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Saturday, November 24, 2012
Saturday, September 22, 2012
The American Dream
The American Dream
Age 59
I
sit alone as dark envelopes the day and one by one my beloved solar lights
flicker on, dimly lighting the night.
With wine glass in hand, in my Adirondack chair, I fade into the
night. A young stranger walks by, barely
seen but yells out, “You have a beautiful house.” I reply into the night, “Thanks.” Then I hear
him exclaim to his companion but for me to hear, “This is the American
Dream”’. My immediate and probably
confusing response into the night, to that stranger, was, “Looks can be
deceiving.”
“The
American Dream”? What was my dream? To have and raise a large and loving
family. A family that laughs together,
that holds each other in seasons of loss and sadness, that are honest and
natural with one another, that finds joy in worshiping together - a family that looks forward to
being together- a Thanksgiving table abundantly full of food and friends and
love. I dreamt of home as a safe haven
from the woes of the world- where the hearth was always warm and
welcoming. A place that brought memories
and anticipations of hot chocolate, crackling fires, curled up side by side
under a blanket, offering our warmth to one another. That is my American Dream—my naïve dream as I
married and started a family. A naïve
dream that I have held onto through all the ups and downs of all these years.
What
has that dream done to those I love? It
has left them, so I’m told, feeling enmeshed, strangled. Tangled in the
tradition and memories of youth. A place
from which distance of time and space cannot be too far and the restrictions of
contact and interest never enough.
It has left me confused and bewildered as to
my role at this point in my life. Be
there when life hurts too deeply and I
need your comfort or when clothes need to be washed or money needed, but don’t
ask how my day was or what I might be doing tomorrow, don’t talk of fun
memories or even create new ones -as that is also suspect. The parent has become the puppet only allowed
to move or speak at the whims of the puppeteers, otherwise desired to lay quiet
and still its box until called upon at some later time.
Is
it such a struggle- becoming an adult? Is
it really needed-to put the parent on a
spinning wheel and throw darts hoping one will penetrate deep enough that
somehow that will release one enough to “find themselves” and become an adult? It seems so, at least in this “American Dream”
for I have had to be put on that spinning wheel more than once- and yes, the
darts do penetrate- yes they hurt- and I am silent.
My
kind stranger... the “American Dream”- is that what this is? The lights you see on the outside- I so wish
they would chase away the darkness I feel inside. I need a new dream… where can I find that? A dream that looks on the outside the same as
it is inside...a dream I can share without harming others and can honestly reply
to that strange, “Yes, thank you, this is MY American dream.”
Thursday, June 14, 2012
Happy 5th Birthday Hattie Rose Miller
Click on link to see a slide show about Hattie's year with words directly from Hatttie at the end as she says good-bye to 4 and hello to 5!
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Miracle Moments-Mom’s Internment
February 6, 2012
Miracle Moments are something learned about when Mike
passed away. Little events, “coincidences”,
that are beyond just chance that say in a profound way, “I am with you- I am
OK- I love you.” There were many of those yesterday.
When Rick and I arrived at Westminster Memorial Park on
Monday, February 6, 2012, having given Mom her last car ride- buckled in the
front seat with me in the back- just as it always was, we were surprised to find
her site beautifully canopied with chairs set up and a table for her urn. I felt an immediate need for worship music- and especially to play “The Old Rugged Cross” so I sat in the car, called Mary Rose to find out how to download Pandora and search for “The Old Rugged Cross”. I downloaded OK but could not come up with “The Old Rugged Cross” but finally accepted worship music and went to the grave site. I found that both Mom and Dad’s
marker and Aunt Kate’s had been polished again and looked shiny and almost new
and they had neatly trimmed around both markers. . I also saw that they had finally found the
vase in the grass and had uncovered it and placed the flowers that we left
Saturday in it. I was touched.
The young man from Westminster backed off and simply
said, “Take all the time you want.” At one point he commented ‘“Your Mom liked Christian Music?’ I said that she did but I really was looking for “The Old Rugged Cross”. He, being
younger than I, took my phone to try to find it to no avail. Rick prayed for us, we wept and listened to the worship music.
After some time we told the young man that it was OK to bring the grounds crew to do the burial. I thought of Mike as once he was one of these crew members-a bit of a
tough job. They were very respectful as they exposed the pre-dug hole and place Mom on top of Dad’s casket- the Celtic Cross facing skyward. They placed
shovels full of dirt on top and with the very last shovel full that filled the grave,
“The Old Rugged Cross” came on Pandora. I burst into tears. The young man, who is
shortly to leave for Boston to study for the Priesthood, said, “Your Mom wanted
to wait until this moment- some things are just meant to be.” We listened to the song as they placed the sod and immediately afterwards “Amazing Grace” played...and of course, Grandma
Janet came to our hearts. Two songs after that was “His Eye is on the Sparrow”- the song Deven sang at Grandpa Rae’s funeral- I had not heard that song before and not again until yesterday. Take the time to listen to it- the words are beautiful and a comfort.
So—after more tears, a visit with Marmee and Grandee, and a last good-bye to Mom and Dad, we left the park. As we were at the exit gate, the radio on in the car, the announcer said, “This day’s theme is- Let Go and Let God”-one of Mom's life sayings. In tears we looked at each other and could only exclaim, “Really?”
Rick took me to Polly’s Pie Palace for breakfast—our server was Charlie! Not such a common name these days.
At the end of the day- before our flight home, Rick, Mary Rose and I went to Newport pier to watch the sunset. Mom loves the ocean and sunsets- as do I. It was beautiful and peaceful. We decided we had just enough time to get a fast dinner before leaving for the airport so we would just get whatever was at the end of the pier. The choices at the end of the pier??? Charlie’s Chili and Jane’s Corndogs!!! Really?
We choose Charlie’s Chili and from my seat I looked up and they had a
Fire station/firefighter sign on the wall. Really?
I don’t know what all to make of these “Miracle Moments”
but in my heart I feel we were being reassured that Mom, Dad and Mike and are together,
still loving all of us, and at peace in their new eternal home.
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