Author: Jo Toale

Jo is a media professional working in Massachusetts. She is the founder of Dilettante life, and the co-host of the podcast Dipstitch (dipstitch.net, available on Spotify and Apple podcasts). She enjoys writing for Dilettante Life observing life and sharing experiences.
Life Topics

Queer Eye

Jo Toale

I’ve never been much of a social person.  In fact, being in the “out” crowd is perhaps where I belong.  I’ve been called weird and strange so many times.  In gatherings I tend to be an outlier, off to the side, at a distance to observe more so than partake, taking a cat’s eye view.  I notice the popular one, the supporter and the arbiter.  A crowd gathers around them.   They’re talking about things that I would only have something negative to say.  So, why would I join?  They converse in a way that draws in the observers with little opinion and even less self-esteem.  I won’t be part of that.

Instead, I choose misfits, malcontents, and uniquely disguised individuals to seek out. They are easy to find in other corners of the room.  I may find my voice there.  Conversations can start off somewhat strangely, as topics range from the simple to sublime, useless facts, fun trivia, and common ground. I hope to get a toe hold on the discussion.  After all, these are my people.  Unique points of view ensue and can form from a place of fancy.  They have my full attention.

On this “island” I feel free to express myself without full conviction or contempt.  I’m not revealing too much.  Socializing has some pitfalls for the humble.  However, I like how Bill knows a lot of useless facts and Tammy refers to her sick son as The Puker.  I laugh too loud, and it feels good. I lean in to hear Scott give a mock guilty confession about shoplifting at age 8.  I don’t have a story like that. It feels like the B team is hitting it off.  We agree to move to the fire and gather around it like moths.

The crackling fire is background music to our conversations.  The glowing flames change the way people look, making them seem surreal.  Chairs are fitted tight around the curves, and we all relax.  I tell a lame joke and notice Kevin’s orange face lights up when he smiles, while the others politely laugh.  We continue to amuse each other with antidotes and tales of absurdity.  I start to think, I do like to socialize but have always been a little apprehensive.  Maybe not wanting to get too close to anyone, to reveal who I really am.

After a while, the entire party moves to the fire pit.  One by one, people trickle over to see what we’re talking about and to get warm.  The circle widens to let them in, and a whole new genre is created.  Everyone is truly enjoying each other.  Misfits and dilettantes mingle with the popular and good looking.  A common thread appears out of nowhere and voices of agreement and laughter erupts.

I started this evening off with a queer eye, and ended with empathy, camaraderie, and friendship.  And dare I say, a chance to comfortably socialize.  I may not be popular or wildly interesting, but I can hold my own.  Sometimes it’s with a little liquid confidence oiling my ego, I find it easier to fully engage.  We all have our vices.  I’m learning to be more inclusive, both in giving and taking of my time; reflecting.  Because you can’t reach out without first reaching in.

Pull up a chair and let’s talk.

Life Topics

The Porch

Jo Toale

The Craftsmen style porch is solid and new with the signature Cape Cod shakes on the outside and fresh white trim. Rocking chairs as well as overstuffed chairs line the inside making it an extension of this comfortable beach house.  I move a rocking chair to the top of the porch steps to get a better view of the street and slowly rock. The neighborhood is still asleep.  I had figured out how to use the coffee machine when I got up, so a warm mug was my companion.  Sipping hot hazelnut coffee, I entertain random thoughts and quirky ideas that I seldom have the luxury to do.   There’s nothing on the schedule today.   To my left, the sun slowly arcs upward as I watch it momentarily rest behind a tree.  A little further away, I can hear crashing waves and cawing gulls at the shoreline.  We are only a short sandy block from the ocean. Dave and Jayne are out early for their daily beach stroll.   It is 5:30am and I’m enjoying this alone time rapt in thought and sunshine.

We were excited to get away.  We had been to Dave and Jayne’s a few times, but this was the first time this summer.  We don’t often see them, except for a few get-togethers here and there.  They invited us for a couple of days of total relaxation and friendship.  We took off on a Thursday making it a quick 2-hour ride without the mangled weekend Cape traffic.  As we approached Thomas Avenue at 3pm, we could see beachgoers walking home along the main road.  They looked tired and tanned, lugging chairs, bags, and kids.  The salty breeze and a hint of sunscreen wafted into our open car windows.  We had arrived.  We turned onto Thomas and saw Dave’s dark blue car parked in front.

From the driveway, we couldn’t believe our eyes.  They had renovated, adding a new front porch.  Their house looked totally different.  The cedar shakes, bright trim and thick columns welcomed you from the street.  The house was transformed from a bland façade to a bonified classic beach house.  We were met at the back door by Dave and Jayne, where they greeted us with hugs as they ushered us in.  Jayne was preparing an early dinner of seafood for Dave to grill when ready.   Jamie and I went outside with Dave to have drinks on the porch before dinner.  I was immediately hooked.  This new space was bright with wide plank floors and a high roof.  To me, it felt alive with a gentle breeze, muted street noises and glowing sunshine.  I found my happy place for the visit.

From that point on, the porch was our coveted gathering spot.  Coffee in the morning, relaxing after the beach, drinks before dinner, nightcap at bedtime.  We only slept in the house.  All our waking hours were spent either at the beach or talking for hours on the porch.  We drove into town for dinner one night having pizza and ice cream, then walked around the historic picturesque harbor.   The evening was bustling with excited tourists and townies alike.  Jayne and I found an old bench along the winding harbor walkway to finish our ice cream and people watch for a few minutes, while Dave and Jamie talked under a nearby tree.  I would jump up to scratch a cute dog every so often, as I am weirdly obsessed with dogs.  Finishing our ice cream, we meandered a few blocks back to the car, and eventually back to our anchor – the front porch.

We bonded over a couple of days, sharing stories and experiences all while feeling the salt air on our skin and the warm ocean breeze in our hair.  Sitting in comfy chairs, the dim porch light above created an intimate setting to unwind, tell truths, and laugh uncontrollably.  It’s not easy to find friends and we were all silently comforted by our long-time commitment to each other and the joy of spending time together.  I’m convinced that a house isn’t a home without a unique place within it to bring the people you love.  In this case, it was that wonderful pristine new porch.  Dave and Jayne confessed that they hardly used the porch before we came, but might start now.  They may have realized, through outside eyes, how warm memories can continue to be created here.  A special place that makes your heart grow fonder.

Life Topics

Love Letter to JP

Jo Toale

What can I say about JP?  Well, let me introduce you to one of the most admired persons in my life.  He is not only kind, considerate and loving, but he has overcome obstacles of which many of us have never experienced. I applaud his stamina and grit.  Truthfully, I used to dream about the “old JP” that I had missed, the guy who showed up early for every party.  He would bring a dish I could never imagine making but would bring so much flair to it that you had to try it.  Boy, could he cook.  His anticipation was contagious.  But, I realize now that the “before” JP has never really gone away.  He may not cook the same way, but he is still there in heart and in soul.   Only now, he is contained in a chair that only makes you a more captive audience.  His smile and kisses are as sweet as they always were.  Life is good with JP.

I love you.  Since the day I met you, I realized that you were a one-of-a-kind person.  Your love exudes humor and mild contempt, making me proud and tickled.  Sarcasm does not escape me.  We both appreciate a good laugh.  Your playful banter brings me to a place of delight.  You may be confined but your humor knows no limits.  Come to my yard and play, I secretly ask, and you oblige.  How you doin?

Your relationship with Lynn is an example of true commitment and faith.  We can all see how much love is between you.  That’s all we wanted for you.  After a few tentative relationships, the woman of your dreams finally showed up.  We were happy and a little relieved to say the least.  She is warm, kind and lovely; everything you deserve.  And now, she has proven that love knows no limits.  Her commitment is quiet and profound; selfless.   And you return that love in droves.  A truly strong partner.

This is my love letter to you.  You have made a grand impression on me.  You have taught me so much about what is important in life.  When you show up at bocce, I am excited to see and touch you.  I am happy to be a part of your life.  I may not see you a lot, but you’ve made a deep impression on me.  I carry your smile, your compassion and wit with me.  Yet, I somehow feel unworthy.  Why?  Because I could never face your challenges as you have with such dignity and grace.  You are my superhero, my true friend.

So, here we are.  Just two people enjoying our life.  Happy to spend time together whenever we can.  Wondering why life has thrown so many curve balls.  But at least we’re at the plate swinging.  Looking for the sweet spot on that bat, that’s going to hit it out of the park.  You’ve hit it out, way out.  I have watched you go from life of the party to a life of achievement and happiness.  Bringing your true self to a place of contentment and joy.  I will certainly drink to that because, well, I drink to everything.  You know that about me.

Cheers to my friend!  Thank you for never giving up on me, while I’ve never given up on you.  We are two peas enjoying the pod.  A friendship that will never die.

All my love.

Life Topics

Pitfalls

Jo Toale

My attention span is short at best.  Like a dog, if I see a squirrel, I immediately divert my energy.  I find myself scrolling through Facebook and all the “squirrels” have me bouncing around.  I’m noticing that I get caught up in all kinds of nonsense.  I can pass by the pleasantries and the sappy, yet poignant posts, the quotes and life lessons with an occasional share.  I’m not that insightful really.  Why not share something I never would have posted myself, like children are a treasure, believe in yourself, live in the moment, etc.?  Instead, where do I usually go?  To the visual pitfalls of lazy curiosities.

Don’t show me a recipe video or I’ll be hooked from start to finish, deciding if it’s too trailer trash to make.  Well, if the main ingredient is tatter tots and cheese it might spike my interest. How easy, I could make that.  Could I really serve it?  Probably not, but I have to see it to the end.  There might be an all-important secret to this delightful dish, as only I could master.  As it builds, adding more and more ingredients, I start shifting and make a mental note of the full list of items added.  Way too much work.  Plus, I have to remember that I don’t really like cooking.  I like to eat.
Next.

Oh, there’s a video showing someone fold napkins 200 different ways.  Perfect, I need to see that.  A swan and a flower, who knew?  Beautifully printed fabric napkins were used to create an amazing table to impress the most discerning guest.  If I practiced, I might be able to pull off a swan, I think to myself.  I was looking for the easiest elegant one to try.  Then I remembered that my paper napkins are always an afterthought thrown on the table at the last minute.  No heavy lifting there.
Next.

Hey, a video of someone refinishing a piece of furniture.  Need to get a refresher in this skill.  I’ve refinished items in the past, but it wouldn’t hurt to get more tips.  I like how they speed up sections of the tutorial which makes it seem less arduous, but I know the truth.  You need a lot of patience to undertake these kinds of projects. And even more patience to stay interested from start to finish.  When they put on an ugly piece of hardware or stain, I’m out.  The final product is something I wouldn’t put in my house.  And, if I did display it, I’d have to consider refinishing it.  Here we go again.
Next.

A one-of-a-kind cleaning product.  Yes, interested!  Show me how this works.  Spray on any surface, and voila, like new.  No scrubbing. I like that.  It cleans toilets, pots and pans, sneakers, sinks and furniture.  It’s a miracle, tell me more.  Maybe it could be a dessert topping too, like shown on Saturday night live.  I wouldn’t be surprised.  Heartfelt testimonials follow, showing an undying commitment to the product.  They seem so happy and complete with this find.  And as luck would have, it’s on sale.  Easy payments.  I almost push the button when I realize I don’t clean.  We have a cleaning woman, so we just mindlessly write a check.
Next.

Scrolling, scrolling, hmmmm.  I’m only seeing birthday and news posts.  No videos I can get into at the moment.  Where are the infomercials on building a tree house, 100 ways to braid your hair, or how to remove disgusting black heads?  I feel like there’s nothing left for me to watch today.  I’m tapped out.  Maybe it’s time to put the phone down.

Ooooh a squirrel!

Life Topics

The Wedding

Jo Toale

I stood in the back of the church, tucked behind the side of the windows that look out to the pews.  The flower girls and maids of honor had stepped forward and paced their steps down the aisle to the music.  Looking over to my sons standing near the door, I just stared at them.  I was scared.  They urged me with a head nod to move forward, it was time.  I took a deep breath and slowly moved forward, meeting them at the end of the aisle.  Taking each of their arms, I felt a little reluctant and a bit shaky.  All eyes were on me.  My music was starting.  This was a pivotal moment.  I had waited a long time to get married.

As we slowly moved toward the altar, I felt my life passing in front of my eyes.  I could hardly make out my friends and family in the pews.  My mind was momentarily elsewhere and everywhere, there was no fear, just great anticipation.  I searched for my beloved at the front of the church and focused on his loving face.  He’s always been my rock.  His tear-filled eyes exuded love and urged me forward to be with my best friend, to pledge our love.  Forever.

He took my hand and led me to my ceremonial place, next to him, in front of God.  We were actually doing this.  I had planned and imagined this day for months, but never could know how this moment would feel.  It was magical.  Surreal.  He was smiling and stepped toward me to take my hand.  As I stepped onto the altar, he whispered that I looked beautiful.  I felt beautiful.

We followed the pastor in action and in word, as we did every Sunday.  Except now we were more keenly engaged and committed to the word of God, to this holy sacrament.   As devout Catholics, our marriage depended on it.  We were now the center of attention.  I looked at the stained glass and the altar like I had never seen it before.  I tried to concentrate on the sermon, but tears of joy ran down my face.   I wanted to reach out and kiss him.  Have him hold me for the rest of his life.  As the priest talked, I prayed for strength and devotion, everything my new husband deserved in a partner.

We gave traditional vows, exchanged rings, and made sacred promises.  Promises I shall never ever break.  My tears of joy had been wiped away and I was now captivated in the moment.   Placing the ring on his finger, I made my vows loud and clear for all to hear – in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.  He looked deep into my eyes as I pushed the ring onto his finger, wrapping me in a warm blanket of love and hope.  I was pledging my body and soul as I have never done before.

Our marriage will be long and happy.  We have made and kept all our promises, making each other happy for the last twenty-six years.  We may be “newlyweds” however, we have been on a journey together for a long time, growing in love and spirituality.  Our ceremony was an important milestone that we will always cherish.  Bringing our loved ones together to share this commitment was precious and heartfelt.  It is only with the support of the church, friends, and family that this marriage will continue to be a success.  Our hearts are full, our love is strong, and our faith is unbreakable.

Cheers!

Life Topics

I Do

Jo Toale

I believe that I’ve found my prince charming.  I kissed a lot of frogs to get here.  I’m now with someone I never thought would happen to me.  We are in sync as we step through the challenges of our life together.  No, we would not have ever been pegged as compatible.  Not by a long shot.  We are absolute complete opposites.  In fact, I’m sure some people put money on us not making it.  Yet here we are on the threshold of our wedding, committing ourselves to forever.

In one week, we will be saying “I do” in the eyes of God.  But it goes beyond the religious sense of commitment, as we’ve experienced over the last 26 years.  In reality, it’s more likely I will think “I do respect you but you’re wrong”, “I do love you, but I don’t like you right now”, “I do want to be your partner, but you’re pissing me off.” Our life will be full of “I dos” for a number of reasons.  Real life reasons that sustain us beyond the alter.  I do, and I am who I am, and he is who he is.  And I like him.  Let’s start there.

Laughter has always been a major part of our relationship.  We can make each other laugh in the face of despair or awkwardness.  The foundation of our relationship is the respect we have for each other.  Love comes 3rd or 4th on the list of ingredients to a good relationship, in my humble opinion.  Avoiding drama and keeping it real has been our strength for many years.  We talk openly and honestly no matter what and try to meet up in a place of contentment if possible.  If not, animosities dissipate to the graveyard of of “let’s agree to not agree.”  Laughter usually ensues which can take your breath away, as you realize how trivial the arguments can be.  Remember what’s important.

Beyond the dress and the pomp and circumstance there will be good times and bad, and I’m ready for that.  After all this time together, we know what we’re getting into and welcome it.  It’s not like most newly wedded couples who start their life together, we’ve had a life together.  We’re just starting a new chapter.  We’ve already done the courtship, the “getting to know you”, the comfortable stage.  Our friendship is timeless.  We are just two people who find comfort and strength in each other.  As you say in Jr. High School, “I don’t like him, I LIKE LIKE him.”  I like him so much I think I’ll marry him!

 

Life Topics

In Your Backyard

Jo Toale

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The ice crashes into the glass, soon to be submerged with my thoughts.  Drown it all.  These are my happy hours.  Wet the slate clean.

The doctor said he couldn’t drink.  Drink and you die, abstain and you live.  His ice is submerged with memories in virgin form.  He looks at me with disdain.

I am safe until the next test.  Numbers are a state of mind.  Find a new doctor if they are bad. Smoke a cigarette.

Is this medicine?  Don’t be afraid to say yes.

People are human, I am a cliché that makes no sense.  Ignore advice and love. I am my own business. Bad news will try to find me.  I will hide.

Make no plans, but have ice just in case. Clink, clink and repeat. Clink, clink and repeat.
Taboo lives and breathes in your backyard.

Invite it in for a drink.

Life Topics

I Must Sing

Jo Toale

The blank page is intimidating.  The hollow compliment is confusing.  The echo of doubt is disturbing. How can we follow a path with obstacles or contempt?  Jealousy, ego and loathing can block good intentions.  Mindfulness is the foundation that propels us.   Picture it, and it will become.  Outside voices are unnecessary, both good and bad.  Go forward with guts and ignorance as your tools, not really knowing it can be done.  Just believe fully with the heart of an innocent, and the strength of a bull.

I want to be a writer.  I ask myself, “Why do I think I can do that?”  Well, I have feelings, I have words, I have paper and I have passion.  All necessary ingredients of a storyteller.  Once upon a time, there was a girl who had her head in the clouds wanting to bring others along, describing a magical place, a place you want to go.   My intense desire for people to smell, taste and feel what’s inside of me, comes out in the dark hours at my keyboard.   Solitary hours, building prose that will hopefully relate to the reader.  The sweet fragrance of an observer’s approval and acceptance; even occasional praise.  But I’m not in it for a compliment.  Thank you.

My imagination is fleeting from one situation to another.  My attention span has never been solid.  However, looking at my surroundings brings music, and I must sing.  I have always seen things below the surface.  The winter sky or the mysteries of a frozen lake.  Have you really looked at the winter sky with the shining stars you can almost touch?  Allow yourself to be enticed by a world of words, a place that I want to bring alive.  Please come along with me.

The energy is exuding from my mind to my fingertips.  I focus on the obvious in a way that hopefully makes you really see it.  Reach down inside yourself and spill your experience into your own words.  “I get that…I’ve been there” you may say.  And that is what brings us together.  A common feeling that we may not have known how to describe.  I want to do that for you, do it for us.

I am an untuned instrument trying to make a sweet sound, dreaming, creating, and describing.  My words are not profound.  My thoughts are not prophetic.  I just want to create a place for conversation.  This blog will be my outlet for now, where you can visit as often as you like. A place to share a cup of coffee and read about your own life through another’s eyes. Writer or not, I have a lot to say.  So, join me on my journey because a story isn’t just a story it can be a place called home.

Life Topics

And Then There Was Life

Jo Toale

You think when you’re 21 that you will live forever.  Life seemed simple, as you did anything you wanted. If you gained a little weight, all you’d have to do is skip a meal or two and the pounds disappeared.  If you messed up, a simple sorry (not sorry) would be enough.  You were still considered “a kid.”    You went to work, did your job, and went out for the night, every night.  At that age, you knew everything, and weren’t afraid to act like it.  We thought people over forty were ancient, and our parents were relics, who knew absolutely nothing.  Smoking seemed harmless with merely an afterthought, no matter what anyone said about it.
And then there was drinking.

Nearly every time you saw your friends, which was most nights, you would be drinking. Being drunk was often a side-effect of the two ugly sister’s; anxiety and angst.  Parties were planned at the drop of a hat, if planned at all.  We wiped the slate clean using alcohol to erase anything ugly. We’d stop just in time to start a new day looking fabulous after 3 hours of sleep.  We never thought there was any harm in overindulgence, wishing the nights would last forever.  But the nights didn’t last forever.  The years passed quickly, and those nights of destruction paid a toll on all of us.  For some there were mild effects, enough to make you cut down or stop.  For others, there were more serious consequences; DUIs, family and career issues and at the worst, self-loathing.  Then, in a blink, we were fifty and alcohol-soaked relics.
And then there was the liver.

No one saw it coming, except those who really cared. They could see that he was poisoning himself, one sip at a time.  Long ago were the days of not caring.  He was loving, devoted and hard-working; a superhero, and everybody loved him.  He was an intelligent conversationalist, fun to be around, with a hilarious irreverent wit.  A glass of gin was his silent sidekick, full of confidence and ice.  We all drank with contempt, like we were going to war the next day. Alcohol consumed all of our free time, like in the early days.  I must have been in denial, ignoring signs.  Time and consequences could seem like a myth, stealing your breath away.  Until, finally his handsome complexion and brilliant eyes turned the shade of a lemon.
And then there was “the List.”

After a couple of hospitalizations, things were dire.  We had to face the prospect of death, although he never did.  “There’s nothing we can do” said the ICU doctor after he told me the kidneys were shutting down. The liver was struggling, and the doctor explained that liver patients can’t go on dialysis.   I wailed in front of the hospital elevator doors, a totally broken person.  The love of my life was going to die.  If my tears were prayers he would be well by now.  God, luck, whatever, helped him miraculously turn a corner that night.  Each day that followed was a little better than the last.  There were so many doctors and nurses caring for him, like he was their only patient.  So after 10 days of sleeping in a hospital chair, I started to have backaches and hope.  We were going home.

We packed up the few things that we grabbed in a frenzy on the way to the hospital.  I was full of anxiety, as we were starting a new kind of life.  Things were going to be different.  Countless doctor’s visits followed in the weeks after we left, and he was put on “the list.”  I kept telling myself that the list was a promise that nothing could take him away from me.  A lifeline made up of faith and belief he could one day be healed.  However, there was a catch, “He can never drink again” said the doctors, “or he will die.” 
And then there was life. 

Twelve years later, and he hasn’t had a drink.  This superhero, witty, intelligent, love of my life, relic is here to stay.

We are no longer broken people.

Life Topics

Mom

Jo Toale

It was the first visit without Dad.  They always came in a pair except now she’s “flying solo”.  I wonder if she can navigate without him.  Entering the room, she says a quick hello and rushes to the bathroom.  It was a long, snowy, lonely drive from the Cape for an 85-year-old.  As she left the room, I turned to Jamie frowning and told him I miss my Dad, with only my eyes.  He understood and nodded his head.  Dad has been gone for three months and now it was time to learn who this woman was to me.  Who we all were without Dad.

We were excited to have Mom visit but didn’t know what it would look like.  Dad would always make a joke or comment to take her out of her own head.  She could be bossy, nosy, critical and opinionated, not to mention stubborn.  Mom could also be very loving in a restrictive, lukewarm, guarded way as only an Irish Mother can pull off.  If I poured a glass of wine before 5pm on a Saturday, Mom would either make a slanted comment or give me the “hairy eyeball.”  He, on the other hand, would enthusiastically ask me if the wine was good inquiring like a Sommelier at a fine restaurant.  Dad accepted who I am with all my flaws.  I guess you could say that Dad was a buffer between me and my mother.  He always had my back.

We passed the time watching TV, shopping and eating.  She helped me with wedding plans and we attended Mass on Saturday (before I had my wine).  She only criticized me a few times.  Overall, we had a good time.  I’m starting to get to know that strong, willful person who raised me.  I never really took the time to get to know her before.  The way I see it, I have a choice.  I can reacquaint myself with Mom and get to a new level or continue to grieve a loss without looking forward.  We have a brand-new opportunity to reach out and define ourselves; become reborn in the shadow of death.  Even though she can irritate me, I do recognize that who she is makes her whole and beautiful.  If it wasn’t for her showing me strength and resilience, I wouldn’t be the person I am today.

I have to accept that the missing puzzle piece is gone forever.  The circle has been broken and has left a wide gap.  Is it up to Mom to fill the void?  No, she has her own place.  I was afraid that I wouldn’t know who she would be as a single person.  Now I’m realizing that she’s always been her own person.    I can see that navigating her way through life alone is not a problem for her.  She misses Dad but his absence is part of life, our life.  We didn’t talk about my father much during the visit, but he was there in our hearts and in the music of the wind chimes outside.

I love you Mom.