Grandmother died when I was 12 after a three year on and off battle with ovarian cancer.  Most of my memories of her are somewhat fuzzy, but one of the more vivid memories I do have are associated with the strong smell of Youth Dew.  The bottle in case you haven’t seen it, is shaped like an elegant evening dress and there is a gold bow around the middle attached with gold elastic.  If I was lucky, Grandmother gave me the bow for a bracelet.

I have some other, stronger memories or ideas associated with my Grandmother.  One is of us sitting in a bed reading the Bible.  The other is that she taught me The Lord’s Prayer (whether she actually did or not, I can’t be sure, but I associate my knowledge of the prayer with her) and I can still her her singing, “What a Friend We Have in Jesus.”  Grandmother did not sing this song gently, as a lullaby, with gusto and she didn’t care that she was mostly off key.  She believed.  As I grow older, I do sometimes wonder if she really believed or if the gusto with which she sang was more of an effort to convince herself of the words.  I believe the former, but am, sadly, haunted by the latter in my own prayer life.

What a friend we have in Jesus

All our sins and griefs to bear

What a privilege to carry

Everything to God in prayer.

My prayer life is a struggle.  Grandmother, I can never say for sure, except that she overwhelmingly seemed to trust God and expected his goodness in her life.  Almost like when the Deacon says, “It is time for the Lord to act” at the beginning of the liturgy.  Surety. 

Youth Dew is not my perfume.  There is nothing subtle about it and thus, it belongs to my Grandmother, who I don’t think had much subtlety about her, from what I remember and what my Mom has shared with me from her own memories.  I certainly covet an ounce of her faith.

May God bless you and keep you, may He make His face to shine upon you and grant you peace.

Then, there is the gaggle of high school students waiting for the bus.  Yesterday morning there was a group of girls, one of them vocally saying, “I don’t care if she talks to him of course, but she doesn’t need to talk to him like *I* talk to him, because…” and I didn’t hear anything else.  It’s easy to surmise that she was talking about a boy friend and some other girl trying to hone in on her territory.  I remember seeing some of the same behavior when I was in high school.  It would seem the stakes are always high in teenage romantic relationships.  There is the boy with the longish hair and the black heavy metal themed tee shirt.  Today, it was Megadeth themed.  The metal heads listened to Megadeth when I was in high school.  I suppose some things remain timeless…nothing is new under the sun, I suppose.

Then there is the Hispanic girl I’ve seen for the past two mornings.  She is always dressed perfectly, every hair in place, face made up perfectly with her “daytimer” spilling out of one of her bags.  Her outer veneer exudes confidence, yet there is still something of the little girl I feel in her countenance.  Part of her knows, as we adults know when we dress and accessorize as she does, that we are only playing at grownups.  Many a time I’ve dressed well for others, when I what I really wanted was to wear flip flops and a floppy hat.  Further down the road is an older hispanic woman who greatly resembles this girl.  Her brow is furrowed as she walks briskly in the direction of the bus stop. 

Yesterday, I turned to watch the scene unfold. She simply watched her daughter get on the bus and then turned to walk away.  Her daughter (I assume) did not acknowledge her presence.  It is a moment tender and full of heart break.  The girl wants her independence and her mother wants to know she is safe as she steps away.  I feel the same every time my daughter releases my hand runs ahead of me when we take a walk together.  This is just a rehearsal, I think to myself, just a rehearsal for the time when she lets go for the last time.  We both need to learn how to let go by degrees.

God bless… 

The herb garden was my target last night.  I pulled out some of the Egyptian onions and mint to give to a co-worker.  While I was in there, I realized the chives and yarrow could use a little thinning as well.  Then I transferred some herbs from the front porch pots to the back porch garden, but I forgot the chamomile, so I’ll transfer it this morning.  That patch of dirt in front of the back fence is actually starting to look a little like a garden.  It’s only taken 7 1/2 years. 

I now have very minimalist plans for the front porch.  It would be nice to have geranium, a fern and maybe some hibiscus out there.  But that’s it.  I don’t see me having the time or money to invest in much more.  And perhaps I’ll get some begonias for the ugly space in between the bushes that live in front of the porch.  Hopefully, I can keep the kids out of that space.

A few minutes with my fingers in the dirt seemed to clear my head.  It’s encouraging to see everything waking up after a long nap.  The sweet woodruff is even blooming already.  Hope sometimes comes dressed in little white flowers.

God bless…

Through it all, of course, there has been help and support and love from those around us.  But it is very difficult to be honest about all that this struggle has entailed.  There is a fine line between sharing too much with others and not sharing enough.  Often I find myself second guessing what I may have said to someone else, “was I selfish?”  “Did I not take into account the struggles someone else might be having or make my pain seem greater than the other person’s; as if I somehow ‘count’ more?”

It’s hard to experience joy in this state.  Do I even really know what it is?  This is a pressing question as we approach our Pascha, the feast of feasts.  In church, where I should be able to lay aside all earthly cares, I find myself distracted by them instead.  Certainly this reflects my lack of faith.  Will I truly be able to release those internal rubber bands and  experience all the joy that Pascha is?  Elder Porphyrios says in Wounded by Love:

Paradise is for one to see forever the face of God.  It is an experience higher than the sight of flowers and exotic birds, of clear gurgling water and roses and of all the beauties that exist on earth, and higher than all lesser loves.

I know that the joy we feel here on earth is only a reflection of the true joy in paradise.  But I do so want to at least be able to step into that reflection, if only for an instant.  But it seems such a struggle to do so, to lay aside all the earthly cares that bind me. Am I to struggle for this joy?  

I don’t have an answer.

God bless…

Yesterday, one of our friends from church handed David a bag with three new superhero costumes, Batman, Spiderman and a Power Ranger.  We don’t have cable so we know nothing about the Power Rangers.  David doesn’t care.  What he doesn’t know, he’ll make up.

David wanted a mask for the Batman costume.  His first idea was for us to get some plastic and cut it in the shape of a mask and then have Daddy paint it black.  We explained to him that we don’t have plastic laying around waiting to be turned into masks.  Undaunted, David turned to construction paper. Last night, I drew, as best I could, a batman shaped mask for him with silver sharpie on black construction paper.  David cut it out, we added strings so he could attach it to his face and I thought that was the end of the story.

Nope.

This morning he woke up and declared that he had “lost” his mask.  “I’m sorry, Mom.  I lost the mask and we’ll have to make a new one.”  Now, “we” is usually, “me” because David doesn’t quit have the fine motor skills to draw a mask as well as he would like.  I think he does a great job, but the end result rarely fits his “vision.” And not only were we going to replace the first mask (which I later saw on the floor in the hallway upstairs) but this new mask was to have a front *and* a back.

The problem with David and his projects is that he doesn’t think through his vision completely before he enlists his assistants.  So, as his chief assistant, I often go through several drafts before arriving at the real thing.  

“But, but, but Mom: a)it’s too big, b)it’s too small, c)it’s not fat enough, d)the eyes are in the wrong place, e)(insert superhero here) doesn’t have (insert facial feature here), are a few of the usual complaints.”

Needless to say, we should own stock in construction paper companies.  And we should apologies to forests everywhere for robbing them of so many trees.  If only David would channel his dogged determinism into learning his math facts….And, of course, I get frustrated because I like to have a project completed.  I can’t stand things that drag on and on and on, constant revisions, etc. This is probably one of the reasons I have so many unfinished stories laying around.

But this is my David.  He has a vision and he must see it through to the end.  And, while it frustrates me greatly at times, I do love him for it.  And, I suppose, if I keep my eyes and heart open, I might just learn something from David’s attitude.

Sorry this isn’t a meaningful Holy Week reflection.  Motherhood is it’s own asceticism.  Or, so I’ve heard.

God bless!  It’s raining here, and I think I heard the trees whispering that they were glad for it!!

Tonight, we were blessed to see two deer as they ran through a field and across the trail in front of us.  In typical boy fashion, David wanted to chase after the deer and catch them.  He didn’t seem to understand that the deer, while beautiful, were not necessarily friendly towards us human types.

As we were heading back to the car, Ana stopped in front of one of the horse pens to pick some flowers or some such.  One of the horses made a bee line right for her.  I imagine it was hoping to be fed.  Ana also has an uncanny way with animals and she loves horses, so maybe the big guy just sensed a kindred spirit.  On the way home Ana said, “I just love the smell of the horses.  I wish I had something that smelled like horses to put in my room so I could smell them all the time.”  It was very sweet.  

Jim kept trying to sneak up on me and take my picture.  Amazing that after 10 years he still wants to be in the same room with me, much less try to document me in candid moments.   It could leave a girl breathless.

So much life happens in these fleeting precious moments.  I hope I don’t forget them.

God bless!

Let’s play tag-if you have a blog, TAG you’re it! Copy and Paste your answers to these questions onto your blog!
Four Things about Me

A) FOUR PLACES I GO OVER AND OVER: Church; The library; work, the grocery store.

B) FOUR PEOPLE WHO ENCOURAGED MY FAITH ALONG THE WAY: My grandmothers, High School Youth Leaders (the pastor’s wife, Nancy), my husband, friends.

C) FOUR OF MY FAVORITE FOODS: chocolate, cheese, jambalaya, popcorn.

D) FOUR PLACES I WOULD RATHER BE RIGHT NOW: Bed, the mountains overlooking a lake, Assateague Island, somewhere I’ve never been, Ireland maybe.

E) FOUR MOVIES I WOULD WATCH OVER AND OVER: BBC’s Pride and Prejudice, Pretty in Pink (I know, I know), Casablanca, The Incredibles.

F)FOUR THINGS I LIKE ABOUT THE ORTHODOX CHURCH: The community of the saints both here on earth and on heaven, the struggle, the holiness, the firm foundation.

G) FOUR OF MY FAVORITE HOBBIES: reading, writing, crocheting, walking, gardening (sorry, that was 5)

“Kill them all.  Let God sort them out.”

My first reaction was anger, “how nice!” in a very sarcastic tone and, to my shame, I judged this person I didn’t even know..  This morning, as I took my walk, I thought more about this bumper sticker sentiment and my reaction.  I see so many people with plastic faces formed into grotesque imitations of happiness, trying to convince themselves and others that they are “having the time of their lives.  Yet there is so much sadness and rage underneath it all.  The plastic shell begins to shatter.  Are we aware of this “joy” that is a lie?

My daughter is full of life.  When Ana is happy, you know it.  Her eyes sparkle and her face glows.  When she’s unhappy, her eyes become pools of discontent.  When she’s sad, those eyes darken, the sparkle is gone.  Ana knows what it is to be joyful.  What is it about becoming an adult that leads us to forget this honesty, to forget who we are?  How do I help Ana, David and Mike hold onto to her personhood and not sell out to a culture that wants to pretend?

Lord have mercy.

“Um, Mike honey, we’ve only had one civil war.  There were two ‘World Wars’ however.”

He then asked me for the dates of both World Wars and the Civil War.  The next question, “Were there any wars in the 1700’s.”

“Of course,” I said, “American Revolution.”

“I’ve never heard about that one.”

After I peeled my bottom lip from the steering wheel I asked, “They never taught you about the American Revolution in school?”

“No.  What was it?”

“It was the war we fought to win our Independence from Great Britain.”

“Oh yeah.  I think they called it something else.”

“What did they call it?”

“I don’t remember.”

So, there was the new math and now there’s the new history?

Forget “no child left behind.”  I think maybe there all a little “left behind.”  How about, “Give my child an appropriate education, please.”

What’s next for her…any suggestions out there?  We only have 2 or 3 more “girls” left… Ana will be 7 in May if that helps with suggestions. 

Life is weird… 

Ana has two grown up teeth coming in behind her baby teeth in her lower jaw.  This happened to me too when I was her age, so not totally unexpected.  I took her to the dentist on Tuesday to see what to do.  The baby teeth are loose, so he gave us two weeks to wiggle them out on their own.  Otherwise, they will have to be pulled.  Unfortunately, we have no dental insurance (we have medical).  The insurance my job offered is good, but expensive since they charge more if you work part time.  All of our prescriptions only cost $5 if I take them to a Medstar affiliated hospital and luckily there is one only 5 minutes down the road from us.  We thought we could manage without dental for a year.  Oops.

Needless to say, “have another apple, Ana,” is an oft heard suggestion around here lately.  The dentist will work with us on the payment and there is also a dental school in Baltimore where we might manage to get them pulled a little more cheaply.  I just hate to take Ana to a “new” place for a procedure that might prove somewhat traumatic.  She likes our dentist and the people that work in the office.  But sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do.  I might make Jim take her, though.

David has a new Transformer.  As I tried to “transform” the thing for him last week, I wondered if there was a book out there called “Transforming transformers for Dummies.”  If there isn’t, there should be!  I tried to follow the directions, but they might as well have been written in Japanese.  David didn’t take my explanation of “this is a BOY thing” as an excuse to give up, either.  I finally resorted to borrowing from George Lucas and just “used the force.”  I did transform that sucker.  And David can do it by himself now too.  Not really surprising since one of his latest pastimes is taking stuff apart to see how it works.  His Uncle (my brother) is a mechanical engineer and I seem to remember him doing the same kind of thing.  Although finding a screwdriver next to dismantled small appliance is somewhat frustrating (especially for Dad) it is good to have mechanically minded people in the family.

To my Orthodox friends…three more weeks to Pascha.  Yay!

Have a great day! 

You scored as Pooh!

ABOUT POOH: Pooh is a bear of Very Little Brain but quite a lot of heart. He enjoys the simple things in life, like visiting friends (in time for lunch), counting honey pots, and going for nice walks. He is a steadfast and loyal friend, and is often much brighter than he thinks he is.

WHAT THIS SAYS ABOUT YOU: You are a positive and calm sort of person, and you tend to go with the flow. When things go wrong, you generally find the most practical solution and put things right, with very little worry or fuss. You are a rock that your friends can lean on in times of trouble.

Your attitude towards life is very Zen. You appreciate the small things in life, while still managing not to sweat the small stuff. Your biggest flaw is your tendency to underestimate yourself. You are actually much smarter and more capable than you think you are.  (has that guy been talking to my mom?)

Who are you? 

Props to half the Orthodx blogosphere…and Huw too! 

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed—-and gazed—-but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

~William Wordsworth