The Train Home

After dropping our daughter (and grand-kitty!) off for her train back to the city, I thought about how she’s really returning home. When she comes “home” to visit, it’s just that - a visit. New York City is her home now. 

She has created her own way there - her routine, her new life. She has a job. She has a sweet apartment in the Lower East Side. She has a new roommate and a group of friends she met only after moving there. She has her bagel shop, her coffee spot, her grocery store, her gym, her park, and her walk to work. And, thankfully, she has her Uncles less than a mile away.

While bursting with pride for her accomplishments, it signifies a shift in our relationship. No longer is she the young daughter who looks to us for guidance on what to think; she now has her own opinions on everything from social justice to mental health to the patriarchy - and strong ones at that! 

I imagine her visits here are as confusing for her (an adult child back in her childhood bedroom) as they are for us. It has absolutely changed the dynamic of our relationship and both of us are working hard to navigate what that looks like. It might involve some complex interactions but always ends up in a good and better place. 

At the end of it all, she’s doing exactly what we raised her to do - to work hard and play hard, and to be an independent, productive, caring and kind citizen. But I hope she knows…this, too, will always be her home.

Peace on the Harbor

This is us, sneaking away after the madness of the holidays to get some quiet time on Winter Harbor in Mathews, a tiny and very quaint town on the Middle Peninsula of Virginia. Bert discovered a sweet spot of land here three years ago. We wanted to build but the entire peninsula is essentially wetlands and it is expensive and potentially damaging to do so.

The next best thing? Finding a 100+ year old farmhouse on the water that has been lovingly restored. Who needs to build when you can find a piece of beauty like this?! We found it, bid on it, and closed in only four weeks.

The call of the waterfowl, the rush of the lapping tide, the color of the setting sun… we have found our new peace at Morningside.

Cocktails with kids

\

We celebrated over the holidays with our kids - all adults now, if you consider 18 actually an adult. Bloodies and mimosas on Christmas morning, and other celebrations throughout New Years. It's a strange thing when you finally can enjoy a cocktail with your kids. You shift from the disciplinarian to the drinking buddy, which does bring some challenges and fuzzy guidelines/house rules. 

Enjoying the Christmas spirit(s)

I remember well making that transition with my parents - my Dad, in particular. Dad took his cocktails seriously. He mixed them purely (only homemade simple syrup and freshly squeezed juices) and quite strong. He said "If you don't like the taste of liquor, you shouldn't drink." Some of my most cherished mementos of Dad's are his daiquiri shaker, his cocktail recipe book, and an amazing retro traveling bar (to be highlighted in another blog another day).

The problem with enjoying a few drinks with your kids is that it portends implicit permission which is mostly okay but also a bit of a concern for those technically underage - read: college. But let's not pretend that college kids aren't imbibing. 

When you shift from locking up the liquor cabinet and not allowing them to swipe your beers from the beverage fridge to teaching them moderation, you've reached another phase of parenting. Further, it's difficult to teach moderation when you're not modeling it yourself - thank you, Covid. (This too is another blog for another day.)

At the end of the day, one doesn't need alcohol to have fun, but I like to think that enjoying a cocktail with one of my daughters or sons is, in some twisted way, an homage to my Dad.

 

A New Phase of Mother's Day

As your kids get older, Mother's Day celebrations change. Gone are the days of being awakened way too early by ragamuffins with matted hair and sweet morning breath who brandish a tray of overcooked eggs, garden flowers, handmade cards, and then snuggles in bed. They are older now and are busy with life, and college exams, and sleeping in because they were out so late for Prom.

But it's all okay. I get an early morning text from the college girl. I enjoy a coffee date with my eldest. And I hear (eventually) from the other two who wake up after noon, asking for food and not even realizing that their Mom is not at home.

In lieu of tacky jewelry and homemade gifts, I receive a lovely bag of goodies from Stella's market. They know their Mama... a hydrangea, a bottle of wine, a gorgeous tea towel, and a sweet treat, along with this card that makes me LOL.

I revel in who they are now. Two fiercely independent young women - one of whom is an entrepreneur and building her own business and another who just snagged her dream job in her dream city. And two ridiculously sweet, smart, empathetic and sloppy young men who respect their Mom and indulge her hugs and kisses when they'd really rather not.

It's a new phase of Mother's Day-ness. Will be interesting to see how things change in the coming years as more of the chicks leave the nest. XOX to my life's greatest accomplishments.

Dreaming of Daddy

I was in a happy place. Somewhere warm and balmy. With friends. It was a party. Maybe by a pool? A warm summer night. The stars were so clear. There was music and dancing and carousing. There were lights and lots of people. I was wearing a swimsuit with a swingy cover-up, flip-flops, carrying a beer and feeling so happy.

We were all walking along, somewhere, no idea where, and I turned and looked over my right shoulder. There he was. My Dad. Wearing his ubiquitous khakis, white walking shoes, "that stripey shirt," and his USS Guam hat. I was a bit surprised to see him - you know, since he's passed and all. He simply said "It feels so good to walk." Even in my dream, my heart was soaring. I felt such joy because Daddy hadn't walked on his own in probably 10 years.

He plodded along right next to me. I grabbed his hand. It was warm and as strong as ever. I always adored his hands. I traced his veins with my finger. I got the feeling that we had a longer conversation but all I recall him saying is "I don't know what I'd do without you, Beth. I couldn't live without you." To which I responded "I love you so, so much Daddy," and wrapped my arm through his and rested my head on his shoulder.

We walked along silently for a bit. He smelled good. He smelled like "healthy Dad." He felt good. He felt like "strong Dad." I felt peace. And then I woke up and thought, WTF was that?! I laughed a bit and then went back to sleep.

I've often heard of signs and dreams people receive/have after loved ones have passed. I have wondered if they are actual signs from beyond, or if we "encourage" ourselves to find or force them for our own comfort. Or to answer unanswered questions. Or tend to whatever we need. Or just pure and simple coincidence. At the end of the day, I guess it doesn't really matter. Cuz I got to walk and talk with my Daddy last night, on a warm summer night, hold his hand, and look at the stars. <3

I was mean to Mama today

I was mean to Mama today. I didn’t mean to be. I didn’t want to be. I guess we all have our limits but that doesn’t make me feel any better.

Anyone who knows my Mama knows she is the sweetest, kindest, most gentle soul. Snapping at her tonight was the equivalent kicking a puppy...hurting someone who can’t help it and depends on you to take care of them.

The simplest of tasks confound her now. Any change completely stresses her out. Such was the case when her flip phone (circa 2007) finally pooped out. We went on Saturday to purchase a new one. Turns out the store had only one flip style phone available. As luck would have it, it was IDENTICAL to the one that just died. The customer service rep was awesome and transferred all the info, contacts, etc. Truly, she only calls three people - me and my two brothers; still, she is having a very hard time using it.

I have received no fewer than thirty phone calls in 5 days telling me she cannot use it. Yet, she's calling me from her phone...to tell me she cannot use it. Sigh.

She begs me to come to Winchester to help her with it. I tell her I was just there and cannot come for awhile. I tell her it's the same phone. She says it's not. I say, no...it really is. She insists it's not. So I very curtly say "OK." I cannot speak anymore. She knows I'm upset. She apologizes and very quickly ends the call, and I hang my head and cry.

I wish I could take it back but I'll just try to learn from it. Life is difficult sometimes. Loving someone with Alzheimer's is hard. I'll try to forgive myself and move on, and be a better daughter tomorrow. 

While she likely won't even remember the conversation, I certainly will. 

Parental Haiku

Her mind is fleeting

His body has betrayed him

I miss my parents

23/365 - PATRIOT

I had always been one to stay within my comfort zone - afraid to step into unchartered territories, for fear of failure. That all changed a few years ago when I ran for (and won) an elected office. It is unlike anything I ever thought I'd do, and has paid off massive dividends for my school division and for my personal growth.

The single most intimidating thing for me was engaging with my elected officials to advocate for public education. After settling into my new role, I realized "Well, they're just regular folk like me" (for the most part).

I put myself out there and advocated hard at both the state and federal levels, and have gained great insight into the legislative process. Generally, it's a "banging your head against a brick wall" process, but there are also pockets of true reverence and positive intent. Now, I actually enjoy my time at the Capitol. I'm educated on the issues. I advocate passionately. And I engage in meaningful conversations. Today was top-notch!

You know you're doing something right when THEY ask YOU for a favor...

22/365 - REDEYE

On the surface, a redeye flight sounds like a great idea. It's the ultimate, frugal-loving, multi-tasking opportunity. You get to extend your trip, you don't have to pay for a hotel, you get to sleep as you travel, etc.

The problem is this...I can't sleep on a plane. I have to be horizontal to sleep well. The two inch reclining chair is bullshit. I can do a little neck-bobbing nappy, but don't get any substantial sleep.

Perhaps I was over ambitious in planning to squeeze out extra time on my adventure weekend. I knew that the redeye would put me in RVA just in time to attend an important education conference.

It's all good - change clothes in the bathroom, put on a little face powder, and poof - I'm a public education advocate.

This is my "don't mess with me" face. Redeye or not...

21/365 - INSPIRATION

As my weekend draws to a close, I look back on all that I've done and learned. A highlight of the trip was the Inspiration Trail hike in the rain with a group of pretty special people. The hike in was very chatty. The hike out was completely silent. Loved that. Quiet. With my thoughts.

I continue to be amazed at the different topography. Soaring red rocks. Deep canyons. It pleased me to no end that I was able to experience it, even if I had to do so in this attractive blue poncho.

Besides the obvious camaraderie and fun I have on these adventures, the biggest payoff is taking on new challenges and completely blowing them away.

The smile on my face says it all...

20/365 - LABYRINTH

A labyrinth is defined as "a complicated irregular network of passages or paths in which it is difficult to find one's way; a maze." I take that to mean the word, and not the structure.

An actual labyrinth has one entrance - one way in and one way out. It could be construed as a metaphor for life - that you have only one path to follow.  Except I don't believe that to be true. There are many paths one can take in life, but perhaps finding success on that one path means you need to stay the course.

The act of walking through the labyrinth is peaceful. I did so silently, alone with my thoughts. A walking meditation. As the circles shortened and grew tighter, I was more and more excited to reach the center. Once I did, I enjoyed this view, took it all in, and then began my retreat. By the time I exited the labyrinth, I had answers and energy.

Who would've guessed walking in a circle could be so productive...

19/365 - VIEWS

The drive from the airport to my destination is stunning in a way that I find hard to articulate. The soaring rocks and gorge are fascinating to me. We simply don't have mountains like this in Virginia.

Thankfully, my friend is driving because my face is glued to the window and my mouth agape, like a little kid. The shock of this view is overshadowed only by seeing two people hanging off the face of a rock sheer, ostensibly for fun.

Our resort is surrounded by vivid red rock cliffs and canyons, the likes of which I've never seen. As I relax in the hammock on a sunny day, I'm simply in awe.

 

18/365 - SHINY

Las Vegas doesn't waste any time...slots and bells and lights, all right there in the airport. This is a town that takes its fun very seriously.

The spectacle of the strip is outshined only by its patrons, including the lovely lady in front of me with a black thong that peeks through her too thin, painted on, red leggings. To her credit, she has a nice figure and her leggings match the red hoodie and coordinating KI$$ ME blingy tank top that fails to cover her assets. Somehow, it works for her.

I already "did Vegas" last year, in fine style, including a J Lo concert and falling out of a plane. So I will just continue on my trip to Utah and know I'm not missing a bit of Vegas' shiny goodness.

17/365 - MINUTE

After a week of staving off a cold with homeopathy and wishful thinking, I finally gave up and went to the doctor. Said cold developed into a painful sinus infection, but I really don't have time for this as I'm preparing to leave tomorrow for a long flight and adventure weekend. The answer? Minute Clinic.

I love the Minute Clinic for these situations - meaning, those where you've already diagnosed yourself and just need validation by someone who can write an Rx for you. As someone who suffers from sinus infections pretty much annually, I know the tell tale signs. I won't bore (disgust) you with the details.

I got what I needed and will head out tomorrow with all the right tools. And it only took a minute...

16/365 - NO

What does it mean?

What do I do?

Discuss... 

15/365 - COMMITTEE

Lately, our trees have been filled with vultures. A LOT of them...like, 30 or so. They hover and glide and fill our trees which casts an even darker shadow on these cold winter days. I snapped this picture on a recent run where they appeared to be following me through the neighborhood.

A group of vultures in flight is called a kettle; a group of them resting in trees or on the ground is called a committee; and a group of vultures feeding is called a wake.

They drive Sammy absolutely nuts. He runs back and forth across the yard as they soar very loudly around the pond and settle back into our trees. They fly loudly. You can hear the air they cut with their massive wings.

I've read that vultures can actually be positive spirit guides that show you how to use energy powerfully and efficiently. I'm not sure I'd want one as my spirit guide, but do agree they are powerful and efficient. If you've ever seen them pick a carcass clean, you'd agree.

Ultimately, when you're on a run and sucking air, to see a "committee" of vultures following you makes one quite uneasy.

14/365 - ROAR

I am woman, hear me roar...or some such nonsense like that. Growing up in the ERA era, I've always been uber sensitive to being an "independent woman." Watching my Mom in the traditional role of a mother and housewife, I wanted more. I wanted a voice. I wanted to not have to rely on a man.

Of course, hindsight shows me that Mom and Dad had a partnership and hers wasn't a subservient role. Her taking care of the home and the kids allowed Dad to fully commit to a very demanding career that provided for his family. But I digress.

This statement of equal rights, independence, and feminism is an elaborate and over-complicated way of saying this...I FIXED MY DISHWASHER! It would have been so easy to call a repairman, or to wait for Bert to fix it after his business trip, but I didn't. I researched it and I fixed the damn thing. It even involved turning off the breaker, so you know it was serious!

Bottom line is this, I don't need to rely on a man, but I'm sure glad I've got him <3

13/365 - FORTITUDE

What keeps you going? What drives you when things get hard? And why are the "hard" things easier to commit to than the easy things? These were just some of the things running through my mind today during my run...along with "this is stupid" "why am I doing this?" "that a-hole just ran past me like I'm a turtle" etc.

It seems I can commit to an audacious (for me) goal of training for a half marathon better than I can commit to putting away my laundry. I don't if it's the drudgery of smaller goals or what, but I guess I shouldn't question it if it propels me to shoot for and achieve greater things.

The last two years have been all about putting aside my negative talk and doing big things. Ridiculous things. And I kinda love it <3

12/365 - DOCUMENTATION

One of the greatest things about technology is the ability to capture anything instantaneously - both the innocuous and momentous. Then, there are those instances where you snap a quick picture and look back on it with a new lens. What seemed innocuous is actually momentous.

When your husband is teaching your 15-year old the fine art of shaving, you (intellectually) recognize that it's a milestone. But when you're running around the house, picking up dirty laundry, trying to make sure dinner doesn't burn, letting the dog outside, answering the ringing phone, etc., you can miss it. 

My phone is an appendage. I literally have it with me at all times. Thankfully, I was able to pull my phone out of my back pocket with one hand as I balanced the laundry basket on my hip with the other to snap this pic as I raced down the stairs. 

At the time, it was no big deal. But a year later, Bert has taught son #2 the same routine and I missed it. That makes this picture all the more precious.

Must. Stop. Blinking.

 

11/365 - ACHOO

I got nothin' today, folks. Sorry.