Seasons for All

Anniversaries, Hard Ones

It was 26 years ago yesterday when that my father passed away suddenly and unexpectedly.  I had just given birth to my first born and was in "new mommy heaven" when this devastating loss occurred.  I had always dreaded losing my father.  His career involved traveling the world and he was away much of the time when I was growing up.  My mother did a phenomenal job raising three daughters and managing all aspects of our household.  When my dad returned home following a three-month trip, we celebrated his homecoming with almost as much exhilaration as we celebrated Christmas.

Since my father was away so much of the time, I never felt as though I spent enough time with him.  Thus the fear of losing him so soon.  Among the vivid memories I have of singular moments with him, two come to mind right now.

When I was about 7 years old, I recall being at a park with my parents and my two sisters.  I have no memory of where we were but that was the only time we visited that park.  In the middle of a huge green lawn was a stone well.  I remember my father hoisting me up to sit on the side of the well so I could peer down into its seemingly bottomless pit.  My father had his arms around me, and I said to him, "Don't drop me, Daddy."  And he said, "Honey, I wouldn't let go of you in a million years." 

The second memory I'm recalling right now took place a few years later.  He had been home for three weeks and it was time for him to make another trip out into the world.  His flight was a red eye, so he was going to leave our house shortly after my sisters and I had gone to bed.  He came to my room to say good-bye to me and I was still awake.  As he leaned over my bed to kiss me good-bye, I wrapped my arms around his neck to hug him.  As he backed away, I tightened my hug and said, "I don't want you to go, Daddy."  He must have felt horrible as he told me he had to leave. 

My son, who was only 3 months old when my father died, was a godsend to my mother, my sisters, and me as we mourned the loss of my father.  My son has many of my father's personality traits: home body, gentle demeanor, and great sense of humor.  And my younger son, who is now 23, looks a great deal like my father.  I so wish my sons had known my father.  And I would have so loved to watch my father enjoy being a grandfather. 

Although there is great sadness in loss, there is also great joy in the love and memories we treasure forever.

  

A Monthly Carnival ~ What's On Your Nightstand?

Summer is a great time to get lost in a novel, and it's always interesting to hear what others are reading, too.  Some stick to a single genre, and others like a wide variety of stories.  While reading Jo-Lynne's blog this morning, I learned that Jennifer, Managing Editor over at 5 Minutes for Books, is hosting a carnival:  What's on your nightstand?  What a great way to learn about great or not-so-great reads! 

My sisters, niece, and I were at our favorite book store yesterday at North Lake Tahoe.  I was remarking to them how much I love to shop for books.  I gauge my interest on the title, cover design, author's credits, etc.  And I have a confession:  I love to open a paperback novel and just smell the pages of the fresh newsprint.  To that end, my sister once gave me a joke gift.  She shredded a page of an old, old book and dropped several remnants into an inexpensive blue perfume bottle, and then she presented me with "Eau de Paperback." Clever, no?  That was well over a dozen years ago, and that perfume bottle still sits amidst other lovely, expensive parfums on my vanity!

Interestingly, I love to shop for books more than I love reading them.  While I certainly am capable of burying my nose in a book until it is done, I find that what I am doing at this very second, i.e., spending time on my computer, is preferred.  In any case, I am enjoying a book right now, one that I am taking my time to read. 

I'm reading Everyone Worth Knowing by Lauren Weisberger, who also wrote The Devil Wears Prada.  Here's the book's description on amazon.com:

"Bette Robinson is a twentysomething Emory graduate who shunned her parents' hippie ideals in favor of a high-paying yet excruciatingly boring job at a prestigious investment bank. One day, after a particularly condescending exchange with her boss (who sends her daily inspirational e-mails), Bette walks out on her job in a huff. After a few weeks of sleeping late, watching Dr. Phil and entertaining her dog Millington, Bette's uncle scores her a job at an up-and-coming public relations firm, where her entire job seems to revolve around staying out late partying and providing fodder for clandestine gossip columns. What follows is one episode after another of Bette climbing up the social ladder at the expense of her friends, family, and the one guy who actually seems worth pursuing."

The main character is certainly part of a younger jet set than I, but the pace of that lifestyle is both exhilerating and exhausting!  I think you'd like this one.

I'm heading home from Lake Tahoe today, and I'll be back to work tomorrow.  I've so enjoyed my trips to Virginia and to the Sierras!

And on we go.

  

Summers at the Lake

I'm at Lake Tahoe with my family for a few days.  We've spent time on North Shore almost every summer since 1982.  I've always appreciated nature's invitation to slow down the pace from our normal routines and enjoy the majestic surroundings of the Sierras.  Here, we're encouraged by Mother Nature to relax and just enjoy each other's company.

When my boys were in grade school, we would sometimes take a full day to drive all the way around the lake, stopping for lunch and to saunter through specialty shops.  Most times they came home with a souvenir.  On other days, they built sand castles at the beach, swam in the pool, and played softball on the huge grassy field outside the cabin.  A very good friend moved from our neighborhood to South Lake Tahoe, so they were able to spend time with him, too. 

Each year seems to hold a special memory in the making.  My family is growing; my grandchildren are now part of this summer tradition.  So when it comes to making memories, this year will be no exception.

And on we go. 

   

Credit: Image from Art.com

Home Again, But Not For Long

I'm home from my business trip to Virginia.  The conference was held at Airlie Center in Warrenton.  What a stunning location!  Below, courtesy of art.com, is the view from the conference room in which I spent much time over the past 11 days.  There were two swans swimming in the lake and a couple dozen geese swimming and skimming in flight the lake every morning.  Daily walks around the campus facilitated our spying creatures in their natural habitats: rabbits, deer, turtles, and species of butterflies and dragonflies not found in Northern California.  But the most magical view was seeing dozens of fireflies dancing over the meadows every evening.  This is Mother Nature at her best. 

I am heading to the Sierras tomorrow with my family.  For today, I am so enjoying being home again. 

And on we go. 

   

A Business Trip ~ What Luck!

I'm in Virginia on business and am enjoying this stunning new environment.  The weather has been great, but certainly more humid than I'm used to experiencing in California.  The history in this part of the United States is just amazing.  I'm hoping to be able to get some sight-seeing in before I head home on Thursday!   

Scrapbooking Songs, or What Strep Throat Really Means

A few months before my older son turned 21, I decided to make for him a scrapbook that would include numerous photographs of important people and memorable times in his life.  I had not had a chance to organize well all my photographs, so this was a perfect opportunity to pull them all out of their boxes, which is just what I did.  I took 3 very large boxes full of photographs out of a hall closet and began sorting through them one by one.  It took me several hours, and the next day I came down with strep throat. 

After recovering from my sudden and short-lived illness, I resumed the scrapbook project.  Rather than sequencing the photographs chronologically based on my son's age, I decided to bundle them by theme.  So, all the Halloween photos were together, all the Christmas photos were together, all the school years photos were together, etc.

As the scrapbook evolved, I soon discovered there were over 400 photographs I wanted to include.  I also soon discovered that not all photographs would fit into one volume, so I created two.  I created title pages for each section of the scrapbook, and at the bottom of each title page I included a verse from a favorite and relevant song. 

Watching PeeWee's Playhouse, for example, was a regular activity on weekend mornings when my boys were growing up.  So it was fitting to include a verse from this television show's theme song on the title page for the cluster of photographs of both my sons together.  (If you clickity-click to PeeWee's website, click on "Enter" or "Characters" to hear the entire theme song.)

With the volumes nearly completed, I decided to choose two songs that were both favorites and symbolic to begin and end the scrapbook.  And instead of including just one verse of those two songs, I printed the entire lyric onto one page and placed one at the beginning of the first volume and the other at the end of the second volume.  The scrapbook opened with the lyrics to "Forever Young," made popular by Rod Stewart in 1988.  And the scrapbook closed with lyrics to "Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)" recorded by Green Day in late 1997.

I had a great time creating that scrapbook.  My son appreciated the stroll through his life, and family members enjoyed a trip down Memory Lane.  Although my younger son is nearly 23 years old, I've not yet made a scrapbook for him. He's not yet left he nest, so that change may be the catalyst for my recreating on pages his life.

As for that case of strep throat, I think that my son turning 21 years of age and permanently leaving my home was more of an emotional milestone for me than it was for him.  So much so that somewhere deep inside I did not want to say goodbye to him, or to his childhood.  What better way to block one's ability to speak than a case of strep throat?

And on we go. 

When My Sons Laugh

There are few things that bring me greater pride than the relationship my sons have with each other.  These two 20-somethings, who are 3 years and 3 months apart in age, could not be more different in personality, style, and demeanor.  They were different as night and day as babies, as little boys, and as teens.  While some of their current interests overlap, there are many differences between the two when it comes to their choosing how they spend their time. 

My older son likes to stay home.  That was true even before he was married with children.  My younger son is always looking to connect with friends, out and about.  But they both value family more than anything else in the world, a common attribute for which I take some credit and for which I feel very lucky.

I've always believed that my older son, who now has a family of his own, is an old soul.  He can see the world from afar and has a clear perspective of nearly everything he experiences.  He is so skilled at looking at the overall picture, that one of his grade school soccer coaches observed him coaching his teammates from the field.  But he wasn't moving as he offered directions to his teammates.  Rather, he would stand in the center of the field with his hands on his hips.  He saw clearing the strategy his team needed to score a goal, and he was directing his teammates accordingly.  After several minutes of this behavior, his coach got his attention by shouting out is last name.  Then he said quite loudly and clearly, "Get IN the game!"  That's my older son.  Sees the strategy and absorbs the detail; knows what needs to be done to reach the goal.  He is a home body who has kept friends he made beginning in the 3rd grade.  His humor is wise, dry, and always perfectly timed.     

My younger son is a younger soul.  He has always lived in the moment, filtering through a personal lens everything that happens to him and to others.  He is always on the go, is charismatic, and has an endearing quality about him that has attracted males and females of all ages to him all his life.  He makes friends easily and is a loyal friend to those he trusts.  His humor is physical in nature, and he has an uncanny ability to impersonate the rich and famous.  He began to perfect this talent when he was about 9 years old.  He could sound exactly like Elvis, Forrest Gump, Ace Ventura, and others.  What was fascinating though was that when I asked him to have Elvis impersonate Forrest Gump, he did it.  And he could then reverse it, Forrest Gump impersonating Elvis.  Perfection.  He has a keen ear for dialects and accents and, without preparation, he can instantly sound as though he is from somewhere other than Northern California.  A true talent.

Now, put these two together and it is quite the combination!  A few years ago, there was an opportunity for the 3 of us to converge from different corners of the community to lunch together.  Each of my sons would begin with their own style of humor, and in less than 3 minutes of our being together, I was laughing hysterically, complete with stomach muscles aching and tears rolling down my face. 

But even when I am not with them, my sons love to spend time with each other.  My younger son frequently heads to his brother's house on the weekends to spend time with his brother, sister-in-law, niece, and nephew.  When my sons are together, there is a synergy that is the result of pure chemistry.  That synergy was certainly combustible when they were growing up!, but there is a balance now that is constant.

The moments I love best are when my younger son is "performing" in some way, whether it is an impersonation or just teasing someone, and my older son is genuinely amused.  As my younger son experiences personally and makes the best of any given moment for the people who are in that moment with him, my older son is naturally detached and is observing all that is happening around him.  And, from afar while giggling nearly uncontrollably, my older son is in awe of his younger brother. 

When my sons are engaged and attentive to one another, it speaks volumes to the love, respect, and admiration they have for each other.  As their mother, I can think of no greater accomplishment I have achieved than fostering a relationship between siblings that will last a lifetime.  I just love it when my sons laugh. 

And on we go.