Solarized Sunday
The Firehouse crew visited Sunday afternoon. That is the soccer team. Chap has wanted to get together for carne asada for a time now. He and Jinaro prepped it, grilled it, served it. When I brought out the rice and beans and quacamole Chap expressed how sorry he felt for me… at his house they have real food and lots of it. He is right. They threw down the goods. Oscar and Chase (who was in town) made viewfinders for the eclipse. Pretty darn flashy. Benji kept looking with one squinted eye telling us all about it. The boys played hoopz, pool, watched Chelsea win the Champions League, made s’mores. Totally solarized satisfaction.
with: Chap, Fernando, Kohner, Land, Chris, Jinaro, Alan, Jesse, Andrew, Brian, Benji, Chase, Oscar
Three Thoughts on being a Mother… but first:
On Mother’s Day after breakfast and the duties of the day were done we packed a lunch and water and headed up Logan Canyon to hike the Crimson Trail. Seventeen years in Cache Valley and there is still much exploring and adventuring to be had in our own back yard. It was spectacular. The view, the sun, the company, the mood. It is approximately a five-mile loop that gains close to 2,000 feet. Two miles of the trail is along a limestone deposit called the China Wall. I was surprised at the sheer size of the cliffs. When trying to fall asleep the queasiness of heights was my lullaby. I had to picture the red-tailed hawk soaring off the edge, and the sparkle of the river-water along the bottoms to calm my mind.
Now back to my thoughts:
1. I can’t describe what being a mother is. All I know for sure is I understand the metaphor “heart of my heart.”
2. I’m uncomfortable when people say that motherhood is the “best job” or the “hardest job.” I’ve never considered it a job. It is something I am.
3. I really, really dislike not having my mother here anymore.
P.S. Chase sent this message through the internets.
I’ve been participating in a writing workshop and devoting my time and words to the daily activities and so I’ve been absent on do-ology. But today I felt compelled to check in and share this poem. Watch. Say Yes.
Say Yes by Andrea Gibson
when two violins are placed in a room
if a chord on one violin is struck
the other violin will sound the note
if this is your definition of hope
this is for you
the ones who know how powerful we are
who know we can sound the music in the people around us
simply by playing our own strings
for the ones who sing life into broken wings
open their chests and offer their breath
as wind on a still day when nothing seems to be moving
spare those intent on proving god is dead
for you when your fingers are red
from clutching your heart
so it will beat faster
for the time you mastered the art of giving yourself for the sake of someone else
for the ones who have felt what it is to crush the lies
and lift truth so high the steeples bow to the sky
this is for you
this is also for the people who wake early to watch flowers bloom
who notice the moon at noon on a day when the world
has slapped them in the face with its lack of light
for the mothers who feed their children first
and thirst for nothing when they’re full
this is for women
and for the men who taught me only women bleed with the moon
but there are men who cry when women bleed
men who bleed from women’s wounds
and this is for that moon
on the nights she seems hung by a noose
for the people who cut her loose
and for the people still waiting for the rope to burn
about to learn they have scissors in their hands
this is for the man who showed me
the hardest thing about having nothing
is having nothing to give
who said the only reason to live is to give ourselves away
so this is for the day we’ll quit or jobs and work for something real
we’ll feel for sunshine in the shadows
look for sunrays in the shade
this is for the people who rattle the cage that slave wage built
and for the ones who didn’t know the filth until tonight
but right now are beginning songs that sound something like
people turning their porch lights on and calling the homeless back home
this is for all the shit we own
and for the day we’ll learn how much we have
when we learn to give that shit away
this is for doubt becoming faith
for falling from grace and climbing back up
for trading our silver platters for something that matters
like the gold that shines from our hands when we hold each other
this is for the grandmother who walked a thousand miles on broken glass
to find that single patch of grass to plant a family tree
where the fruit would grow to laugh
for the ones who know the math of war
has always been subtraction
so they live like an action of addition
for you when you give like every star is wishing on you
and for the people still wishing on stars
this is for you too
this is for the times you went through hell so someone else wouldn’t have to
for the time you taught a 14 year old girl she was powerful
this is for the time you taught a 14 year old boy he was beautiful
for the radical anarchist asking a republican to dance
cause what’s the chance of everyone moving from right to left
if the only moves they see are NBC and CBS
this is for the no becoming yes
for scars becoming breath
for saying i love you to people who will never say it to us
for scraping away the rust and remembering how to shine
for the dime you gave away when you didn’t have a penny
for the many beautiful things we do
for every song we’ve ever sung
for refusing to believe in miracles
because miracles are the impossible coming true
and everything is possible
this is for the possibility that guides us
and for the possibilities still waiting to sing
and spread their wings inside us
cause tonight saturn is on his knees
proposing with all of his ten thousand rings
that whatever song we’ve been singing we sing even more
the world needs us right now more than it ever has before
pull all your strings
play every chord
if you’re writing letters to the prisoners
start tearing down the bars
if you’re handing our flashlights in the dark
start handing our stars
never go a second hushing the percussion of your heart
play loud
play like you know the clouds have left too many people cold and broken
and you’re their last chance for sun
play like there’s no time for hoping brighter days will come
play like the apocalypse is only 4…3…2
but you have a drum in your chest that could save us
you have a song like a breath that could raise us
like the sunrise into a dark sky that cries to be blue
play like you know we won’t survive if you don’t
but we will if you do
play like saturn is on his knees
proposing with all of his ten thousand rings
that we give every single breath
this is for saying–yes
this is for saying–yes
Extended Holiday
I’ve been back from OZ for a month now. The time away was incredible. Each day was adventure filled from sunrise to sunset. I felt incredibly blessed to have the opportunity to spend five weeks on holiday. Just like the Europeans do, just like the Aussies do. I remember years ago at a restaurant in Curacao visiting my in-laws viewing how laid back the Dutch were. Relaxing with their glasses of wine, enjoying each exotic plate from the “rijsttafel” (rice table), basking in the company of each other and simply taking the time. It was such a contrast to uptight me. We still laugh at my bizarre behavior but upon seeing the menu prices in what I mistakenly thought was in US dollars but in reality was Netherland Antilles Guilders or Florins I promptly ran out of the door and locked myself in the car. Darren and my in-laws spent some time coaxing me back through the door but because of my anxiety (tight-ass as the Aussies would say) over prices we never did try the exotic dishes of the rijsttafel, but ordered a few cheap appetizers and left. Experience denied.
My attitude has changed over the years and I am proud to announce I soaked up every single moment of this trip. Each day adding a layer of experience that previously had not been there… but when I arrived home Land had started school and moved out. Ricky, who had been staying with us, moved back to Missouri. Empty, boring, quiet nest. Darren also became alarmingly sick with a persistent staph infection in his leg that required daily visits to the ER for crazy drainage procedures and IV antibiotics. I was scared. And I kind of fell into a funk. Jenny said it would happen: she predicted it would be the first time cooking spaghetti Bolognese I would burst into tears. It didn’t even take that long… making hot compresses for Darren’s leg and wiping the cavernous house down with antibiotic cleanser and no young adults around to tease and goad me into a lighter mood did it. I know I sound a bit snotty and after I recount the fabulous trip you’ll think get a grip girl, but we have been slammed the last few years with hiccups and obstacles and crazymaking scenarios (ie: real life) and this vacation was like saying, to quote my friend’s basketball playing son, “ahhh screw it and go for it”
And go for it we did. I mean our last four days of Sydney packed in museum-hopping, city-exploring, Opera-Housing, dinner-eating, concert-going, singing-dancing, surf-watching, ferry-gliding, bus-riding, beach-walking, friend-visiting and the last event on the last day, in the Blue Mountains, “canyoning.”
My definition: EXHILARATING!!!
Jenny’s sister Alison and her comrades are adventure girls… phenomenonal. Alison planned out this wildness by first sending us a list of unusual equipment for a riverwalk in the woods: a helmet, a dry bag, a wetsuit, a beanie, long underwear, shorts, swimsuit, a backpack, lunch, hiking shoes that can get wet. Darren kept asking questions wanting to know exactly what each item would be used for. He had in his head that we would be doing a “lilo” floating on an air mattress with perhaps an “eski” (cooler) filled with cold drinks trailing along with us. Not even. We got our gear on, I’ll call mine the “witchipoo” ensemble, and began wading through the sandstone encased water. Oh my Goodness! Narrow little slot canyons covered in green misty moss and sunlight shards piercing the crisp cold water. At some points you would slide wickedly fast down the well worn rock and land in a pool wanting to shout out a “you hoo” but being overcome by the coldness and excitement of it all hardly able to even get a breath in. At other points you jumped down the waterfall into the glimmering pool below and sometimes you climbed through rock tunnels the moist misty spray accompanying you. My favorite was what we lovingly (afterwards) referred to as the toilet bowl. We pushed our bottoms off maybe a 15’ drop into a hole carved in the rock approximately 4’ in diameter. I was scared. I felt like a circus performer at the top of a ladder aiming for a barrel down below. After accomplishing the canyon, feeling all brave and self-satisfied conquering something so dangerous, I told Allison, “This really is amazing fun.” She nonchalantly replied, “Oh it’s really safe, just a little exposure.”
Good Times, Good People, Good Day Mate!
Would you go canyoning? What has been a memorable holiday adventure for you? It has been a long time, but I’m back and I’d love to hear from you.
The holidays flew by. The boys came home and that brought joy to my heart. We cooked a lot of food together. We set new year guidelines. (They didn’t want to have goals). I have so many. I take off tomorrow for Sydney to visit Jenny and then Darren will join me for a scuba adventure to the far northern Great Barrier Reef. I’m giddy with excitement mixed with a healthy dose of anxiety. Be safe everyone.
