Category: Life

Leaving us with a gem I hope we harvest and sow again and again

The last published words of John Lewis – sent two days before his passing…
Q&A: Representative John Lewis Will Never Lose Hope
     While my time here has now come to an end, I want you to know that in the last days and hours of my life you inspired me. You filled me with hope about the next chapter of the great American story when you used your power to make a difference in our society. Millions of people motivated simply by human compassion laid down the burdens of division. Around the country and the world you set aside race, class, age, language and nationality to demand respect for human dignity.
     That is why I had to visit Black Lives Matter Plaza in Washington, though I was admitted to the hospital the following day. I just had to see and feel it for myself that, after many years of silent witness, the truth is still marching on.
     Emmett Till was my George Floyd. He was my Rayshard Brooks, Sandra Bland and Breonna Taylor. He was 14 when he was killed, and I was only 15 years old at the time. I will never ever forget the moment when it became so clear that he could easily have been me. In those days, fear constrained us like an imaginary prison, and troubling thoughts of potential brutality committed for no understandable reason were the bars.
     Though I was surrounded by two loving parents, plenty of brothers, sisters and cousins, their love could not protect me from the unholy oppression waiting just outside that family circle. Unchecked, unrestrained violence and government-sanctioned terror had the power to turn a simple stroll to the store for some Skittles or an innocent morning jog down a lonesome country road into a nightmare. If we are to survive as one unified nation, we must discover what so readily takes root in our hearts that could rob Mother Emanuel Church in South Carolina of her brightest and best, shoot unwitting concertgoers in Las Vegas and choke to death the hopes and dreams of a gifted violinist like Elijah McClain.
     Like so many young people today, I was searching for a way out, or some might say a way in, and then I heard the voice of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. on an old radio. He was talking about the philosophy and discipline of nonviolence. He said we are all complicit when we tolerate injustice. He said it is not enough to say it will get better by and by. He said each of us has a moral obligation to stand up, speak up and speak out. When you see something that is not right, you must say something. You must do something. Democracy is not a state. It is an act, and each generation must do its part to help build what we called the Beloved Community, a nation and world society at peace with itself.
     Ordinary people with extraordinary vision can redeem the soul of America by getting in what I call good trouble, necessary trouble. Voting and participating in the democratic process are key. The vote is the most powerful nonviolent change agent you have in a democratic society. You must use it because it is not guaranteed. You can lose it.
You must also study and learn the lessons of history because humanity has been involved in this soul-wrenching, existential struggle for a very long time. People on every continent have stood in your shoes, though decades and centuries before you. The truth does not change, and that is why the answers worked out long ago can help you find solutions to the challenges of our time. Continue to build union between movements stretching across the globe because we must put away our willingness to profit from the exploitation of others.
     Though I may not be here with you, I urge you to answer the highest calling of your heart and stand up for what you truly believe. In my life I have done all I can to demonstrate that the way of peace, the way of love and nonviolence is the more excellent way. Now it is your turn to let freedom ring.
     When historians pick up their pens to write the story of the 21st century, let them say that it was your generation who laid down the heavy burdens of hate at last and that peace finally triumphed over violence, aggression and war.
     So I say to you, walk with the wind, brothers and sisters, and let the spirit of peace and the power of everlasting love be your guide.

What remains

Just picked up my father’s personal effects – I cannot express adequately how strange it is to see his wrist watch in a bag, the ancient but still working glow in the dark dial, still keeping time as he was taking note not long ago…. the band that his wrist lived in for so many years. The gold chain and Anchor that he didn’t ever take off, from his boating /Staten Island guido days. A small delicate gold chain with a tiny anchor, heart and key in a gold box, all tangled, like the mystery of it’s owner. It must have belonged to someone who meant a lot to him for him to keep it, and yet I don’t know whose it was. How is that possible? I’ve spent an hour trying to untangle it, as if that will give me some answers.  (Update: I managed it.)  The worn wallet always in his jeans pocket. The body that anchored those things now ash in a biodegradable urn on a shelf waiting for the boat ride to his final resting place- his request. The photo books we made for him are worn, indicating frequent thumb throughs. I haven’t yet touched the clothes or the things he kept in his nightstand. 
 
Even when you thought you did all you should do so that there would be no regrets, trust me, you’ll find a few.
 
Take the Virus seriously, please people……. it’s no joke, it’s not the flu, it’s not a hoax or political ploy. It’s real and still out there and needs your healthy respect.
 
💔

Let Go Or Be Dragged

Good morning! Star and I compared grays this morning – thankfully ( and surprisingly!) she still has more.
I had an interesting conversation with an old friend last night who was struggling with the pain of a relationship that wasn’t what she believed it to be. I am no expert on relationships, but as we were talking I couldn’t help but notice the same theme being repeated as she spilled out her hurt. No matter how she reached out or what she had done for and with the other person in that particular equation, she always felt it was mostly a one way street. She had a habit of thinking and acting on the idea that she needed to prove herself and her worth, she needed to be what the other person seemed to want… and yet all those efforts didn’t change that particular relationship one bit and most often left her feeling bad about herself.
I don’t know how many of you might have felt the same in any particular relationships throughout your life, but boy could I relate. And it occurred to me as I was trying to sort out reasonable advice or comfort to give…. that the reality probably lies somewhere in the knowledge that maybe we have some work to do, and just as importantly and maybe even more so in many instances, those relationships and their issues are not always worth the tending, whether we’re talking about a family member, a casual friend, a spouse, a coworker, fill in the blank. I’m willing to bet a professional would tell us in many instances the healthiest option is to “let go or be dragged”…. put in the simplest terms. Those who don’t value your presence in their life, past, present or future, don’t deserve your anguish over what isn’t. Tend the relationships that tend you. Love those who love you regardless of whatever your differences or your perceived flaws. If you know your heart is in the right place, don’t ever apologize for who you are, I think it’s so important to be your authentic self in order to be comfortable in your own skin, no matter how uncomfortable that might make someone else. That in itself will attract the right people into your life. I’m realizing I need to practice some of what I just preached, and it’s indeed a new day.
Lastly, forgive  yourself and others when it’s possible, we’re all human, God Help Us.

The Saving Grace

Do I even touch on the shit storm out there in the greater world?  I think not. So much to cover, so little desire to plunge into that muck today.   I’ve started painting again and while I’m no professional artist, not by a long shot, I like the title one of my mother’s friends gave my art – Outsider art…

(fresh off the easel – “Cousins” … my daughter age 8, son 3 and nephew 2… many moons ago on MV) 

Outsider Art  basically  means one who creates stuff without any formal training. That would be me.

Between creating and spending time with my animals here on the farm and down by the sea, I am finding some calm in the storm and I hope you have discovered  little pieces of yourself again by indulging in  those small but important things you enjoy but don’t normally give yourself enough time to do.

So… while the most intelligent life forms on earth continue to pollute it with their selfishness and greed and willful ignorance, the animals and nature and the creativity they inspire remind me there is still much beauty in this world and it’s forever worth fighting for ❤️✨

I’ll leave you with a few scenes from the spaces  and creatures I am so fortunate to tend and love…. and some simple words of wisdom…  Have a safe holiday weekend, all… I’m off to  fold some clothes and mow some lawn. Focusing on the simple things I have control over  has truly been a saving grace in these troubling times.

 

And you’ll know you’re on your path

when you really don’t care what anyone thinks of it –

 

Kung-Flu and other nonsense

Watching Trump’s Tulsa rally the other night was like watching a train wreck in slow motion. Such a rambling jumble of nonsense. Not three notes strung together on Unity  – and if you don’t have your head up your ass right now the unrest in our country is alarming to say the very least, the continuing unjust deaths and blatant racism, and the most ignorant statements on Coronavirus that his handlers later tried to spin as a joke.  Of course.. today he corrected his own staff by saying he was not joking.  Since that rally, 8 of his staff at the rally have tested positive for the virus. His direct quote “”Here’s the bad part: When you do testing to that extent, you’re gonna find more people, you’re gonna find more cases. So I said to my people, ‘slow the testing down please!'”. He also called it the “Kung-Flu” – That .. is so… fucked… up. As a person who lost her father this month to the disease, and as a person who as empathy for the families of the other 122,000 people who have died of it….  (and he has expressed ZERO empathy for the lives lost, zero) ….  believe me, having witnessed a person die of it personally – it’s no flu. My father’s entire organ system shut down going from 0 symptoms to dead in days.   Days.   To hear the President of the United States speak this way is truly unbelievable. That whole speech was truly unbelievable – That he even HELD A RALLY despite health officials in that town asking him not to, despite the ongoing pandemic, is unbelievable.

I’ll share with you some photos and funnies to cleanse that ugly palette of information up there…

This morning’s mist was so thick if I had a bar of soap with me it would have lathered up as I drove the gator to the manure pile.

My new kayak, a perception Tribute 12.o they don’t make anymore for some reason, is everything I hoped it would be.  And I got it for a bargain basement price – score!   I just can’t gain any weight – like not 2 more pounds.  really. 😳

A lovely person left this beautiful rock in my mailbox this morning with a card full of kind words.  I had posted a video some weeks back on FB of my chickens walking with me to the coop – and mentioned perhaps my Indian name might have been Walks with Chickens.. She got such a kick out of that she decided to make some art for me… I just love it and she’s so talented!

These two memes below made me laugh right out loud  and it’s been a difficult week, I sure needed it.

 

 

  I hope you are well and staying sane.  Thank you for stopping in –

Till soon –

Observations from a Person of a Certain Age

 

I am editor of a small town publication and I sometimes ask Mom to write a piece for me when I feel a topic needs mention but submissions or my own writing don’t cover it.  I have to be careful not to inflame, my job is to stay neutral, and in a small town like ours that’s monumental.  With all the racial upheaval, I felt somehow it needed to be addressed in the next issue, and yet I knew it’s nearly impossible not to insult someone.  I wasn’t looking for finger pointing or shaming or blaming, but an acknowledgement of some sort.  So… I tasked my mother with this difficulty… and I think she nailed it.

Observations From a Person of a Certain Age – by Kathleen Amoia

As a white middle class woman of a certain age, I spent my childhood and teen years within the safety of what those adjectives implied.  In the late forties and throughout the fifties, my friends and I felt simultaneously free and watched over. We had an unspoken sense that the future would treat us kindly and our comfort and success could be taken for granted. In our ignorance, we imagined most kids lived the same way.

But as our teens morphed into young adulthood, we saw another America. Our  TVs brought racial injustices and brutality into our living rooms. The childhood and teen years I had experienced were the polar opposite of what black children my age had lived. The Civil War was only yesterday, and Jim Crow was now.

By the time we were taking on the responsibilities of career, marriage and families, we were also facing multiple protest movements and assassinations. I was teaching fifth grade when an ashen and shaking principal came to my door and told me that John Kennedy had been assassinated. I was teaching third grade when Martin Luther King and Bobby Kennedy and Malcolm X were assassinated.

Our city streets were afire with the anguish of inequality and its blow back. Marchers were beaten, hosed, attacked by dogs and jailed.  Fires were set, city blocks destroyed. Black and white civil rights protesters were murdered. Through the fire and pain, President Johnson, a Southerner, a Texan, pushed Congress to act on his Civil Rights agenda and bipartisan progress was made. It was slow, sometimes ugly and painful, but it was made.

The struggle for racial justice is front and center again, sparked by the killing of George Floyd by a Minneapolis police officer. It is hard to predict just what will galvanize a mass movement, there have been similar cases very recently. But Floyd’s death triggered this one.

The marchers today are more numerous and significantly more diverse. Positive interactions with police and National Guards men and women have been encouraging. The movement is being carried into all corners of our democracy. And with some unfortunate and regrettable exceptions, the protesting has been remarkably peaceful.

The understanding that systemic racism needs to be eradicated wherever it lives is gaining wider recognition and acceptance than ever before. From my prospective as a witness to both the 60s and today, I think we are in a better place to get this done than we were then. We are starting farther down the road and therefore closer to bending that arch of history toward justice.

What I have seen throughout my life is that good people usually do good things. Most often they are our family, our friends, our neighbors, our local officials. There is no perfection here.  Mistakes will be made, fault lines will surface. “There is a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in. ” (Leonard Cohen.) But I think we can  come out of this movement a stronger and better nation. It is not guaranteed, but if we are willing to do the hard work ahead, thinking of  ourselves as “each other” and not “the other,” we can get there for ourselves and all our children.

“ It is in the shelter of each other that we live,” an Irish blessing for the times.

 

Sanctuary

Thank you for all the kind words of comfort for the loss of my father, I have some truly wonderful readers/friends here in this little space of mine.  ❤

We could talk here today about all the turmoil we are witness to out in the greater world… but I think instead I’ll share with you my walk about this morning on our farm, my sanctuary.  I find the routine of caring for the animals and the plants and the home is soothing and restorative.  Even cleaning the house and disinfecting the bathroom feels refreshing, who woulda thought?  My home has always been my sanctuary, and now even more so.

When we decided to add goats to the mix I wondered if I had lost a few marbles, looking for more chores.  But in truth, we have found much joy with our two little goat girls, Bella and Star.  They are so very friendly. When my husband comes home from work he gets out of his truck and the goats immediately call to him. It sounds as if they are saying… Daaaaaa    daaaaaaaaa.    He get’s a kick out of it, and I get a kick out of him, the big guy…..enjoying them.

 

Having our show horse, Leah, home has been a blessing too – away from the stress of horse shows, she is contented  with getting to graze more and with a larger turnout, less work.   The horse show world has opened up again, they’ve been hurting just like any other industry, but we’re not ready to wade back in to crowds,  we’re going to take our time with that.

It was 48 degrees here this morning.. in June.  Hence her blanket. Brrr…

Our mini’s Coady and Lacey like having the goat girls nextdoor, they often hang out together at the fence line.

These chores ground me while the world beyond  is so restless and *fraught*.  I am so thankful for every day spent living here enjoying and working the land and the gardens and our home,  tending the critters we take into our family.

Current situation here in my office – as you can see, my coworkers are slackers.   PS – I’ve gotten many compliments on this rug – you can find it at Rugs Direct if interested.  It’s more bold than my usually choices but I absolutely love it here in my office, as well as that faux hair footrest courtesy Homegoods.

Meanwhile, down at Stella by the Sea, the little seaside gardens are also growing, and I splurged on a new Kayak, as my Ruby is showing a lot of wear after 15 years of dependable service.  My new perception tribute  is a leftover they don’t make anymore, and I saw it sitting on the rack at a local marine shop for over a year.  Last week my masked-face self went into the store and boldly (for me) asked if they’d consider selling it to me at a discount since it had been sitting there for quite a while.   They  said yes! .. and I got it for hundreds less.  I’ll share that with you later in the week.   If you’ve never tried kayaking before but feel comfortable on the water, it’s a great way to get a full body workout and you don’t even feel like your doing any sort of tedious exercise.  Lakes, large ponds, rivers, coves, oceans  if you’re brave and comfortable and experienced…with so many options and price ranges,  there’s a boat for you if you’re so inclined.  I highly recommend it, and it doesn’t cost more than the initial boat purchase.

 

 

No. 15

 

My father passed on June 6th of complications from COVID-19.  He was No. 15 on the death list in his nursing home and there were 66 residents out of 100  who were Covid-19 positive at the time of his passing.  More than a few employees of the facility were also sick.

The facility itself had a good record initially – 2 months in lock down and no cases.  We got daily e-mail reports.  No cases.  Then, someone brought it in somehow, and it spread like wildfire despite the many precautions they had in place.

My Dad had some hobbies and habits that were  just a little reckless in his lifetime – not significantly so, but enough that I would not have believed a virus would be what took him in the end – and just 5 days after being diagnosed without symptoms.   We hadn’t been allowed to visit him and he hadn’t been allowed to leave the facility or his ward even for those two months.  He had been tested several times for the virus along with all other residents and his initial test was negative.  Just last week it came back positive – but he had no symptoms.  A few days later he had a fever and felt weak so I asked them to send him to the hospital because I wanted him monitored there in case he took a turn for the worse.  They sent him to a clinic instead because he wasn’t struggling for breath, where they built him up with fluids (he was dehydrated) and gave him tylenol and oxygen.  (his O2 was low).  We were not allowed to accompany him but we were in touch with the Dr. as he treated him.  He felt dad was not in distress and sent him home with instructions to remain on 02 and fluids and tylenol…. the only line of defense available.

They asked me repeatedly if I wanted to keep the DNR in place he specified years ago.  So I asked Dad what he wanted because he was totally lucid, after all.   He said – Keep the DNR in place, but I want hospital care if I get worse.

That whole time he did not appear to be too sick. He had no breathing difficulty and his color was good. He was comfortable.  Just the nagging fever that came and went, peaking at around 102 but coming back town with Tylenol, and some mild weakness that came and went.   We kept in touch with him via cell phone.

On June 5th I received a text in the afternoon that he was failing quickly.

What?..we just talked to him.

The text came back – you may come for a window visit.  You can’t come inside but you can go to his (first floor) window.  We’ll have his blinds up.

Are you telling me he’s dying??  we ..just… talked to him.

Yes. come.  His labs are not good.

And so we did.     What we found was my Dad, sitting in his recliner next to the big window in his room – looking like his normal self.  He was joking around, he was taking calls (I had family call to say their goodbyes without him knowing that specific reason) he stood up to adjust his clothes and he looked .. normal.    Through the outside window we had a decent visit and I honestly thought he was going to kick it, he seems pretty OK considering.   I thought the labs weren’t giving the whole picture.  I should have known the nurses of course know what they’re looking at.  I asked him one more time  – Dad you seem comfortable but would you like to go to the hospital where they have more options for care should you get worse?   No, I’m comfortable here, I want to stay.   It seemed reasonable, he wasn’t in any distress and seemed.. really ok.

At 5:30 am the next morning there was a voice mail on my phone and I knew without glancing at it that he was gone.

We’ve had a difficult relationship, my father and I.   I don’t really have the right words here.  What I know is, I tried to do right by him, and I think he tried to do right by me.. in the ways that he was capable. There was anger I don’t have reasonable words for.  From both of us.   I have struggled with that whole deal my whole life, and while I thought I was doing my best to do right by him in his last years, I am finding now that he’s truly gone that there are still… regrets.  Nagging little regrets.  Probably 15 differently little regrets that I could have done things just a little better.  The very thing I tried to avoid, but there it is.

_______________________________________

I know you’re not just resting in peace, Dad.  If there is  truly any concept of a Heaven… well, let’s face it… you’re in pergatory, where I would most likely land, myself.  So I hope you’re slapping another round of cards on the table among departed family and friends, telling a tale or two or three, throwing in a joke you’ve told a few times before.  I hope Sandy met you at the gate with tail wagging,  and I pray for calm seas and smooth sailing from here on out for you –

With love – your daughter xo

 

 

 

Goose Rock

Yesterday my  daughter-in-law to be and I paddled out to Goose Rock from our little Stella-by-the-sea, where I suspected we might find a good amount of sea glass before the summer crowds rolled in.  Goose Rock  is a very very small island made up of – just rock  – located at the mouth of our cove in Long Island Sound, part of the Atlantic.   With the wind against us it took us about a half hour to paddle out, coming back around 20 minutes as the tide was coming in at the same time.  Good timing!   One must paddle out there at low tide and when the water is calm in order for the beach part of The Rock to be exposed.

 

We scored big on Goose Rock yesterday!

…. and rewarded ourselves and the husband with burgers on the grill and these.   I’m not much of a drinker, and definitely not a beer drinker.  But a Corona with a Lime slice hit the spot after a solid paddle workout on a calm sea.

I was going to write about all the unrest you definitely have been observing yourself, but the posts have been heavy lately and I think the world needs more “sea glass adventures” in general.  Wishing you the same in whatever form that takes.

Thank you for stopping in, for leaving your thoughts, for being a decent human in this world.  It all matters.