Posts Tagged ‘family’
Hi, Mom
It’s a tough thing to lose a parent, but my mom lived a long, full life. She was ready to go when her time came, and I was ready for her to go. It’s been many years since I’ve been able to spend time with her on Mother’s Day, and as each additional year passes, instead of getting easier, I find I miss her more and more.
Here’s to my mom.
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Overwhelmingly Loved
I am living a charmed life lately. Really. It’s a bit overwhelming. How do you adequately thank someone for loving you?
Pequenita has been dishing out so much affection for me that I am almost feeling smothered by her. At the same time, who can resist the charm of a cat who repeatedly seeks a perch somewhere on top of you?
She can be so insistent for attention when I get home from work that I have to pick her up to protect my legs from becoming her scratching post. If I make the mistake of choosing to lay down with her for a few minutes at that hour of the day, I usually become the victim of an unplanned nap.
She oftentimes finds a suitable spot on my legs and joins me for a snooze.
My lovely wife has been spoiling me with extra special attention by choosing healthy options for my goal of eating a reduced sugar diet, and tweaking her bread recipes to incorporate more diverse grains with extra substance. Lately I have a thing for millet in bread, along with a fondness for wheat berry and sunflower nuts, in addition to the usual whole grains.
Yesterday, Cyndie nailed it with a couple of excellent loaves, hot out of the oven at dinner time, while she was simultaneously whipping up some fresh homemade pasta to serve as a base under her delectable leftover beef bourguignon that was recently pulled from the freezer.
It certainly feels like being loved, to be fed like that.
My mom gave Cyndie some special training on how to make the bread I grew up with. Talk about love!
Last night, while looking at the beautiful loaves she created, I suddenly noticed an insight about how my father must have felt about the bread mom baked for him throughout their life together. Mom told us stories about how she first learned to bake bread when they were newlyweds stationed in a fire lookout tower in Glacier National Park.
By the time I was born, over 10-years later, she had definitely mastered the craft. Her homemade bread was a staple in our kitchen. Dad was a stern scolder when we didn’t cut straight slices. We toasted it and fried it, and I recall Dad used a slice to soak up the juice on the meat platter when the menu involved steak.
My parents weren’t very demonstrative of their love, but looking back, those years of homemade bread reveal a pretty good version of it.
Now I am blessed with the same. It is overwhelmingly lovely.
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Wondering Aloud
Cyndie and I have recently found ourselves pondering the limitations of our ability to love someone out of their predicament. It gets downright frustrating to watch others destroy their own lives despite a wealth of loving family support desperately wanting to help.
Frustration Builds to Anger
I think part of the challenge for us is the struggle of overcoming anger that builds up in us from witnessing the neglect of self, and abuse of others, dished out by people in need who choose to ignore all common sense offers of assistance. By our own philosophy, we want to be sending a flood of love to all others, even if they are making us angry. That gets hard to do sometimes.
As a person who lived with a dysfunctional mindset of depression for many, many years, I recognize how self-focused a person with mental illness can become. I understand that the person with mental illness doesn’t logically perceive how much pain and sorrow they inflict on those who dearly love them, especially family. Heck, even if the message were to make it through, it could well be insufficient to inspire a change toward choosing to become healthy in response.
Yes, family seems to receive the brunt of our worst selves, even when they are the ones to whom we are most attached. Well, for that matter, even our own selves tend to become the target of our worst. That’s how these predicaments get started in the first place!
Cyndie and I understand that the only person we can change is ourselves. As a parent, it became one of the driving forces for me to want to become the healthiest I can be. I couldn’t force my children to love themselves and make healthy decisions, but I could make that a goal for myself. Doing so became an influence on my relationship with Cyndie. Our subsequent couples therapy and efforts to grow toward the healthiest possible relationship then imbued our household with that intentional energy.
I can’t say for sure that it is responsible for healthy choices our now grown children have demonstrated thus far in their lives, but I no longer see my past dysfunctional behaviors reflected back to me like I began to experience when they were young and I was ill.
Healthy Choice of Sending Love
The exercise that Cyndie and I talked about wanting to embrace last night is to emulate the confidence of our precious friend, Dunia, and not let our feelings of frustration and anger sidetrack our good intentions of wholeheartedly loving those dear to us who are not of a mind to love themselves. We want to send love with the fullest belief in the power of that love to make a healthy difference.
You see, doing so is an act of making us healthier. We can’t make others choose health. That is their responsibility. We can know we are honestly providing loving energy and by focusing on that, overcome the interference of frustration and anger over things we cannot control.
It doesn’t hurt to have a place like this blog where we can vent some extra frustration now and then. It allows us to let go of that which no longer serves and regain a balanced perspective in love.
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March 11th
I had forgotten the significance of March 11, until one of my sisters emailed a note that our sister, Linda, would have turned 64 this year if she were still alive.
I have a precious picture of Linda standing with me at my high school graduation. The event was not a significant achievement in my family, and as such, treated as more of a formality. I was the 5th of 6 kids. By the time I reached the milestone which marks the completion of high school, it had already been done enough times in my family that it was old hat.Floating Along
It’s the middle of February and a life at the ranch is humming along with a reasonable sense of normalcy. We had a fun gathering with Julian and Elysa yesterday for a Valentine’s Day brunch. Julian brought his hoverboard for us to see and test. In a brief lesson, while standing with my hands on the back of a chair, Julian guided me through some steps on the basics.
It only took one quick loss of control where I practically dumped the chair, to decide I was good with just standing on it. I’d had enough and was comfortable simply watching Julian move around the house and spin in circles.
Later, Cyndie took a turn figuring out how to stand on it, while holding the back of the same chair I used. I decided to kneel in the chair as ballast, while watching her. She got about as far as I had before coming to the same conclusion… that was all she needed to experience, thankyouverymuch.
For some reason, her quick exit brought me a renewed confidence to give it another try. Soon, I let go of the chair and was wandering around the house on it. What a gas.
Julian stayed close and moved a few things out of the way to give me greater clearance. I took a couple of spins around the center island in the kitchen, turning in both left and right directions, one time coming in with a bit too much speed. That provided a sense of how one could find their body leaving the board and continuing in the direction of the last momentum.
I decided to complete my initial experience before meeting with any catastrophic failure. Having not practiced dismounting the board, I headed back to the chair. I wanted to try to get off without holding on, but have it within close reach, just in case.
It took many tries to convince myself to lift one foot, without tipping the other forward or back. I pretty much had to leap off, and found myself automatically grabbing the chair at the same time, anyway.
It was a lot of fun. While all that was going on, we also helped Elysa brainstorm ideas for a party she is planning to have at Wintervale this summer. She has a birthday milestone approaching this year and plans to celebrate accordingly. It took a couple tries to adjust our thinking to the fact it will be light out until almost 10 p.m. and there will be leaves on all the trees.
Before they needed to head home, we took the kids on a walk with Delilah through our woods and stopped to say hello to the horses at the barn while wispy white flakes floated down.
It was a super way to share the day with those whom we dearly love!
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Loose Ends
I happened to glance back at a couple of posts and noticed a few story lines I have been remiss in maintaining. For those of you hanging on the edge of your seats in wait for a resolution to these mini-dramas, I offer the following to tie up some loose ends:
The “Check Engine” light on my car turned out to be a bad oxygen sensor in my catalytic converter. Our local auto shop reset the warning light and put in an order for a replacement sensor. In the mean time, it is okay to drive my car, which is a good thing because I really needed the all-wheel-drive yesterday to safely navigate the hazardous winter commute into work.
Oh, that answers Tuesday’s closing line: I did go into work yesterday. I scrambled out of bed as soon as I woke up, noticing that my alarm had been playing the radio for 3 minutes, and headed outside to plow the driveway. We received between 4-5 inches overnight. It kept snowing all day, adding another approx. 4 inches, requiring that I plow again after I got home.
Finally, it is feeling distinctly wintery around here.
I’ve neglected to share one of the special treats Cyndie bestowed on me at our family gift exchange, and it fits nicely with the subject of tying up loose ends. Now that she is not working away from home anymore, Cyndie has been able to give time to projects that have long been dormant.
One task she dug into this fall was to open up some boxes that have been ignored since we moved here back in 2012. She found tee shirts belonging to the kids and me that she had been saving to make memory blankets. Feeling as though she should follow through on that plan, since we paid movers to haul the dang boxes all this way, she busied herself with crafting 3 different blankets in time to present to us all for Christmas.
My siblings may recognize a few of these panels from over 40 years ago.
I’m not sure which I value more… the blanket of treasured memories, or the fact she finally made use of something that we’ve been hauling around and storing, everywhere we’ve lived, for almost 4-decades.
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Slow Motion
Our kids came to visit yesterday and we celebrated a Christmas gift exchange between just the four of us on Boxing Day. We took Delilah for a walk, visiting the labyrinth and then the horses.
We were all in the paddock, milling about amongst the herd. I had grabbed a pitch fork and was cleaning up manure. When I lifted the fork up and knocked some frozen manure off a board, it startled Hunter and his reaction set off the herd panic reaction. I turned to see Julian deftly react with a leaping side-step as Hunter bolted past, barely averting a collision. Delilah tried to shrink herself as Hunter ran right over her.
I didn’t see how Elysa and Cyndie avoided being run over by Legacy and Cayenne behind me, but somehow the dangerous “emergency evacuation” by the horses was carried out without causing anyone physical harm. Seconds later, the horses looked around and sensed there was no threat, returning to their previous stations as if nothing had happened.
It’s possible the horses had not entirely recovered from the high alert they were on earlier in the day, when coyote hunters and their baying dogs were creating a ruckus in the vicinity.
On the way up toward the house, Cyndie pulled out discs to throw for Delilah, and Julian pulled out his phone to record slow motion video of the action.
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At the beginning of each video, Delilah has one disc in her mouth, which we tell her to drop before chasing the next toss. We have to hustle to pick up the one she drops, because her real goal is to try to get both discs and keep them away from us, despite how much she loves chasing after them when we fling ’em.
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Truly Best
Our Christmas celebrations this year have provided a wonderful addition to years of fabulous Christmases with Cyndie’s family. Now that we live in Wisconsin, the routine for us has settled into a pattern of driving back and forth to Edina on Christmas eve, and then two more times on Christmas day. This allows us to participate in spectacular meals, and all that comes with them, as well as tend to the care of Delilah and our horses back home.
I’m used to driving that route, so it doesn’t bother me. The trouble comes in accounting for that extra hour that always separates us from our intended destination. It becomes a struggle to get out of the house on time to arrive at the celebration by the appointed hour.
Then we need to watch the clock while enjoying the time of our lives so that we don’t end up forcing our dog to wait too long without us at home. Sure wish we could just ask Scotty to beam us home. We always want to stay longer at the social gathering, but without it resulting in such a late return to our home an hour away.
I enjoyed two particular “bests” yesterday that deserve specific mention. Cyndie’s mother, Marie, is a master hostess who prepares world-class meals for large numbers of guests. The traditional family dinner of beef tenderloin on Christmas day is one of my favorites. It is magical, because no matter what variations may occur every year, it is always the best meal I have ever had.
This year, it was even better than that.
Honestly, I struggle to justify enjoying such gastronomical pleasure. The dessert which followed the best-dinner-ever included a cranberry cake with a caramel sauce topping that always tastes so amazing, it should be recognized as a dangerous weapon and require a license to prepare.
I received some very nice gifts from very generous people this Christmas, but there is one that immediately claimed my heart as the best possible thing I opened. We draw names for a gift exchange in Cyndie’s family, and this year, my fellow in-law, Sara, wife of Cyndie’s brother, Ben, picked my name out of the hat.
She nailed the precise art of matching a gift to the recipient, and steeped it in her own joy while creating it. Sara made a wood-burned image of our Wintervale logo on a beautiful pine board. I find it absolutely beautiful to look at. It smells good, too!
It is the best gift.
I just want to look at it again and again. It is one of a kind, made by Sara’s hands, and intended specifically for me. What a precious thing.
I had a very merry Christmas.
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Christmas Sentiment
I am giving myself a present for Christmas, and it comes from everyone who loves me.
I am going to choose to consciously allow myself to absorb, feel, and appreciate the love that others shower over me in myriad ways.
It’s simple, but oh so powerful.
Thank you to all who love me. May you feel and receive an abundance of amplified love in return!
Merry Christmas!
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Sneaking Treats
I’m feeling a bit of a sugar overdose this morning after a day of too many treats. I told Cyndie that I kept sneaking cookies and caramels as if I was trying to hide them from myself. I don’t think I successfully fooled me.
We had a bit of a weather event move through the region yesterday. It wasn’t as bad as the tornadoes that proved lethal in the south, but it added a little drama to my double-commute. After navigating the snow to get home from work, we drove back into the cities through the heaviest snow for dinner and a visit with friends and family.
Yesterday’s precipitation started as rain. Cyndie had smartly moved the horses into the barn overnight, while they were calm and dry Tuesday evening. She described the horses as wanting to go outside Wednesday morning, even though the obvious reverberation of raindrops on the metal roof meant they would get a soaking once out.
By the time I got home in the afternoon, it was falling as all snow. It was a sloppy, sticky mess. Rolling slowly along the driveway, I inspected the herd. The two young chestnuts were in the back pasture, grazing normally. Dezirea was near Legacy, close to the paddock, but out in the hay-field area. She had her butt to the wind and her head down, in the classic pose of enduring the wetness.
It was Legacy who drew my attention. I felt a moment of alarm, wondering if he may have a serious problem, so I stopped to observe him for about three minutes. I couldn’t quite figure out his issue, because his uncharacteristic behavior included as many normal gestures as odd ones.
I decided he just looked uncomfortable and reported it to Cyndie immediately. She headed out to check and let them back in the barn for the night. Turned out to be accumulations of sticky snow balled up under his hooves that were irritating him.
After picking up my car that had been in for service— oh, that’s another story… The recent flat tire revealed that all my tires were pretty worn out. I authorized a full set of new tires and asked them to change the oil while they had it. I wasn’t surprised when the shop called to report the rotors of the front brakes were in bad shape. It was time. Nor was I surprised when they called again and said the calipers not working is probably what wore out the rotors. New calipers, too.
The repair of my one flat tire had escalated into a 3-day project that was in danger of costing a quarter of the car’s worth. When I called to see if it was ready for us to pick up, the tech answered and reported that, yes, the battery had come, and it was ready now.
Battery?
Oh, yeah. That, too. That one flat tire led to a very expensive visit to the shop. Merry Christmas, John. You just spent your holiday bonus and then some. I will say, I am very satisfied to have this much car, with its known history, for that amount of money.
I’m off work until next Monday and we now enter full Christmas eventing for the next 4 days. If I find time, I’ll write about it.
It’s going to involve a lot of driving in my “new” car, and I’m hoping a somewhat controlled amount of sugary treats.
Merry Christmas to you!
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Relative Something 