Photo Album Memories

I don’t know how cell phones figure out how to put photo collages and “over the years” memories together. I’m sure complicated algorithms and face recognition magic have a lot to do with it. However it is done, my phone graced me with a great photo collection the past few days. But just how did it know I needed these reminders?

For 16 years after Dad passed, Mom and I celebrated holidays together. A few times, I was able to get Mom to sleep overnight from Christmas Eve to Christmas Day. A couple times I even convinced her to go to midnight mass with me, which was way past her bedtime. Afterwards we’d come home and toast the night with a glass of wine before bed. 

So as I sit here and think about holiday decorating and baking Christmas cookies, I can’t help but think about Mom. I remember as kids how we made so many tins of Christmas cookies, all different varieties. I remember having her over my place, and she would decorate cookies for me. She loved seeing the tree decked out and going for rides to see the Christmas lights. And oh my goodness, she would ask if the dog was coming with us. Later as travel got harder for her, we’d spend the visits at her assisted living apartment. She didn’t understand technology, but she loved to do FaceTime and look at photos on the computer. 

In these pictures I see Christmas and Easter and Mother’s Day, and even the day of Luke & Veronica’s wedding. I don’t have a picture of her with Mollie, but boy did that dog adore her. I see her celebrating her 50th wedding anniversary with my dad and how radiant she looked on her 80th birthday. 

I see card nights with Mom and occasionally Aunt Helen. When this memory popped up, I felt myself waving at the two of them. How would I have learned Kings in the Corner without Aunt Helen? For Mom, she was always the card shark and whipped my hand plenty of times. 

I remember the day I went to pick up Buffy to bring her home. Mom went with me and held the pet carrier on her lap. She talked to and comforted Buffy all the way home. Buffy came inside, did a new surroundings tour, and very quickly curled up under the Christmas tree. It was like she was always here with us. 

The last time we took a photo together was the picture of Mom in her yellow sweater. It was Mother’s Day, and she got to meet Jethro for the first and only time. So he’s either cropped out in the foreground or he was on the other side. She passed the following Saturday morning. Now all we have are photos and memories to fill our hearts. 

There are times when I sit here and think, “I wonder if Mom would like this?” Just yesterday I did that again. This time I heard back, “Oh, I just love that!” It’s a good feeling to know she’s still around. And for Dad, there are lots of days I ask, “I wonder what Dad would think of this (fill in the topic).” I can picture him analyzing a situation, listening intently and offering his opinion... “If it were me, this is what I would do.”

So as this stinky pandemic year comes to a close, if you are lucky enough to have loved ones around you, give them a big hug and a extra helping of love this Christmas. If they are passed, close your eyes, take a deep breath, and let the warmth of their love fill your souls once more. Go through a picture album or a cedar chest or an old jewelry box and remember how life was stitched together. Maybe this year we should all raise a toast to memories past, present, and better ones yet to come. And as Tiny Tim would say, “God bless us, everyone.”

A Beautiful Saturday Morning

It's a beautiful Saturday morning.
Blue skies.
Sunshine streams in the bedroom window.
Jethro joins me on the bed as if to say, "Good morning, Mom!"

The sunshine bounces off his lush sable and white coat
as I admire some lovely red highlights in his fur.
What a lucky girl am I
to have this magnificent creature in my life.
As I pet him, I ponder what today will bring.
Perhaps being serenaded by songbirds on the patio
with a cup of java would be a good start.
Mmmm.

Then I hear it.
A distant "Yip!" outside my window.
The bubble bursts.
Jethro, liked greased lightening,
shrieks down the hallway
proclaiming his daily headline news:
"It's Carter!"
(Sigh)

And so I'm brought back to reality
greeted by the neighborhood Labrador retriever,
who kindly reminds me what time it is.

But it's Saturday.
And the skies are still blue.
And it's sunny outside, too.

© 2020 All rights reserved.

Social Media: A Power Race

To quote Merriam-Webster…

Social Media: forms of electronic communication, such as websites, for social networking, blogging, through which users create online communities to share information, ideas, personal messages and other content…

Community: a group of people who have the same interest, religion, race, etc.; a unified body of individuals; a group people with common interests; social activity; fellowship…

The juxtaposition of these two terms to me seems so ironic. Social media creates opportunities to form communities of common interests, to share ideas that bond us together. Yet, contrarily, when ideas don’t support our interests, we use the social media experience to blast messages and content to convey contrasting points of view. Perhaps this effort is done to form new communities. But is it an alternative point of view that we truly believe, or is it mere a popular point of view that we promote? Understandably, we don’t live in a vacuum, and messaging, after all, is a part of the privileged right to the freedom of speech.

Anxiously, we wait to see how many viewers align with our social media messages. How many people have we convinced? How many have we swayed? How many have we provoked? How many have we entertained? How many have we gently prodded? On the other hand, how many have we incited, insulted, demeaned or bullied? The sleuthed evolution seems to have become the devious destruction of reputations. Are truths being spread or is revenge being sought? Is our motive enlightenment or controversy? At times it appears the evolving expression of social media is merely a manipulated player in a blatant power race to reach the perceived finish line.

But that’s just it. What happens when we get to the finish line? What have we achieved? I hope we can live with the results. Good sportsmanship, I fear, is gone. One-upmanship has become its replacement. Challenges should create solutions, opportunities, equality and security. We should aspire to do our very best. And if the best we can do is mudslinging, scaremongering, email hacking, collusion, deception and self-gratification, ladies and gentlemen, we have missed the boat.

We must ask ourselves what are our goals. Are we any safer? Have we left the world a better place for the current and next generation? In the process, we need to have created decent role models and not erased respect. I don’t know about you, but I missed the chapter where the human race was created in complete perfection, where change was not possible and gratitude was not appreciated, where apologies weren’t valued and forgiveness not actionable.

Social media may be a player in a competitive power race, but there is no competition to kindness.

We Are Called…

I had a nice visit with mom on Saturday night. I used the tablet again to carry on conversation with her due to her diminished hearing. She was happy for the company as usual. I brought her up to date after my jury duty, telling her about the criminal trial, but leaving out some of the gory details. Then I remembered something that happened in church last weekend when singing the closing song, and I related that story to her as well.

The closing song was We Are Called by David Haas. I almost didn't make it through the lyrics and started tearing up as I sang. I thought about the twin six-year-old girls who were the victims in the jury trial. The lyrics replayed in my mind…

Come, live in the light!
Shine with the joy and the love of the Lord
We are called to be light for the Kingdom,
to live in the freedom of the city of God!

We are called to act with justice.

We are called to love tenderly. 

We are called to serve one another,

To walk humbly with God.

Come! Open your heart!

Show your mercy to all those in fear!

We are called to be hope for the hopeless,

so all hatred and blindness will be no more!

We are called to act with justice. 

We are called to love tenderly. 

We are called to serve one another,

To walk humbly with God.

To me, that song was confirmation that God indeed tapped each of us jury members on the shoulder to be on that trial and bring justice for those twin girls and their family. I pray we brought them hope and they live in fear no more. Now if the rest of the world could love tenderly, serve one another, and walk humbly with God, we could stop the hatred and it WOULD be no more. If only...

[Here is a rendition of We Are Called sung by the Notre Dame Folk Choir you might enjoy.]

Feeling Grateful…

Bosco was so cute this morning. I hated to leave him to go to work. He pranced and twirled as I put his collar on to go outside. He doesn't do a lot of that at his age, so to see him get “puppy feet” is a real treat. 

When I came home from work, I couldn’t wait to see the furkids again. Bosco trotted down the steps to greet me, exhibiting his eagerness with tail wagging and head-butting. 

And Buffy—eager to see Bosco—jumped on the chair above Bosco's back. She stuck her tiny calico paws between the chair slats. Then the canine tail chase began. Bosco has so much fur, he doesn't even notice when Buffy swats at his tail. 

“Bosco, buddy, did you miss me?”

Slurp. 

“Want to go outside?”

Slurp. 

“Kisses?”

Ever so gently, he gave me another slurp. 

He waited patiently to go out even as I discovered I was stuck in my coat from zipper failure. Once back inside, he remained patient as I realized I STILL was stuck in my coat. At last, I secured my freedom. 

“Okay, are you hungry?” 

He answered with more prancing. 

I prepared his first food bowl, which was inspected and quickly devoured. Then I got that in-your-face stare. 

“Are you still hungry?” I asked. 

Bosco moved in a little closer to me to affirm his answer with a giant “BURP” reply. That gesture was followed by another gentle face slurp. 

“Thanks, buddy. I’m SO glad you burped BEFORE you got in my face and kissed me.”

The second bowl of food disappeared as quickly as the first. Bosco’s belly was full. Content that mom was home, Bosco knew life was good.

Buffy, ever patient, was also fed. She conveyed her gratitude by snuggling and kneading. It was finally time for all of us to relax. And yes, this was a very good day.

 (Sigh.)

  

Let Us Take a Lesson

I find it amazing that while out walking my dog, Bosco, I realize he has gained celebrity status. Not as big as Lassie, mind you, but he still has that "aha" discovery factor when someone gets sight of him. I know or am acquainted with many of my neighbors, yet  I have more people excitedly waving at me who, in reality, I have no idea who they are. Part of this confusion might be the sun in my eyes or tinted car windows, but many times I am just clueless. Their excitement is not in seeing me, but seeing my dog with me. "Look, there's Bosco!" I glance up and just politely wave back. 

I try to practice my return wave to get it down pat. You know, that gentle cupped wave that royalty and pageant queens have mastered. I'm at a slight disadvantage as I am sure the Queen doesn't wave at her fans while gripping a poop bag. Alas, grace and coordination have never been some of my strong suits. 

I do my best to disguise my surprise to Bosco's fan club. Along with the gracious wave, I simultaneously deliver the skilled expression of, "Ah yes indeedy, I recognize you!" Hopefully as people pass by in their vehicles, they are not able to read my lips as I ask Bosco, "Do you know who that was?" 

Cheers may be the place where everybody knows your name, but life B.D. (before my first dog, Mollie the Collie), nobody knew my name. With life A.D. (after dog), I was donned with the neighborhood nickname "Mollie's Mom." People still didn't know my name, and that was okay. But having a dog and walking the neighborhood was like having my own personal ambassador. Introductions were forthcoming. Genuine interest was shown in my dog's life, then in my life, and these greetings led to many new friendships. If I wasn't out walking my dog, the questions came—why not, is Mollie (and now Bosco) alright, have you been sick, is the dog feeling okay, how about that awful weather we've been having, were you on vacation, and so forth.

It occurred to me that the world needs more dog-like ambassadors who are able to neutralize situations. Dogs are blind to race, color, creed, ethnicity, socioeconomic status and politics. They give confidence to children, strength to the infirm, comfort the elderly, pure joy to the anxious. They know kindness, gentleness, assurance and love. They, like many other good-hearted souls, are eager to please. For a pat on the head, a bowl of kibble, a warm blanket, and a loving home, they are your forever friend. Mess with their loved ones, and they spring into action to protect their flock, their family. They have your back, no questions asked.

In this world where people are so eager to condemn, jump to conclusions and unwilling to communicate, let us take a lesson from dogs. Let us be ambassadors of goodwill in our neighborhoods, our jobs, our travels and in our schools. Let us learn to live simply, serve compassionately and love equally. And then, perhaps, we will sleep peacefully and behave confidently to know we have each other's backs.

Toolbox Gracias

When I was a kid, I always marveled at my brother Jeff’s toolbox. He had all kinds of tools and gadgets to do just the right job. Being the model builder enthusiast that he was, he was always building or putting something together. From time to time, I remember borrowing his tools to work on some project or hobby, somewhat thrilled about the possibilities that expert tools brought. 

One Christmas, Jeff bought me my very own toolbox and stocked it with some basic supplies including pliers, a hammer, sandpaper, jeweler’s screwdrivers and files, braces, etc. I was THRILLED, and realized that Jeff probably was, too, since I would no longer need to borrow tools from him. Bless his heart.

Maybe that’s where my first love of gadgets came from. Today I have just about every kitchen utensil you could think of, lots of sewing gadgets, an assortment of presser feet and attachments for my sewing machine, and a decent amount of garden tools. And, of course, I still have that original toolbox and have over the years added various tools. While it might look like a meager toolbox compared to the handymen of the world, it works well for me and has come to my rescue many times.

My brother Jeff and his wife JoEllen were in town the other week and stayed with me. While here, Jeff and I attempted to work on a birdhouse rehab project that I started. We took a ride over to a hardware store and picked up some supplies for the birdhouse. Jeff asked me if I owned a router. I drew a blank — nope, didn’t think I had one. He picked one up for me, and we used it with my electric drill once we got home. 

I went to that old toolbox and pulled out a few tools I thought we could use. I was thinking to myself this tool box gift had now gone full circle, and here we were working on a project together…probably some 35 years or more after that memorable Christmas. While we didn’t complete the birdhouse, I definitely had more ideas about how to finish it.

After Jeff and Jo returned home, I received a “thank you” package in the mail. I thought it was going to be a box of jams and snacks. Well, it was a box of more tools! I am now the proud owner of a jigsaw, a slick set of drill bits, and a “high-tech” stud finder. Oh the ideas raced through my mind again. I wonder what kind of fun trouble I can get into with a jigsaw? The stud finder definitely will help me more easily hang my own wall art…but will it work on my next blind date? Hmm…I guess the possibilities continue to be endless if you have just the right tool…and a big brother who looks over your shoulder at just the right time. Gracias.