Focus isn't always a choice...

Rose quartz, moss rock, caramel apple, being a Mom, leisurely pace, no requirements

Pedicure before dinner and a movie, grand pups, sweet young woman whom I love

Mom, little sister, long drive, rain, Dove chocolate, decisions being made, or almost

Doing nothing productive because I can, Bones, No Bake Cookies

Sister in Law=BFF, lunch on the patio, pictures of France, time to catch up, Guinness and Car Bombs, Son in Law and his sister and best friend, baseball game, sunsets, hubby is home

Star Trek, birthday movie, Mexican food and sharing salsa, time with twin, family visitors, dinner out

3 walks this week, little back pain, nerve pain is resolving, ankle is better, joints looser: warmth or movement or sleep or med related...hmm

Perfect biscuit, pumpkin colored thread, clean laundry, travel arrangements made, edamame caviar and watermelon, new grilling recipe, Riesling/Chardonnay, Rummicube, hug in the evening breeze, sweet old lady sleeping through the night, early morning text-son is coming home

Birthday without a cake, even though cake isn't a favorite, because no one to celebrate with. Mother's Day without the kids isn't really Mother's Day.

Hubs gone for the week, doing something he doesn't want to do. It's OK when I travel, but not so much when he travels without me.

Broken toenail the day after a new pedicure

Hard decisions about and for Mom. fading inch by inch. Chest pain, unhappy, lonely, bored. No air. Natural but so hard

Missing, missing, missing. Daughter, Son, Husband, Mom, friendship, celebrations, carefree, innocence, little kids, trust, God

Can't call out my kids teacher anymore, sure wish I could. 

Tired and sad and lonely and bored and confused and unable to help

Sleeping and not sleeping, eating for the sake of eating, headache and tight shoulders

Tears every day, over nothing, over everything

Crying myself a headache...and a sore throat...and hoping the neighbors don't hear...and grand pup worried

So much to be thankful for. So much that hurts my heart.

The good and the bad, the focus is supposed to be a choice. It isn't always...

Scents and Memories

I've heard that the sense of smell is the most primal of all the senses. Going back to the very beginnings of our beginnings. I know smells are powerful memory makers.

There are smells in my life that are constants, either reminding me of people or places or things. Estée is my mom. I love hugging her hello and smelling the cloud of Estée around her. Many times I've purchased Estée for her, in one form or another, whether lotion or powder or perfume, to perpetuate the security and love associated with that cloud.

My older sister was a unique blend of Youth Dew and cigarette smoke. I'm not much for Youth Dew on its own, and who likes the smell of cigarette smoke? But the 2 together, ahhh! Made me smile and breathe deep. It was my sister. That's a smell I'll probably not smell again, since she is gone and it was a unique combination.

White shoulders is a long time Friend. She's worn it since we were in high school, I think, and I never smell it, at a perfume counter or out in public somewhere, without thinking of her.

Hubs wears Halston Z, I think. I don't remember the name, I just know the bottle. And the smell. That smell says he is mine and I am his. It's speaks of history and shared experiences and love.

Perfume is purposeful. The manufacturers work very hard at catching your brain through your nose. But there are other smells. Onions and garlic sautéing in olive oil equals "hope you're hungry!" Pancakes cooking in bacon grease is Pops. Fresh from the oven bread fills the primal "ah, my belly is full!" need. You know, that whole "bread is life" thing. Well, it is for me!

Other smells, a family one, A&D ointment. I know, empirically, that fish oil and vitamins is not a pleasant smell, but for me, the smell of A&D means comfort. It's the relief for the chapped nose of a cold, the ahhh of a scab being soothed from the pull of healing, the comfort of the covering of dry hands or feet or elbow or lips. It also always stirs feeling of love. I now put on my own A&D, but as a kid, it was the gentle hand of love that smeared the comfort.

Pine resin is mountain rest for me. Camping, hiking, sitting in a lounge chair watching a Yellow Bellied Sapsucker fledge from its nest in the hollow of a tree. Campfire smoke is S'mores and guitar music accompanied by voices, meaningful (or silly) conversation and engagements. The smell of horses is the Stock Show and the barns and rabbits and clowns and rodeo. Childhood discovery.

Before my first child was born, I actually thought about, for quite a while, and made a conscious decision about, which baby lotion I wanted to use on my children. There were really only 2, Johnson's and Baby Magic. It never occurred to me to use a non-baby lotion. Probably a good thing, or the decision process might have been agonizing. Anyway, I remember being in a store, in the baby aisle and going back and forth, between the bottles of Johnson's and Baby Magic baby lotion trying to decide. Johnson's was the most popular at the time, I like the smell, it brought to mind visions of babes in arms. Baby Magic was different, almost a little spicy. That was my choice, I didn't want my babies to smell like everyone else's babies, so I chose the less popular, little bit spicy, scent of Baby Magic...and that was all I used. Every day. On both of my kids. Marking them with a perfumed baby lotion that tied them to me in just one more way. When I headed to the hospital to have my second child, I took a cloth diaper that my daughter used as a lovey and smeared it with Baby Magic. Even as I anticipated the birth of the coming child, I knew it would be a while, maybe even a whole day, (gasp!) before I would see my baby, my little girl, again, and I wanted to take a piece of her with me to the hospital, her lovey with her smell.

A few years ago, my Sister-in-Law, my best friend, walked in my house, took a deep breath and said, "Ahh, your house smells like you!" Really? I wasn't cooking. I didn't have candle burning. I hadn't just taken a shower. Really? I asked her what the smell was. Was it my hair spray, my favorite potpourri, the cleaning supplies I use on my sink?  She said it was none of these, or maybe all of them. She recognized my house, because it smelled like me. All that is me.

I never fully understood that until yesterday. Yesterday, I walked in my daughter's house to play with her dogs for a minute while I had a break in my day. She's been gone for five months, now. And her house no longer smells like her. Was it the shower gel she used? One of several perfumes she liked? Was it the cologne her husband used when he would take her out, to dinner or a friend's wedding? Her various lotions, always appropriate to the season? Was it the candle scents she preferred? Was it the cleaning products I used to keep her house safe for her? Was it the usual meals I cooked, like grilled cheese, or Mac and Cheese, that she could and would eat in those many months of treatments? I think it was all of those things. And because she is gone, those magical combinations of smells that mark her and her space as my daughter are gone.

I knew I missed seeing her face. I knew I missed feeling a hug. I knew I missed hearing her voice. I did not know that when I walked in her house, and it didn't smell like her anymore, that I would cry.

My baby boy is 25!

How is it possible that my sweet baby boy, my heart, is 25 years old? It was only yesterday, surely!

Oh Honey, I love you so much. I think about how I loved your baby self and it's hard to believe I could love you more than I did then, but I do. I know that still and always, my heart sings when I hear your voice or see you walk into a room.
 

It's difficult to hold a single thought as I think about the last 25 years. There has been a whole lot of living and a whole lot of loving that's rolled through those years.

I think about your sweet round baby legs, the extra roll hiding inside the leg of your diaper. I remember when you reached teenagehood, marveling that those sweet little pudgy legs could possibly have grown  into the hairy man legs you have now! I guess you'd look pretty silly as a grown man with fat baby legs!!

I remember so much of your young life in conjunction with your sister. Since you were only 17 months younger than she was, you 2 were basically a unit for a very long time. I couldn't let either one of you out of my sight, so you were together all the time. I distinctly remember, however, having you in the car by yourself when you were 2 or so. I didn't realize, until that drive, that you could talk! As in, full sentences, talk!! Because your sis did so very much talking, you just never had to. But once your voice was unleashed, wow!
 

And yet, you'd let her talk as much as she wanted. Remember, driving home from church? I'd ask you kids what you'd heard the priest say. You'd quietly sit there, making like you were thinking, and let her answer. And then you'd chime in with EXACTLY the same thing she said!!! You thought you were so sneaky. Sometimes, I'd hold her back and make you go first. Then the squirming would start!! Haha! But it did make you begin to pay attention, since you never knew when I would pull that on you!  
 

I remember baseball and street hockey, but you always loved swimming best. Such a little fish. And your bike. I think you could ride a bike when you were 3! You always had such a natural body awareness and strength. And you, much like your Dad, just presumed you could do anything you decided you wanted to do...and then did it.

You also were always a natural leader, even as a little one. I think your innate confidence and sense of self allowed you to lead and made others comfortable in following. I was always thankful for your equally strong innate sense of goodness, of right and wrong. That part of you that is from Pops. I sure wouldn't have wanted to figure out how to redirect you, had you decided to lead a gang or something!
 

You're so smart! Math and science, philosophy. I've always loved your writing. Your written voice sounds so much like your spoken voice, I can picture you saying what you write. That is also true of your Marno. You must have gotten that from her. I think back to elementary school. A couple of teachers thinking you were behind. They just didn't know you were uninterested! Haha! I'll never forget sitting in that conference with teachers, the principal, the building resource teacher. The BR teacher talked about testing you and how it was going along fine and then you just kind of hit a wall and she didn't quite understand what had happened. I just laughed. I knew EXACTLY what had happened. You were done, over it, finished! She didn't understand, because you maintained your charm, politeness, wit, really your "presence", and she said that when children were done, they usually threw the equivalent of a tantrum. Not you!! You would never be disrespectful or angry or uncooperative, on the surface, but you just took over the session and took it your own way. I'm not sure, but I don't think I've ever been more proud of you than I was that day, knowing that you were you and perfect and great, and unwilling to just be what someone else wanted you to be, just for the sake of conforming.
 

I remember taking you for your first audition, Rumplestiltskin. You wanted to try out, because a friend of yours had done a Missoula Children's Theater production the year before. We were in a gym, with probably 50 kids and their mothers. In a giant circle. They taught you all one line, "and I'll spin, and I'll spin, and I'll spin your hair to gold." Each child, in turn, said the line. Some with shyness, some with boldness, some with the giggles. And then it was your turn. You didn't just say the line, you ACTED the line. I felt the hush in the gym, the attention of the kids and adults alike, and I knew I'd be at the gym every day for reversals because I knew YOU were Rumplestiltskin! You were gone. Your first love, from then on, would be the stage!

Next was Peter Pan, after our big move. I knew then, too, during the audition, that the part was yours. You were so nervous. And so worried because we were camping that weekend, and you were afraid, if you didn't answer the phone if the director called you to offer you a part, that they'd just go on to someone else. You didn't understand, she would have hunted you down. YOU were Peter Pan! We drove into a pay phone, so you could call our answering machine. And then you just had to call Marno to tell her! Joy, pure joy. Yours and mine!

Lots of shows later, you've chosen the theatre as your life's pursuit! Costumes. You still love the acting. I was more than delighted to see you back on stage in the Mikado last spring. Now you are making your mark at Yale!! YALE! And you still are not content to just do what everyone else is doing. You are going to make the program your own. You're going to make it work for you. And in the process, you are touching a system and making it better! Who would have thought a simple spreadsheet would be enlightening?!
 

You are cream, you realize that, don't you. Cream always rises to the top. It is the best, the brightest, the most sought after. It is the prize. You are a prize!!!

My dear, sweet son. I love you more than I can say! I love you more than my heart can hold! Remember, when your sister died, we talked about the fact that rather than the heart feeling like it had a  hole, a missing piece, it really felt more like it was overflowing? A wellspring of love flowing out of the heart and filling the mind and body with the purity of love?  

My heart overflows with love for you! I love you with every thought and every fiber of my being. I love you with every breath.

ILYEM!!

Mom
 

Letter to Heaven

Hi Baby Girl,

How's your day? That sounds funny, but I'd really like to know. Does Heaven have day and night? Do you get to nap? You loved a good nap. Have you met any sweet little ones today. I can picture you greeting kids, as they arrive. You loved bright, well-behaved children, and I can only imaging that all little ones entering Heaven have no longer any reason to be grumpy, or disagreeable, or contrary or unhappy. Children, especially little girls, always thought you were a princess. I can only imagine that in the perfection of Heaven, you are, indeed, the image of Princess! I picture you, beautiful, perfect, happy, radiant and just shepherding the children about, holding hands, reading, singing. The children, I'm sure, love to hear you sing. You could Irish Step dance for them, too. You have the energy and the grace to dance all you want.

Your dad and I have had a busy weekend. We've deiced the drain spout, watering can by watering can of hot water. Your dad had the torpedo heater out, even! He does love his gadgets. As well as his big metal fire extinguisher.  Pressurized hot water! Crazy, but it worked. The new patio and deck are awesome, but there are some challenges that were not anticipated...

We watched Wild Card football off and on all weekend. The games were uninspired. I'm hoping the rest of the playoffs are a bit more exciting. It still fascinates me that you liked to watch football. Not all day long, any game, football, like your hubby and so many men, but still, you liked football. That is a conundrum. Prissy, girly you, liking football!

We got new bedroom furniture this weekend, too. Gorgeous and huge. We got a platform bed, the original intent was to have a bed that was a bit lower. Instead, it's higher!! I can see you laughing at us as we figure out how to make it work for the dogs!! All 5 of them, yours and ours.

Talked to your "Lil' Brother" today. He had a revelation: he'll be 25 in 2 weeks. Isn't that crazy?? He's all grown up. Well, mostly... I keep thinking that in a little more than a year, he will be older than you. How can that be? Unimaginable, but still...

I have to laugh at your hubby. You and he were perfect for each other. If for no other reason than the fact that you are both terrible texters!! It was always so funny to me, that you were an excellent communicator, except via electronics. I can't tell you how many times you didn't answer the phone, didn't return a voice mail, didn't respond to a text or email. I think you would answer in your mind and that was that. Or maybe you figured that you'd talk to whomever later, so you'd catch up then. I don't know, but your hubs is exactly the same. I'm actually a bit surprised when I get a response in a timely fashion!! 

I'm traveling this week. Frigid Idaho. You're here with me, though you know I'd much rather you were at home, on the couch, with Sophie on your lap, so I could call you on the phone and talk about nothing. Instead, I talk to you in my head all day long. I wish you'd answer me...

ILYEM!!!

Mom