Opening Night

"Right, well, we may not be Ringling Brothers, BUT we have always been quality .... right??" The group of painted and costumed clowns sat looking up at the spectacle. Their exaggerated shoes patting together in an agitated manner.

O.K., the boy arrived 10 months ago with no skills, no presence, nothing except a wish to be a flyer ... a trapeze artist ... he almost got a nose bleed every time he went up. BUT, there he was ... opening night.

The wigged, red nosed clowns were intent. "Can you believe THAT'S his costume?" We'll never live this down!!!" "Wilbur, he's in white tights!" " You better look at yourself .... you've taken the Velveteen Rabbit to an all NEW LOW .... really !!!"

Bathing Suit and the Preacher

Mother was ..... apparently, I have no idea who or what she really was. Regal, proper, willful, stubborn, exacting, with moments of pure insanity, Southern lady about covers the description. At the University of Alabama, her intentions of being a concert pianist ended with the sudden death of her father; then settled on Primary Education. She met and married daddy in 1938 .... these are the facts.

Funny how you can live everyday for 18/19 years with these people and, actually, not know them except for little snippets of a glance. There was this one time when our pious minister dropped in, unexpectedly, for a visit.

She loved to dig in the garden!!! That hot summer afternoon, to improve her tan while planting daylilies on a bare bank below the newly built house, she was wearing a 2 piece bathing suit..... very risque for the early 50's. Apparently, she had heard his car arrive cause she was clawing her way up the bank, like a cat, on her stomach. Looking up, she spied me in the windows on the way to answer the insistent knocking at the door. With desperation on her sweaty, dirt streaked face, lip reading and arm waving were emphatic ... "Don't let him in!!" Irrepressible laughter bubbled up, bursting out at that sight. It still brings a smile. My prim and proper mother was a total mess and her dignity had definitely slipped. Oh, my word, how was she going to avoid being caught. More determined knocking .... he was a tall, severe man with no sense of humor and not to be admitted! The last sight of mother, she was slipping around the corner of the house.

Opening the front door gave full view of the stairway and hall, mother's only route to her bedroom. I could hear her in the downstairs bathroom washing up, but .... trapped. "Hello Mr. Kennedy, please come in!" Well, he had to move out of the door and that hall. Ushering him into the living room, he stood at the windows commenting on all the gardening opportunities. We stood nodding our heads in agreement with the vision of mother's recent mad scramble up that bank. "Yes, sir, we have a lot of grass to cut." Really don't believe he heard her bare foot fall on the stairs or the click of the bedroom door. Excusing myself,"I'll just find mother .... be right back." Never knew anyone could get dressed that quickly and actually appear cool and calm. She swirled into the room like Loretta Young making an entrance on screen [a very elegant actress of earlier times].

When the insanity was over and Mr. Kennedy had departed, she looked around erupting into laughter and trying to talk at the same time. "I .... thought.... I .... was having .... a heart attack!!!!" "You let him .... in the house." "Are you .... crazy?" With tears streaming down our faces we had daddy near convulsions at dinner as we retold the events of that summer afternoon.

Recently, heard many moments and times shared with her friends that opened a door into a life unknown to me. Could sink a putt from anywhere. Was great to have as a Bridge partner as she generally won. As a couple, they were the life of the party. Isn't that ashame to have missed seeing that part of our parents .... maybe you didn't.

"I Remember Mama" was a t.v. show of the 70's or so and has been strolling through my thoughts the past few days. She slipped away peacefully last month 6 days shy of 98. You see, for the last 21 years, she has been .... figuratively .... patting her foot, sitting on go, just waiting to join daddy. She's gotten her wish and they're probably off together playing golf, again.

Singing in the Rain

There they were, Gene Kelly, Debbie Reynolds and Donald O'Connor. Their yellow slickers filling the screen .... "Singing in the rain, just singing in the rain, what a wonderful feeling" ..... the darken theater enhanced the mood .... "I'm happy again. The suns up above" ..... eyelids slid closed, thoughts drift to him. Was he right? How could he possibly know? He's not that attuned; o.k., smart. Oh, lawrd .... the pain ... THE PAIN! Funny when you're being wheeled on a gurney through halls of lights and doors open and close ... alone ... then all those people in white ... where is he? ... counting backwards ... Mother always said, "April Showers bring May flowers" .... baby shower, April 12th; born May 15th, Rose.

Ordinary Things

Genetics, DNA, ancestors .... stubborn, willful, submissive, happy, orderly. Why on earth these thought flood the mind while doing ordinary things is a conundrum. All the same, those nightly rituals: check the doors, turn out the lights, slip into the gown, tie the hair back, cleanse the face. Every night those clear eyes survey the years of effect from sun baked fishing and winter frozen hunting but at this moment an unexpected awareness. Picking up the tooth brush, suddenly there appeared in the middle of her line riddled cheek a highway sign ... EXIT 181, 1/2 mile ahead with an arrow ponting toward her mouth. She broke into a wide smile thinking "I earned every one" and began brushing.

I'm no chicken ....

Intensely flashing light followed by that erupting crash of thunder and the hard smacking of hail, sleep was over. What's the time ... what's the time?? Darkness, again, wrapped the house as the deluge pounded. Are you kidding me? The jump is today .... do we do this in the rain? Surely not. Coffee, need coffee by the pot or sleep could possibly return. Well, o.k., up, dressed wondering "can they get a plane off the ground in this; AND, oh lord, that water hitting you like tiny bullets". Breath, just breath, the phone will ring any minute with a cancellation/postponement of the event.

By 8:30 a.m., meet, greet and prep complete, we piled into the plane. Spiraling upwards through clouds or maybe it was fog, we reached altitude. Unable to recall committing to such a CRAZY idea but I'm no chicken, forget standing in the door ... there was no door just falling, falling. Fog swirled in a vortex ...... "Mrs. Drake .... Mrs. Drake wake up"! "She's coming around Doctor". Opening her eyes, the Doctor's face took shape. "Your colonoscopy went perfectly ..... we removed 20 polops .... everything is fine."

Ebb and Flow .... Wax and Wan ... Life and

Ah, Pisces the water sign, have appreciated the ebb and flow of the tide, force of the moon and the need to be flexible. Amazed by the exactness, predictability, let alone the affect on our lives, March 2011 has proven to be emotional, both elation and sadness simultaneously.


Timing is everything; it's absolutely true! The flight booked and real estate agent scheduled during the last full week of New Orleans Mardi Gras. A son is being transferred to Louisiana and needs to find a house; so, might as well have some fun while we're there. He had explained there was a 10 year plan regarding marriage even though wasn't certain of the location in that span of time. An afternoon phone call cleared up the question. The Bachelor/Bride "party/shower" was presently being held at the Abita Brewery. O.K. that fits. Saturday, the 5th, during one of the Black Tie extravaganza in the company of thousands, vows were exchanged, papers signed and beads thrown. Would have loved being there but life intervened with a different trip.


She was 97, my mother. She had lived at home alone since 1990 when Dad died. The 90th birthday party seemed to have heralded the loosing of most of her friends. A few years later a compression fracture in her back required home assistance. She managed to carve their duties from 24/7 to afternoons. A strong willed, stubborn, willful, world class procrastinator was loved anyway. Sometimes, it felt as though Scarlett O'Hara had moved in; particularly when we heard "I'll think about that tomorrow". Wanted to inquire where's the "fiddle dee dee" .... discretion is the better part of valor and impulsive daughters. The other trait that maddened was her need not to tell anything "important" .... i.e. do not worry her[me]. Once inquired if she had raised a mushroom for a daughter. She felt the analogy was imprudent [her word]. Our frequent conversations became nothing more than weather reports and a very brief "I'm fine". However, this call was greeted differently. 300 miles later found her having been settled into Hospice. She peacefully slipped away on the 10th [my birthday] only 6 days shy of her 98th.


They wed on a new moon in the mysterious, sensitive, creative sign of Pisces on a median high tide. Well, that could lead one to consider the obvious new step in life with the creation of a united life on an incoming swell of excitement and change. Cornball, maybe ..... it's actually what we choose to see. On a waxing crescent in the sign of a patient, tranquil Taurus and a receding tide, she slipped away to meet Dad for a long awaited tee off time. Wow, this doesn't need a clairvoyant. Reality is, it doesn't matter the reading.... life, as with the moon and tide, comes and goes, is good and bad at any given moment. Love and loss bound up together eternally ... not just mine but yours as well.

Come join me in the garden, let's talk of Spring and possibly planting by the signs. How about some Moroccan Orange Spiced tea .............

The Memory of Lost Moments

Entering through the kitchen door, the intro music of Out of Africa spilled out into the yard. You can actually feel your heart squeeze, your lungs empty with a whoosh and the emotion of devastating loss rise up into your throat. Then, the uncontrolled rush of tears and memories swirl about as ghosts without form or substance. This had been our movie, our music and it was Africa..... the only thing he had ever wanted was an African Safari, and we never saw our way clear to go. This is my guilt; my shame; my wish to have said yes. So, with his sudden demise 11 years ago, this haunts me. For years could neither watch the movie or listen to the score.

How many times do we say, "Oh, well, there's always tomorrow"..... no, not always and we have left so much undone or not said. These are not original thoughts but they are reality. This music became very significant to us. We had been invited to be trainers at Philmont Training Center in New Mexico for several years; and as anyone who has been there, loved all of the pieces and parts of the ranch. When you entered the property from the side that brings you in from up behind the barns, the view was, to us, reminiscent of some of the movie's scenes of Africa's savannahs and Gret Riff. For atmosphere and to tease the moment, we would stop while the tape played that signature sound..... very special to us. It will ever be linked in my heart with that one man that brought fun, romance, adventure; he made my world complete. Well, it's true.

The scene when Dennis takes Karen for her plane ride is gripped with the sharing of life's special moments we often pass off as "oh, wow, that was beautiful", when the reality is that moment will never come again. We should wrap our arms around that person and hold on for dear life. How often does it slid away un-noticed? Just to feel the touch of his hand on mine; the arm that draws you near in the middle of the night; that funny look "I want you" while standing in a crowd .... there are not words to lessen the knowing you will never experience that again.


So, the movie ends with his sudden death .... odd, that hollow empty feeling. The hole that can't be filled again. Shopping for things doesn't help, the emptiness remains. Have seen where some immediately find another person for fear of being alone. Have watched others commit to the next relationship but hold back a portion of themselves so as to insure the whole self isn't hurt again. Granted walking in others shoes might change this point of view...but I doubt it. Shouldn't it be an all or nothing situation. Right, it's clear everyone doesn't/hasn't had a good experience in the marriage department; all the same, why would we partially commit. That's like trying two horses at one time .... a little awkward trying to keep your balance and not very satisfying. Love, if you ever come into my life again, it will be all or nothing. As the movie score plays for the credits, that knot swells in the throat and tears blur the vision for remembered and lost moments. Tomorrow may not arrive ... today is now ... aging makes one realize, life and love are fragile and precious!