Ode to Light

ODE TO LIGHT

Sunlight
Lanterns
Flashlights

Candlelight
Moonlight

This is the light in my life right now.

I have no power.  Almost 8 days.

Yet, I keep flicking the switch each time I walk into the room.

See you later . . . not goodbye

Thursday night, we stopped by a friend's house. This was something I had been putting off - as if not stopping, not acknowledging that they were moving away, would somehow mean they weren't leaving.

But, it doesn't work that way, does it?

As we drove past their house, every light was on. This made sense, the moving van was arriving early the next day and I am sure they had quite a few final details to attend to. As much as I didn't want to, I asked my husband to pull into their driveway - the time to say goodbye was now.

Throughout life, there are many kinds of friends that cross our paths. Some will even join us on our journey for a period of time. And, if we are very lucky, we will be blessed with friends that become something more, friends who truly become part of our lives for a long, long time.

These are those kind of friends. We met because of our 5th grade daughters but became friends because we really liked each other. We've laughed together, celebrated together, shared difficult conversations, and watched our girls grow up. (I have a decade of 'first day of school' photos of them in my photo albums). When Nancy went back to school, I was thrilled for her and several years later, when I returned to graduate school, she was equally as happy for me. Adult friendships are often hard to maintain, it takes an effort to stay connected in the busy world we live in. Something else is often a bit more of a priority than sharing time; and, even if you've made loose plans to get together, those plans often give way to the demands of every day living and schedule changes that happen.

But, when you do get together, it's as if you are picking up a conversation you had just paused a few minutes ago . . . it never seems as if you haven't seen each other for months. Straight talk, solid conversation, we've covered more than fifteen years of growing up - shifting through several phases of parenting and marriage. Now, they are leaving the neighborhood, moving south, and taking on a new adventure in their journey.

I wish them well. I am excited that they are following their dream, relocating to a community they are drawn to and creating a new life. Together. I am pretty sure our paths will cross again but it will be different. I reminded them of my annual summer picnic and if they are visiting family nearby next June, they were always welcome. They may come . . . strolling down my driveway, bottle of wine in hand, as if they still lived around the corner. I am holding on to that imagine. For now, this is see you later, not goodbye.

When Coffee is so much more . . .

I've been here before; sitting at Einstein Bagels considering why I'm not writing regularly. At this point, regularly doesn't even mean daily -- I'd take every other day, every third day. I'm in a writing rut without a doubt. I decided to fill just one napkin this morning - one napkin filled with words.*

This is a good place to sit; it's a neighborhood place. There are customers who come in on a regular schedule, people I know well enough to say hello to or to chat with for a couple of minutes. For several years, a small group of my friends and I were regulars. On Friday mornings, we would meet at 8 AM for one hour for coffee and .... conversation, friendship, and support. A touch-stone hour that kept us connected, We shared our lives over coffee and the news of engagements, graduations, upcoming vacation plans, parental illnesses, family news and changes, and the joy of grandchildren. We were good with one another - good listeners, able to offer advice and support based in caring and long term friendship. Then, we solved 'all the problems of the world' -- we were damn good at providing solutions. If only the world would listen to us.

With changing circumstances, the group sometimes shifted. Then, within our final group of three, one returned to school with an 8 AM start and another took on regular AM care of her grandson. Our group disbanded after many years. We were no longer Friday morning regulars.

I miss the notation in my calendar that read 'coffee' but needed no further explanation. It was coffee but so much more. Occasionally, we still get together when is is a holiday weekend or someone is visiting from out of town. I send out an email to see if anyone is available - usually two or three can make it. We all miss touching base with one another . . . our friendships go back two decades to when are children were in kindergarten or first grade. There was a rhythm to our week-by-week conversations; time for each of us to talk. Time to listen. Time to reflect, for even a minute or two, before answering.

A few months ago, a friend was visiting from Atlanta and five of us made time for coffee. It was wonderful to see everyone; we talked fast and furiously; often several conversations occurring simultaneously. I found it difficult to give anyone my full attention. After an absence of months, the rhythm was gone.

I miss being a regular.

*edited from the napkin

101 Things to Do in 1001 Days: Goal 25

My quest continues to complete my list of 101 things.

Goal 25 is to journal daily a six word memoir about my life* . . . (for at least 30 consecutive days - 3 times during the 1001 days). I began the first block of this journal writing the day my daughter left for her summer adventure in India. "Meg to India. Miss her already."

Some days are easier than others. A specific event or emotion just needs to be the center of attention "Change ripples outward: splashes over me." Other days, ordinary days, I work through many possibilities to choose the right words. Sometimes, I try to go with the silly "Mani/Pedi. Fingernails: neutral. Toes: outrageous." For balance, I often try to be a bit more serious or profound "Parenting adult children. A learning process."

I'm an expansive writer so summarizing a full twenty-four hours (1,440 minutes)into six words is a challenge for me. One of the aspects I like about this challenge is that my whole life is showing up on the page - parenting, writing, family, risks, realizations, fears, friends, as well as the ordinary and boring. "Need to sleep; deep without dreams."

I'm learning that for me, there is something liberating, yet safe, in writing just six words. I find the writing a bit easier than it was when I began in May. Many days, it is even fun! I've gone longer than 30 days with this first block; I've adjusted the goal to journal the entire time my daughter is away (through the end of August).

And I'm doing it . . . day-by-day.


*See http://www.smithmag.net/sixwords

Flexibility

One of the things I love about the early morning hours of a summer weekend day is the 'promise' of the day -- so many things may happen and but right now, I don't know what any of them will be. This is not a scheduled week day which begins with the buzz of the alarm at 5:00AM -- but a day that has a vague plan (maybe we'll barbeque around six); a day that has the ability to be flexible.

Right now, my neighborhood is as quiet as my neighborhood ever gets: just the hum of an air conditioner compressor, the rise of a neighbor's electric garage door, a few birds, a barking dog, and a car or two on the adjacent street. I don't want to move, to disturb the silence around me. I want to listen to the quiet.

Lao Tzu, an ancient Chinese philosopher, is credited with noting "Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished" . . . I trust that whatever I need to accomplish today, will be accomplished.

First on the list, a hot cup of coffee.

Waves

The afternoon air is changing. Although invisible, the humidity creeps in and the temperature rises as the cloudless afternoon allows the sun to bake the landscape. Very little air is moving and my decorative flag is almost still. The chorus of birds from an hour ago has stilled to a single call.

I can sense the heat wave beginning.

I try to keep the windows open and the air conditioner turned off as long as possible. I like the sounds of summer. Of my neighborhood. A single songbird is more delightful than hum of the compressor for the A/C unit. Slam of a car door next door.

Not to mention the drum solo from the boy across the street. He practices in his garage, door wide open, and, in the afternoon, waves of music float out into our neighborhood. I can't discern a specific song but he can keep a beat. I love the enthusiasm of an 11 year old despite the heat.

Another's Dream

It is an odd and intimate thing to be included in another person's dream. Recently a friend emailed me --

"You were in my dream last night - we were both in separate vehicles on the highway. Suddenly I found myself in a hospital built inside a high school . . .

Then I looked out the window and you were in a big yellow Jeep Cherokee and someone was trying to run you off the road. I was far away but rooting for you. I saw your face change into determination and you took the car - and RAM - drove it into the mean person and they went flying off the road and that's how it ended.

I think it means you are definitely an independent and strong lady who pushes back when she needs to."

I like the interpretation that I am "an independent and strong lady who pushes back when she needs to" although I hope the person in the car is fine.