Four head

[I'm embarrassed that it's been so long since I've added to the blog. Sorry- I'll do better!]

Elizabeth flew in for Christmas and has spent a lot of time with all of us. She and Granger have a particular bond that amazes us all. Granger calls Elizabeth "Neena."

Granger, with his sensory issues, LOVES to be scratched. He'll often present a body part and ask, "Please scratch." The day after Christmas, Granger asked Elizabeth to scratch his "four head." After a minute, he said, "Now please scratch my one head."

Elizabeth, intrigued, asked, "Which is your one head?"

"Up there, on the top!"

"Where's your two head?"

"Neena- I don't have a two head..."

"Three head?"

"No Neena- just a one and a four head," with a look of "Why don't you understand this simple concept?"

His language play amazes us all.

Two worlds

[We're in Hilton Head for a conference and a brief vacation. This morning Sharlet and I took our daily walk along the beach. It was truly beautiful. As is our custom, we went a ways together, and then kissed goodbye while she went home and I pressed on. While pressing on, a thought struck me....]

As I turned around and headed back down the beach this morning, I found myself looking a different way. It's funny how we find patterns in our lives- always looking and walking to the left or right, always stepping aside for an older person, etc. Well as I headed south this morning, I found myself looking more to the left and to the ocean. As I'd glance to the right and to the mansions along the coast, the dichotomy of the situation struck me.

To the left was the glory of God. Some would say the most glorious beauty to be found on this earth. The beauty of the ocean- the comforting rhythm of the waves and their womb-like nestling against the edge of the earth. The sight of the mighty ocean almost overwhelms with the majesty of a creator and the beauty of this earth. Smells of ocean and salty fresh breezes flow around in a swirling, heady mix, creating a sensual symphony- almost a euphoria of nature. I do love the ocean. As a people we do- it brings such calmness and serenity and leaves us refreshed as we head home to our various destinations.

As I looked right a very different world came to view. The beach world and its terrestrial trappings nudged as close to the beach as possible. Mansions heralded the worldly success of their respective owners and then, the rows of condominiums speak to the ephemeral life on the beach and the price we willingly pay for the momentary bliss. Some think the beach life represents man at his or her most worldly. Who has the most toys, best body, best surfing skills, darkest tan, most money and largest house closest to the ocean?

The duality of these two worlds struck me this morning, as I walked their border, straddling them and dancing in turn with each. Like many, I enjoyed looking at the stately manor homes and pondering over the ways such wealth may be gained, but in the end, it was the ocean and its serenity which brought me the greatest joy and the true peace of soul which I sought on my walk.

I suppose we must live in both worlds and, in fact, must deal with both on a daily basis, but which one truly holds our heart may be the key to our happiness.

Mother

She brought me into this world. She raised me to be the person I am, and I love her. Now she sits languishing in an "assisted living facility" about an hour away from us. Alzheimer's is taking its morbidly progressive toll.

As we entered the room though, her face lit up with pure joy making the entire visit so worthwhile. It was only after a few moments that I realized that she thought I was my father (Husband #2) and my son was the teenage version of me. (Son #3) Reality finally eased in, I think, and we spoke of plans and family and friends. She smiled and laughed and helped us remember when the smiles and laughter were more knowing and more intentional.

She's traveled a bumpy path. Her battles with ill health have drug on for more than 40 years. I don't know anyone who thought she would make it this far- she'll turn 80 in two months. I remember as a teenager serving her as she lay in bed for months, recovering from the first of a long string of "we can fix this" surgeries. Two knee replacements, two hip replacements, and a heart valve replacement later, she is quasi-living proof of the miracles of medicine. Her three marriages, flood of family deaths and drama, and a personal life rife with tumult and pain led to an existence of always trying to scrape by and a find a way. So many skeletons in so many closets. I'm sure there are many that will come out only after her passing. Now her way is simply sitting there, quietly staring out the window.

I wonder what she sees in her mind's eye. A bit absent- a bit gone. But you can see the wheels slowly turning. Realities blend to suit her current mode and mood, as it was with my being my father.

There are times I think they should call them "assisted dying facilities."

Looking Up

I've written several times about my walks in the morning along the river wall in our little town. The focus has most often been the sights and sounds of the river. Now, by definition, unless you're swimming or drowning, the river is going to be below you as you encounter it.

Recently on a walk, I came up the little 10 foot hill that leads to the river walk, and happened to look up.

Th early morning sky exploded into my vision. The clarity of the cool morning allowed stars to appear which were normally too shy or reticent to make a showing. Well, that morning they burst forth in stunning depth and light. I literally stopped in my tracks and just stood agape and gazed at the celestial beauty.

A few jets left their own trails of twinkling lights, but we thought how sad that those people were missing this incredible sight. The stars seemed so crystalline and close that I wanted to reach up and pluck out a couple to take home to the kids. I wanted to bask in their light and soak up their twinkle. I couldn't take it all in, like those times when you feel so small standing next to the immensity of the ocean.

I'm not sure how long I stood there just capturing and recapturing the moment, but I know when I moved on I was literally and figuratively looking up. It is indeed a beautiful world, and I love pondering the stars and their own respective worlds. One of my favorite quotes is "We need to remember that we are spiritual beings having an earthly experience, not earthly beings having a spiritual experience." That morning on my little walk, that was brought home with great clarity.

Threshold/ Update

[It's hard to believe I have not written here for a week. Life does get busy. This isn't really writing in the sense of creation, but it is sharing something in which those who follow this blog might have interest.]

Here we have it- a classic, good news and bad news. The good news is that I've met another goal in my weight loss program. The bad (for me) is that I'm about to throw out some pretty embarrassing numbers.

I began a serious weight loss/conditioning/ better health program in mid-June of this year. At that time, I was nudging too close to 250 pounds. Scary. I was OOO-bese. The program has been going quite well, as I've commented about before in my blog, and I've enjoyed it thoroughly. This morning I passed another threshold and hit another goal. In my original goals, this was the one for Homecoming, which was last week. I was hovering, but didn't quite make it. So I'm a week late, but I'm there!! Today it's official. I'm in single digits- in other words- 2-0-something. I was actually 209. This is the first time in about 10 years that I have weighed in the 2-single digits category. VERY exciting. So in the 4 months since June 14th, I've lost 35-40 pounds.

In a few weeks to a month, I'll break through the MAJOR goal/threshold which is getting out of the 200's altogether. (And, I might add, KEEPING out!) I cannot wait for that, and honestly, don't know how long it's been since that has been the case. I suspect it's close to 20 years. (I'm 6'1" by the way, for those who are curiously calculating!)

I would like to thank all of you who have helped me in this program. And it has been quite a few. Even those who simply say, "Wow- have you lost weight? You look great!" And frankly, even the nay-sayers who ask suspiciously, "Are you keeping the weight off?" They certainly spur me on with greater determination! So many have helped, but I must express my deepest gratitude to my cherished companion in all things, Sharlet. For the past 6 weeks, she has been walking WITH me (She's lost quite a bit of weight as well.) and has been helping me with moral support. She's also become quite a phenomenal Smoothie maker!

Keep your cyber-calenders open, because in a month or so there's going to be a BIG (well- formerly BIG-) party. Under 200!! Thank you all.

Wordsmith

[I have loved writing for most of my 48 years. Like many things closest to us, we sometimes take for granted that which we hold dear. I have recently renewed my relationship with writing and have loved the second honeymoon! I must give thanks to my friends who have helped in the renewal. Having said that, I've been pondering over the craft of writing...]

One of the finest compliments a writer can receive is to refer to him or her as a "wordsmith." Like an athlete "in the zone," this conjures up images of the great ones and allows the newly great or someday great to feel hope and confidence.

I've been pondering over this word and as I did so, it struck me....

I have an uncle who is a blacksmith. Really. He lives in the country and creates glorious works of art in his shop- with heat, anvil and iron. And his eye for creating beauty from those simple things. From his dark sweat and grime emerge light and beauty. His works are sold at fine art places and the finest hotel shops along the east coast. He doesn't make horse shoes, he creates fireplace sets and kitchen hangings and beautiful pieces to grace a home and make it a more pleasant place to be. He twists and pulls the iron to milk every ounce of beauty from its simple strength. He evokes beauty from simplicity.

So it is with a wordsmith. From the simple and plain he extracts the beautiful and evocative. He has no need of verbosity or the ornate language of those who write to impress. He stretches and pulls and twists and wrestles with the words and brings forth a well-crafted sentence- and evocative paragraph- a thought-provoking idea. The key is the eye and the ability to forge the simple into the lovely. A turn of phrase. A spectacular image. A thought which demands an even greater thought from the reader.

Let us, as writers, make beauty from simplicity. Let us twist and wrestle and heat up our language that it might take on a new life in the mind of a reader. Let us forge spectacular, heart-stopping beauty from the lovely simplicity all around us. Let us be wordsmiths.

Training Wheels

The young boy wobbles less on his new bike,
And the training wheels disappear,
Leaving joy and doubt remaining-
both within and without.

The Father now assumes their role-
Supporting, lifting, providing safety.
But he continues to add encouragement, love and faith-
Things training wheels could never provide.

Yet so quickly, even the father is no longer needed.
Riding solo- wind in his face- free to fly or fall-- on his own.
Ecstasy of accomplishment and joy of freedom!
No outside influence or support from training wheels.... or dad.

But the faith, encouragement and love remain-- at the ready.
Both newly confident rider and anxious but proud observer know this.
And they find quiet comfort in the knowledge.

Now, the young man heads off to his first homecoming dance-
Taller, straighter, stronger- almost taller than Dad.
No training wheels.
No parents--- on his own.
Wind in his face again....Free!
To fly or fall.
But with the secure knowledge that
The love and faith and encouragement
Will always be there.

Training wheels- on call.