…Bowlin that is! My Pam + I did the “wild hair” thing and ran to Lancaster, PA for a CKC event in late July. Turns out that one of my favorite scrapbook creators, Jenni Bowlin, is from the area and was womanning her own vendor space…well, along with Her Hub on cash register. Yeah, that’s me…I especially love the one where I’m semi-stalking. Grab the Moments, folks…grab the Moments.
Archive for the ‘Memories’ Category
On Momma & Brin’s Amazing Roadtrip in May I never shared how much I enjoyed tent camping and sitting by a campfire. We definitely didn’t rough it as we had an air mattress and sleeping bags and a dozen pillows. But there’s something about eating and sleeping outdoors that was addictive. Even though it was more work to set up and cook once I was ensconced by the campfire with my book and headlamp I was at peace. Totally. Relaxed. I found my internal clock unwinding and slowing several beats. There were a few drawbacks; our first night in North Carolina the temperature dipped to forty degrees. And in Kentucky at dusk the mosquitoes seemed to be small fighter jets and I spent nine dollars at the general store for bug repellant! But our last campsite in Tennessee had a small stream rushing by and it was almost as soothing to me as ocean waves.
Spending time alone with Brin and connecting with her as a grown-up-fabulous-person and not only my kid was the highlight by far and we had several awesome adventures. We went zip lining in Tennessee which was a definitely a thrill but our last minute FAV choice was caving at Raccoon Mountain.
There were just the two of us with a young man as our guide. This cave crawl was not for the unadventurous or inflexible; we slithered on our butts and bellies many times; we stopped frequently to defog our glasses; we were completely done-in ninety minutes later but we had a blast. We even sat still in the dark and listened to the cave grow. No you can’t really hear growth, but in the absolute palpable dark you could hear water always moving and flowing from a trickle to a stream and thinking of a cave as a living organism that takes thousands and thousands of years to grow was mind blowing. Caves are a powerfully spiritual place.
I’ve been in denial—struggling with truth for several weeks. Marina Day died of leukemia the night a rare comet soared across the sky this March. A brilliant light has gone out in the World. And the world. Goes. On. How is this possible? Why? Oh the pain-filled questions. I leave on Friday for Georgia to join hundred’s of Marina Day’s loved ones in celebrating her life. Celebrating her life with those who treasured her is exactly the balm my heart craves.
With her parents Sharon & Mike the Day’s created a Facebook group when Marina was diagnosed and being treated in Boston. Marina’s Lovefest is filled to the brim with hundreds of friends and family members who fiercely envisioned her healing, wellness, and wholeness. People who showed up to this space as love-in-action with their OMing and photos and snippets of joy. Witnessing the creation of possibility, love, faith, and authenticity has been an honor and a blessing. Marina’s journey and her relationships, especially with her mom, inspires me to be as bold and beautiful in all of mine.
Over the past thirty months I’ve send cards and little gifts and always received the sweetest notes back from Marina. In one she shared that she was choosing her ‘one little word’ (that Jeff offered to scrollsaw for her) because she didn’t see herself this way and wanted to to be BOLD. O, beautiful child of the sea—you lived bold, you died bold, you are the essence of bold, you inspired others to a boldness they may never have dared. You’ve gone first—so bold. Your memory trails a thousand pinpricks of light across the night sky like a comet—here and gone too soon. You were a force of nature and embodied bold in your music, dance, laughter, humor—you and your love were incredibly bold and beautiful. I am grateful for your light in my life. Namasté my friend.
When I was a child, I entertained myself for hours – well, maybe 20-30 minutes with a game I made up: walking on the ceiling. I took a mirror and holding it in my hand, mirror-side pointing up towards the ceiling, I’d walk throughout the house, on any number of adventures through distant and definitely, made-up, lands. Over each door jamb I’d step, very carefully so I wouldn’t trip ;-)).
This morning, as I was eating breakfast, I noticed reflections of items sitting on the granite counters… and they reminded me of my childhood game. So, I grabbed my iPhone, switched the camera so it would capture the ceiling…and proceeded to play the game.
T’wasn’t as much fun but I’m glad I did it; always fun to relive a childhood moment, doncha think?
Last May I visited my Aunt Margaret in Canada, she was selling her home in a retirement community and moving into an assisted living facility. There was only so much she could take with her and one of the things slated to be donated was a hope chest. I have a weak spot for boxes. I am prone to falling for all shapes and sizes, makes, materials, they call to me from the nooks and crannies of thrift shops and craft fairs. I currently only have one hope chest which is home to my childhood treasures, memories of a twenty-seven year marriage, and keepsakes from Brin’s journey from newborn to young woman. I am a devout keeper.
My Aunt told me the hope chest was the first and only gift her parents had given her—it was an engagement gift. She’d had it for over fifty years! The chest was empty and a delectable cedar scent wafted from inside which still looked new—irresistible itself but it had family history! But I was going home by plane. I couldn’t take it. No way. Fortunately, not only am I keeper but I’m a hoper.
After staying at my Aunt’s for a few days I was hosted by my dear friend Beatrice and her husband Joop in Oakville. I shared the story of the hope chest and asked if I could get it to her house could it hang out in the basement until I figured out how to get it to Florida. Bea’s a kindred soul and a hoper, too. She welcomed the dear chest and even helped me carry it downstairs when it was delivered by my Aunt’s pet sitter a few days later. Do you see the synchronicities keeping the hope alive?
Once I was home I made a few inquiries for shipping but the cost was simply too high. Bea said it was fine where it was for a while and we would wait and see what the Universe sent us. Fast forward sixteen months when Bea spoke with friends who planned to visit south Florida in September and who had a brother and sister-in-law who would be driving from Canada to meet up with them. In a VAN. What fabulous friends that they agreed to this hopeful adventure!
Hope Chest Travel log leg one: September 9th left the basement of Bea & Joop’s Oakville house driven to Toronto. Thank you all for giving this hope wings.
“Oh. the places you’ll go” dear hope chest on your way from Toronto to Ocala! How do you keep hope alive dear reader?
My friend Jaime lives in Maine and she plans to come to Florida for the birth of her granddaughter, baby Emily. On the phone she explained how she could fly but she’d rather drive so she had her car for the few weeks she’d be here. Do you wanna fly up and have a road-trip with me? YES! Then I set about the looking at the logistics. Work and commitment wise it was a good week. I’m flying Allegiant Air and it took me a while to book a flight. At first I interpreted it as a sign not to go. I stepped back for a few days and reevaluated. My wise self asked me if I really wanted to go? YES! I answered again with no hesitation. Okay then, she whispered, make it happen. And I did. I’m flying to Bangor on September 13th and Jamie and I will begin our road-trip home on the following Monday and take a few days to get to Florida. We may pop in and see friends unexpectedly en-route!
What’s your most memorable road-trip? My first and only road-trip alone was in 1997 the first summer I ever had off because I worked in the school system. It was awesome! I drove my husbands brand new spiffy bright yellow Ford Splash Ranger from Florida to Ohio, then on to Toronto, and finally to Massachusetts where I stayed for the summer. I thoroughly enjoyed the scenery, took my time, daydreamed about a life of travel, and soaked in the freespiritedness of my adventure and connecting with friends and family along the way.
My mom loved Christmas and would plan for it all year long. She would scour yards sales in spring and hunt at flea markets in summer and tuck away the treasures she mined. She’d wrap them so early she’d forget what was inside! I’ve never been a planner for Christmas and now that our family has toyed with making gifts instead of buying them I’m definitely going with spur-of-the-moment kinda gal.
The same week that Kathy suggested a ‘Christmas in July’ post a friend gave me boxes of Christmas decorations to sort through and keep or share. May the spirit of Christmas twinkle in your heart all year long!