Life Topics

A Walk in the Woods

The once buried autumn leaves were scattered throughout the trail, dried out from the last snow fall.
Scattered winter branches and twigs littered the path.  Tree roots peeked through the leaves which could cause an ankle injury if you weren’t paying attention.  Picking up your feet was required to continue.  Downhill was tricky as my boots would slip on the leaves, narrowly missing roots.  Today was a gift of early spring, calling us to the trail for a mid-afternoon walk with McDermott our dog.

The creaking whine of large tree branches high above would remind you of a squealing animal when the wind moves through the woods.  We hardly noticed it as we “talked treason”, as the Irish say.  Quiet seclusion is the perfect place for conversation.  Walking side by side keeping an eye out for the dog, our legs and breathing in sync, connecting with each other beyond routine.  Nature wipes out a revving mind, a worried mind and focuses on basic steps and the simple beauty of the empty wood.

A mile and a half into the walk, we rounded a corner approaching my favorite knoll of pine trees.   This is the place where the air drapes over me in calm.  I walk below the pines and hope he feels the same way.  This location approaches the last bridge before we complete the circle, so it’s my last exhale before we go back to our life.  Looking forward as the path winds to the bridge makes me happy and sad at the same time.  The parking lot is not far.  I don’t want to go home yet.

McD takes this last opportunity to leap over some downed trees off the path and run into the water to muddy his paws.  I don’t care if my car gets filthy.  He circles around and repeats his joy, running ahead of us.  McDermott’s freedom of movement brings me to a place of total comfort.  Animals are meant to run free without consequence.  They show you how much they enjoy the occasional untethering, and I’m excited for him.

Ask me what my favorite thing to do is?  A long walk in the woods with my sweet dog and my committed partner.  We solve problems, cherish memories, and have some laughs.  We lovingly reconnect in a way that you can’t plan or even expect.  The change of scenery reaches into a place we don’t often go.  It can be all encompassing allowing us to have the simplest of thoughts reflected in our basic wooded surroundings.  It is magical.

Life Topics

Death

Death is an evil muse, an uninvited bitch, tearing our fragile heart out without a thought. Emotions can be like a roller coaster climbing to highs of comfort and acceptance, then down with the sweet memories that you have in the dark, alone.  You try to hear their voice again, remember their touch.  Confusion and sadness can drape the survivors, who wonder if there is a God.  “Why” echoes throughout the grieved, a question that is flatly unanswered.

I’ve been thinking a lot about death lately.  I am on the threshold of my elder years and am starting to feel the tender pain of loss.  A pain that time will conveniently tuck away.  Hardly any time goes by that I hear of a death of someone I know or know of.  It’s depressing.  A dear friend has just passed and that caused me a quiet agony for all the memories we will never have.  Life without her has left a wide gaping hole.  She touched my life so profoundly that I feel like I’m a better person because of her.

The fear of having so many empty holes in my life scares me.  No one lives forever, however, we carry on as if death is a whisper that we cover our ears not to hear.  But our eyes and hands can see it coming after those who suffer.  All we can do is helplessly look on.  Dad is now fragile and is quickly failing.  He is like the living dead.  Every visit is our last, every hug is tighter, every laugh turns into quiet tears.  My ability to handle his impending death is doubtful.  I can’t bring myself to prepare.

I wish I knew what exactly I’m trying to say.  I just know that I am afraid of death.  Afraid of the aftermath, the sorrow, the loss.  And angry, yes angry!  I want my “whys” to be answered, but alas it’s not for me to know.  I guess the only answer to feeling this way is to live.  Don’t take the people in your life for granted.  Stop and have that conversation with your neighbor, turn off the TV and call a friend, hug for just a few seconds longer and build fabulous memories.  Because when you remember, you honor a life in a way that keeps them in your heart forever.

 

Life Topics

Anatomy of a Yard Sale

Writing about a yard sale isn’t exactly cutting edge.  If you’ve ever attempted to off-load dusty objects that you once couldn’t live without, or thought you somehow needed in the future – it can be an emotional circus of epic proportion.  I must have imagined, at one time, that owning 4 apple corers would enhance my life beyond expectation.  Or, if called upon for a favor, I could magically produce a kitchen gadget that would impress even Martha Stewart.  However, the experience left me staring at decades of  “inventory”, that read like a diary of  chaos and gluttony.

The parts of the yard sale can be greater than the sum.  Each activity involved mental angst over the memories that I infused into them, like the reeking odor of an overly perfumed woman.   “I remember the holiday we used those dishes….remember we made Christmas cookies with those cutters?….I used to read this book to Adam when he was little……”  I mumbled half-hearted regrets to myself as cars were loaded,  and kids skipped away with Colin’s favorite game.   I’m not saying that everything sold put me in a spin.  I just realized that there is a headset that you need to have to peddle your goods, and necessary advice – “Detach yourself from your junk, or DON’T HAVE A YARD SALE!”

So as the day wore on we watched the identity parade of bargain hunters ebb and flow.   We priced items and reduced prices during the lull, as we heard the intermittent downshift of cars pulling over; some sounding like a last-minute decision, others slowly and deliberately.  For the serious bargain hunter,  we were on the day’s yard sale itinerary.    Whatever their reason for stopping, I knew that the sound of car doors closing meant possible sales.

We met neighbors we’ve never met, and all walks of life.   People stop by to find items that were lost in a divorce, like air conditioners and cooking pots.  Some had no desire to browse,  as they inquired if we had things like WWII memorabilia, small tables, and antique tools.  No, no and no.  One woman examined a “like new” $4 iron, for at least 40 minutes.    “Does it leak?”  “Does it really shut off automatically?”  We offered to plug it in, as I explained that all irons leak a little until they’re warmed up and the water turns to steam.   She struggled with the decision, like she was buying a new car.  She parted with the money, asking one last time, “does it leak”.   I no sooner turned to scan my remaining items, and she had returned for a refund.  A case of overwhelming buyers remorse.  I imaging that the possibility of a  leaky iron was too much to take, no matter how much it cost.

Jamie made a decision, early on, that he was the one to price items.  This came about after I offered everything that wasn’t marked for $1.  He’d roll his eyes, or shake his head like a parent disappointed in a child.  I gladly put him in charge of the money, so I could concentrate on product placement and hosting responsibilities.  Some shoppers noticed his shrewd, but fair pricing, and my lack of market knowledge (“Miss $1”), and waited for him to go to the bathroom to negotiate with me.  We caught on to this and had a good laugh with a woman who came clean, admitting this strategy.  She was offered a discount, based on her initiative and honesty.

The best part of the day was when Jamie negotiated with a little girl over  a small orange beaded purse.  He would have given it away, but she was there to play.   She  held the bag in the palms of her hand, like it was an injured bird, allowing him to see its full value.   Her firm, but gentle grip, revealed that she was serious.  They talked about the price, as she would excuse herself to confer with her mother.  This went on for several minutes, until she came back to Jamie with the purse, and an old Sony Walkman.  If she was going to spend her birthday money, it was going to worth it.  He finally turned to me, and said, “how much for the purse and Walkman?”  Here was my chance.  “One Dollar!!!!!”

I didn’t mention why we had a yard sale.  Jamie and I have decided to live together after 15 years.   As I say to people, “we didn’t want to rush into anything.”  I think the timing is right.   Jamie’s lake house is small and comfortable, as long as clutter is kept under control.  So, I’ve come to terms with only keeping important things like my lucky Kentucky Derby hat and my Woody and Buzz Lightyear action  figures.  As far as those memory infused things, well,  Colin’s game may live to see another yard sale, if all the pieces remain.  Adam is grown as well, and will not be needing to read that beloved book.  It is etched in his heart, and on his tattooed arm (Ferdinand).  The book may end up at a library book sale anyway, or going off to college with a kid who loved it as much as Adam.

Now, where did I put my new apple corer?

Life Topics

Winter Night

woman_winterlargeWalking alone, I look down,
darkness surrounds my limbs.
Step carefully to find firm ground,
ice and stones remind you of hard times.
Each step creates a crunch in the snow.

Looking up, I can see my breath
and the beauty of the winter sky.
Stars so close, their light excites
and guides your path.  I can touch them
if I reach high enough.

Listen to your breath, as you wear a
heavy coat and daytime worry.  The snow
starts to come down, covering
you in shiny crystals, like a shawl
of renewal.

Let the wind intermittently take away sound,
as you cover your ears with your hat.
The chest must be covered by a scarf,
or the chill will distract your thoughts.
The soul must be covered by warm
memories or the cold will be your
enemy.

The chilly night will guide your dreams
if you stay warm and follow your
heart.

Life Topics

The Lake

ScoutBall

A house alive come summer
breezes.  The lake becomes a
gathering place for song and
soul.

Nurture what you have internal,
it lays waiting in the winter.  The
buds will bring out what’s forgotten.
Splashing and laughter paint
the sky.

Make warm memories, and be sure
to remember.
Time can look through the window
with narrow eyes and only a spark of light.
Dilute the unforgiven, and breathe in
deep comfort.

Water waves slowly,  planning  your daydreams.
Move in harmony with the clouds.   Look at
the dog chasing the ball.  Paddle strong and
hold on tight, diversions await you.

Shake when you get out of the water.

Life Topics

Dark Waves

dockLargeWater anchors my dreams.
Memories bob upon rippled
whispers and the thirst of
the moonlight.  I can hear
my name.

Bullfrogs inspire cricket songs.
The lightning tells my story.
Soft rumbles from angels
above, warning the lake of
the coming downpour.

Dark waves lapping are
a burden to the shore.
Step into the warm water with
dew drenched feet and
wipe the tears you
do not have.

Let the striking rain tell you
secrets in your sleep.  Wishing
on stars is not a promise.
Hold onto the thread that
weaves shadows and light.