and we can finally exhale or at least schedule a bit of time to. Life isn’t any less busy, but it’s busier with things that we have in place for ourselves for a change – organizations we wanted to join earlier in our lives, lessons or courses or maybe just longer hours at work. But it feels different somehow because much of it involves just us for a change.

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Lakeside Reflection

I am on vacation in an extraordinary place that I have been coming to for nearly 30 years now. There’s been just two summers that I have not been here in that time and there have been other years that I’ve been fortunate to come several times in one year. Throughout my childhood and early adult life, I enjoyed several long stretches visiting various places in New England regularly, from an area close to Cape Cod to the Lakes region of New Hampshire and White Mts., but this place, this wonderful place at Newfound Lake in New Hampshire has provided respite; blessed continuity for many, many years now and I cherish it.

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An Odd Sort of Summer

It’s been an odd sort of summer. Most of the time it doesn’t even seem like summer to me. I’m distracted and really busy. Each day seems to have a monumental ‘to-do’ list attached to it and no matter how much I get done, there’s a long, long list of things still to do. And I’m tired. A lot. Not sure what’s up with that but I guess there’s some direct correlation between being busy, having a lot still to do and being tired, but I don’t like it. I just want more energy and I want to get more done. It’s no wonder I’m not seeing a lot of this thing I normally think of as summer.

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Bouncing Back: Is Everyone Capable?

The older I get, the less patience I seem to have with excuses. My own. Other people’s. My own. Maybe I’m being a bit of a hardass here, but trust me, I’m no easier on myself. Honestly. I know my faults. I know the excuses I try to give myself and I’m not cutting myself any more slack than I am you.

I’ve gotten to a place in my own life where I am more aware than ever of where I’ve come from, what I’ve managed to accomplish and what I haven’t, particularly focusing on why I haven’t. No excuses. I didn’t focus enough on a lot of things and I have no one to blame but myself. Sure, circumstances definitely came into play at times but I can’t say that I always did the best job in dealing with some of those circumstances but I did the best I could at the time for the most part. And when I didn’t, the results reflect that.
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‘Round and ‘Round She Goes

My life is a carousel ride, a never-ending ‘round and ‘round, busier and busier, sometimes steadier than others and as dizzying as it is at times, I can’t seem to get off the carousel, nor most of the time of the time do I truly want to. I may change horses, get a different vantage point, but generally I’m going ‘round and ‘round at a pace that can be daunting at times to others.

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Weaving Memorable Threads

Family is often a complicated matter, and even when we’re at our very best; it can be a delicate dance to keep us in that condition. Sometimes though, the stars align and there’s no extra effort at all and a day or two (or even more) just sparkles in ways that make the time extra special.

This has been a busy weekend, with one activity after another, the pace of which doesn’t necessarily lend to stellar moods. However, it was a remarkable weekend in ways big and small; the kind that weaves memorable threads into the intricate tapestry we have created of our family life together. At face value, one might miss the little moments that led to the big. I didn’t. I notice and appreciate them.

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My Boy Turns Thirty

Today, my oldest son, Sean, turns 30, which makes perfect sense in the general scheme of things, but seems weird to me nonetheless. It’s par for the course for us moms to say things like, “Gosh, it was just yesterday when he was a baby and now look at him,” but the truth is, it doesn’t seem like just yesterday he was a baby at this point nor does it seem like he was really young any time recently, not that he seems particularly old right now. I’m not sure what age he seems to be other than just what he is, but it’s the idea of him being thirty, well. . .that just feels odd. I have a thirty-year old son. Wouldn’t I be old by now if that was true?
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Getting Through It

Having survived stage 3 anaplastic large cell lymphoma, a rare form of non-Hodgkins lymphoma, at times it’s as if it never really happened to me even as it remains an integral part of who I am.

In the darkest days of that illness, while I did indeed worry if I would get through it, there was still a part of me that believed that this was just going to be one more twist in the legend of my own life and in the long run, it would be insignificant in the face of everything else still to come.

I don’t dwell much on that time, but every now and then, something brings it all back. The other night was one of those times. I watched the movie “50/50” with one of my sons and my daughter. I had wanted very much to see this movie, and had been looking forward to it for some time. If you’re not familiar with the plot, the main character, played so well by Joseph Gordon-Levitt, is a 27-year old man who finds he has advanced stage cancer and has a 50/50 chance of getting through it. Thank goodness, he did.

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