family

Twisting Turning and Folding In – ND #18

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All that wrapping paper was exhausting – Photo: L. Weikel

What’s going on? Am I simply noticing the effects of growing older? Or is time actually twisting, turning, and folding in on itself?

While this may sound facetious, I’m asking this question in all seriousness.

I literally just sat here on the couch for a good hour, basking in the multi-colored glow of our Christmas tree, staring off into space. I can barely articulate what I was thinking about. Past, present, future perhaps? Possibly.

Mostly past and present, I suppose.

Lately, when I think back on Christmases past, they feel more like snippets from different lives. And to be honest, I never thought they’d feel so foreign.

Pacha’s First Christmas – Photo: L. Weikel

More to Come

I’ve caught myself thinking about this a lot lately. I’m starting to conclude that it’s a natural progression that happens to almost everyone – like aging – even though we think it will never happen to our family. In some ways, I suppose, it’s probably essential to our survival as a species. Siblings head off in different directions, each spinning their own webs of stories, memories, and interconnections.

Photos viewed decades later conjure feelings that could easily have been felt yesterday, or as freshly generated as at this very moment. Others jar our concept of ourselves and screech us to a halt in our tracks. “How could I have thought what I remember so vividly ‘knowing’ back then?” and the perennial favorite, “What was I thinking?”

It’s possible I’ll be sharing more of these musings. Santa brought a VCR converter cassette that will allow us to watch the ‘family movies’ we created over the past 30 years. How the first converter managed to get lost is a mystery. But it’s barely been missed, as the reality is that we’re not a family known to gather ’round and watch home movies – a curious fact, when you look at all the tapes we’ve amassed.

30 Years and Counting

Karl and I sprung for one of the newest video cameras available back in the day. It was ‘the’ family gift for Christmas 1991, to be precise. The sad thing about that, for me, is that my mother died that previous August – so we never got the chance to record her voice and image on video. As a result, Sage has never heard my mother’s voice or her laugh. That grieves me.

I imagine it’ll be fun and poignant watching some of these videos. Painful, too – since so many of the videos will feature Karl, of course, being our eldest.

Our memories of holidays and the people we were so long ago morph over the years. So I imagine it’s going to be a bit weird now, especially since we haven’t been priming ourselves for these memories by watching the videos year after year.

They’ll probably feel a bit like blasts out of left field, even though we’re anticipating them.

We’ll see. I’ll keep you posted.

In the meantime, we’ll keep on creating new memories. That’s what we do, right? Most of these, though, will be recorded on our phones. I wonder: will we (or our kids? or our kids’ kids?) be inclined to look back on them even less frequently?

(T+18)

Power of Intention – ND #3

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More than wishes – Photo: L. Weikel

Power of Intention

I think most of us are at least tangentially familiar with the concept of setting intentions in order to accomplish goals or manifest the reality we want to experience. If you’ve read a bunch of my posts, you know I tend to harp on the importance of setting intentions at particularly auspicious times of the month and year. And if you’re familiar with shamanic journeying, you know it’s important (essential in my opinion) to always have an intention before setting out to visit other realms. The power of intention has the capacity to yield astonishing results in our lives.

The truth of this was dramatically borne out in a movie we watched recently. King Richard is about Richard Williams, the father of tennis greats Venus and Serena Williams. Will Smith plays the girls’ father and it’s obvious why he there’s a lot of Oscar buzz around his performance.

Even if you’re not ‘into’ tennis, it’s unlikely you’ve never heard of Venus and Serena. Not only are they each phenomenal in their own right, the fact that they are sisters and they’ve both dominated the sport for years, is downright spectacular.

Having a Plan

Especially when Venus and Serena were just breaking onto the tennis scene, I remember reading or hearing about their father being ‘difficult.’ At least that’s how I remember it being spun. I remember wondering, vaguely, if he was one of those weird ‘stage fathers’ who browbeats their kids and makes life miserable for them all in the pursuit of dominance in the sport.

To be honest, I didn’t really care all that much one way or another. We only watched tennis matches when visiting my sister Jane on the 4th of July. Wimbledon was on the menu every single year, along with lobster and corn on the cob. But watching them play through the years – wow. It was obvious they were incredible athletes. And their behavior off-court was equally impressive. I don’t remember ever seeing them misbehave or act out like the John McEnroes of tennis.

Perhaps because my interest in their story was tangential at best, I had no idea how they came to be who they are. And believe me, their father was the man with the plan – he set the initial intention that created the opportunities his daughters capitalized on through hard work and sheer talent and intuition. (And not an insignificant amount of intention setting on their own part, too.)

Family

What I think I loved most about this movie – beyond the gobsmacking tenacity of the father and talent of the girls – was the way their whole family was so loving and supportive of each other. As trite as these qualities have become through overhyping in the media (often by those who don’t live them), love, respect, and integrity honestly seem to be core values of the Williams family.

And lest you think it was all ‘King Richard’ who made it happen, I beg to differ. No, this was most definitely a collaborative effort of both parents and the three older sisters, too.

It was amazing to watch how perilously close things came – at least a couple of times – to a totally different destiny playing out for the entire family. I have to wonder if at least some of the ‘luck’ was a function of the power of the intention set by Richard Williams himself (and which obviously ‘rubbed off’ on his girls).

King Richard is streaming on HBO Max right now. It looks like it’ll only be available on that venue for another seven or eight days. (I’m not sure how that works or why that’s the case.) If you want to be inspired by greatness and perhaps moved to hone your own power of intention, watch this movie.

(T+3)

He Shows Up – Day 1078

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He Shows Up – Photo: L. Weikel

He Shows Up

It’s hard to describe how much it means to me to have all my kids together at the same time. This weekend was one of those rare treats. Of course, no matter what, there’s always a hole in the fabric of any such gathering because Karl isn’t here. And while it’s not as if we act all maudlin and morose, there’s not a one among us who doesn’t think about him every day – but especially when we’re together. And then, miraculously – inevitably – he shows up.

The weather today lent itself especially to hanging out together and enjoying a fire. The creative juices were flowing and there was some serious pumpkin carving artistry taking place. Puppies reveled in the attention they were receiving from every direction.

Besides our conversations (which, to be honest, mostly centered on Pacha and Brutus), the crackling and popping voice of the fire was the primary sound track of our day.

Brutus & Pacha on a walk 24 Oct 2021 – Photo: L. Weikel

Did You Hear That?

Just as the afternoon was starting to grow some shadows, a couple of us perked up and shushed the others. “Did you hear that?” we asked together. It was the weirdest sound – a chirruping that did not sound familiar at all.

Movement down by the barn caught my eye and Sarah cried out, “It’s a raccoon! Look!”

Sure enough, a raccoon had just slipped into our barn. I barely made out the tip of its tail before it, too, disappeared into the dark innards of the deep red outbuilding. None of us were quick enough on the draw to snap a photo, but we all had to smile. “He had to make an appearance.”

The raccoon continued to make its plaintive cry, though. Only a minute or two later, it poked its head back out the barn door, then hopped out and scurried/waddled around the corner and past the compost pile. Oddly, it didn’t even hesitate at the pile. That usually has treats for all comers of one stripe or another.

Compelled to Follow

The appearance of this lovely, robust raccoon on a perfect fall day when ‘all of us’ are gathered together felt important. Significant.

Yes, we have raccoons that live around here. But it is rare to have them show up during daylight hours, calling a plaintive cry, and clearly on a mission. I felt compelled to follow it and see if I could see what it was doing and where it was headed.

Making sure the puppies were otherwise distracted, I headed out behind the barn. I meandered around the islands of wavy wild grass and the burial mounds of Sheila and Spartacus. I checked out the cherry tree Karl had nearly killed as a young kid.

And then I heard it. What a strange sound. Beyond the Weeping Willows and the eldest Sycamore tree, I heard a sound I can’t even write about phonetically. It was soft at first, and then I caught sight of the raccoon crossing the small creek at the back of our property. It was close – and it stopped and faced me as I realized we were going to encounter each other face-to-face.

It looked right at me and called out its plaintive cry. For the life of me, she sounded like a mommy, calling for her babies. Her coat was thick and beautiful, her eyes bright and her ears perky and aware. Her tail jerked expressively in time with her vocalizations.

Mommies and Babies

This raccoon spoke to me directly twice. It wasn’t afraid; it was demanding. On one level, I do believe it was looking for its babies. On another level it was serving as a messenger to tell me even my baby who’s no longer in a physical body is nevertheless here. Now. Reminding me – no, insisting that I acknowledge: when we need him most, he shows up.

And when I walked back up to the house, marveling at my mystical encounter? After looking at the video and live photos I’d taken (complete with audio), Tiffany gestured toward the pumpkin seed heart she’d found while I was behind the barn.

There are no coincidences. Messages surround us. As much as we miss Karl, I have no doubt he misses us as well and wants us to know: he’s with us in spirit.

Yeah, we love you too – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-33)

He’s Actually Gone – Day 1044

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I Love You, Spartacus – Photo: L. Weikel

He’s Actually Gone

Trying to write this post is a nightmare. Believe me, I don’t want to. It stuns me that it’s necessary. Eulogizing my beloved Spartacus seems redundant. Any attempt – inadequate. I’m going to have to let the million posts I wrote that referenced him and his mother Sheila speak for themselves. I don’t want to believe he’s actually gone. But he is.

The photo that was at the top of last night’s post was taken at 2:00 p.m. yesterday. The rapidity with which his health situation crashed was stunning. The doctors have no clue as to his illness’s etiology.

All I know is that our veterinarian and the emergency veterinarian both were at a loss. His blood work showed his liver and kidneys were failing. He was septic – apparently very much so, according to his blood sugar. And the chances of bringing him back from the brink of reuniting with his mommy, Sheila, were extremely slim.

Hangin’ on the porch – Photo: L. Weikel

Small Comfort

As with all loss, especially the kind that sneaks up and smacks you in the head from behind, questions abound. Regrets, second-guessing, and ‘what-ifs’ swirl unmercifully in your head, and even more so in your heart. While intellectually you might know without a doubt that the one lost (and here I’m making no distinction between the objects of our love) knew they were loved and adored – it is small comfort in the face of the fact that suddenly they’re gone.

Squeaky toy, muddy paws; Photo: L.Weikel

And Yet, It’s Everything

I think that’s probably the most excruciating part about being a human. It’s both the awareness of love and the persistence of that awareness once the beloved is gone. Because it’s that persistence of awareness that stops us in our tracks when we remember they’re gone. And it’s the persistence of that awareness that’s reflected in the pain we humans are terrified of knowing. At least that’s been my experience.

Pain is the direct 1:1 reflection of the depth of the love. It can feel unfathomable.

I love with my whole heart, without restriction. And when I lose an object of my love (particularly unexpectedly) the pain ‘goes there.’ It is hard to see straight for a time. And it’s tempting to wish I’d never opened myself up to being hurt so deeply, to being left so vulnerable.

The Four S’s – Photo: L.Weikel

And Then I Remember

I remember the joy. I remember what’s truly important about life and living.

Knowing the pain, I love all the more. In fact, I yearn to bring more love into my life. I’m not a glutton for punishment. I just know. Love is what lives forever. And it’s the most powerful force in existence.

Sheila and Spartacus Reunited 9/20/21 – 5 days shy of one year exactly; Photo: L.Weikel

(T-67)

Celebrating Freedom – Day 965

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Screenshot of Ring of Fire in Gulf of Mexico – Photo: L. Weikel (video CBS)

Celebrating Freedom

Interesting holiday we Americans (technically, we citizens of the United States) are celebrating this weekend (and particularly tomorrow, July 4th). The birth of our nation; the anniversary of the day we declared our independence from Great Britain. We’re supposed to be celebrating freedom and – perhaps paradoxically – unity.

As we approach our country’s 245th birthday tomorrow, I think it’s fair to say we’re at a crossroads of greater consequence than we were at just eight months ago. Don’t get me wrong – November 3rd (but more accurately, the election of 2020, since all votes weren’t cast on a single day in November) was of enormous consequence. I shudder to think what shape our country would be in had the election not been won by President Biden. (And I base that opinion on the shape we were in and the prospective devastation we were facing had circumstances simply stayed on track with the prior four years.)

But because of the unprecedented and shameless dissemination of propaganda across pretty much every expression of traditional and social media, and the confluence of this manipulation with a toxic combination of fear, hopelessness, cynicism, and despair, we’re a country teetering on the edge of self-destruction.

Last Year

Last year’s 4th of July celebration felt drastically different than any I’d celebrated up to that point. A major reason it felt so vastly different was because my nuclear family didn’t get together with a branch of our extended family, in Connecticut, with whom we’d celebrated the 4th of July holiday for at least 30 years, possibly even more.

The reason, of course, was Covid-19. It was simply too much risk for too little gain when we loved each other enough to sacrifice one year so we’d all have plenty to spend together in the future.

Instead, as I wrote in last year’s post (“New Normal – Day 601”), Karl and I stayed close to home. Lucky for us, M and T live close by and we were able to revel in a fireworks extravaganza that rivaled almost anything I’d ever seen before. (Thanks to several of their neighbors engaging in what almost appeared to be a competition on who could shoot off the biggest and best for the longest amount of time. The by-product of this apparent rivalry was astounding.)

But that sense of a widening gap between the haves and have-nots was palpable. And sadly, in spite of Joe Biden’s victory in November, that gap is rapidly becoming a chasm that could swallow us whole.

Chasm of Fire?

Ever since the election, but especially since the insurrection of January 6th, it’s become harder and harder to bridge the chasm and find any principle or value that moves us deeply enough to find unity. And it feels bitterly ironic to me that this is what our country was founded upon: Unity to protect our diversity.

Now we can’t even unite ourselves to harness our substantial wealth of intelligence, resources, creativity, and determination to stop the imminent destruction of the planet upon which we all live. We are literally left gaping at the image of a virtual Eye of Sauron swirling in the Gulf of Mexico while we distract ourselves from it and power grid failures by vowing to plow more money into building a border wall. Goodness knows we need to keep brown skinned people out of our country while 12 story walls of condominiums crush their inhabitants because (and we all know this is true) it was going to cost too much money to make the necessary repairs.

Every day it feels like our fundamental values are growing further and further apart. I worried last year that we might not even be celebrating “Independence Day” this year. While technically we still are, would any of us have believed we’d be here, right now, with the memory of January 6th seared into our hearts and minds?

Haunting Questions

How many more of those can our 245 year old republic weather? What can we do to rekindle (or kindle in the first place) a true and sincere respect, if not love, for those with whom we share this country and this planet?

Maybe, as many find themselves resuming their old traditions of family gatherings (because Covid-19 is being taken seriously and hopefully they’ve been vaccinated) we’ll be inspired to find answers to these haunting questions and find unity in our diversity.

Storm Before the Rainbow – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-146)

Hope – Day 699

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Hope

What a great day. A day founded upon love and dedicated to hope.

This may be the shortest post I’ve written in 698 days. However, if there has to be a reason for writing an extremely abbreviated post, I guarantee this is one of the very best.

I don’t think there could’ve been one single thing that could’ve gone better today.

Looking at this photo, and the twinkle in their eyes, how could we not feel hope for the future?

Stand By Me – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-412)

Sacrifice – Day 621

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CSA Flowers – Photo: L. Weikel

Sacrifice

So far, I’ve been extraordinarily lucky not to have been asked to sacrifice a great deal as a result of the pandemic.

I’m grateful that no one in my family has been hit with the virus (yet), although I have had a few friends contract it. Thankfully, there have been no hospitalizations (yet).

Part of the ‘luck’ I feel Karl and I are experiencing is a direct result of our ability to aggressively keep to ourselves. Both of us are able to continue our work from home. Yes, even my work – which I suppose might be an interesting blog post in itself.

A key to a lot of that aggressive isolation is continuing the protocols we began back in March, even though our state began ‘opening up,’ albeit carefully, a few weeks ago.

Discovering What’s Necessary

Karl and I discovered in those early months of the pandemic that we really don’t need to run around anywhere near as much as we used to. Indeed, we’ve begun admitting to ourselves and each other that a not insubstantial portion of our hopping in the car was related to procrastination.

Needless to say, we’ve both stealthily acquired and honed a few new procrastination techniques – but I can confidently assure you, they do not involve our cars. So that’s a win/win in my book.

We’ve also realized just how little we actually need of anything other than food. And books. Of course, how could I forget books.

A Revelation

So it was a revelation to me today to witness just how thrown I was by my decision not to travel to Connecticut to participate in my eldest sister’s 80th birthday.

Damn. 80. That just doesn’t seem possible. If you were to meet her, you’d never think she was 80. She still works, even, twice a week, in a museum gift shop. And I’m grateful she can do that – I have no doubt it keeps her sharp and provides for essential human contact which keeps her young at heart, in mind and spirit.

Which leads me to my feeling of having sacrificed today in a meaningful way. It’s not been a sacrifice for me to ‘hard quarantine.’ It’s been annoying at times, and inconvenient. But having to actively say ‘no’ to myself and restrain myself from jumping in the car and heading north to Connecticut to celebrate Jane’s huge milestone was huge for me. And weighed heavily on my heart.

A Strategy

Indeed, I scheduled a session with a client for this afternoon precisely because I knew I’d be tempted at the last minute to ‘be there’ for her – and to see her kids, my nieces and nephews. But I knew I wouldn’t cancel with a client; that’s sacred. And I felt the wisdom of the foresight of that strategy, believe me. Instead of licking my wounds and second-guessing myself, or worse – feeling sorry for myself – I focused on the needs of my client.

Another win/win.

Saying ‘no’ to myself and refusing to allow myself to go to Jane’s party felt like a true sacrifice. I did it, though, because I want Jane to live to see more birthdays in her 80s (and beyond, Goddess willing). And since who knows whether Karl and I might be asymptomatic carriers, I could not and would not risk attending. And that goes for my nieces and nephews and their kids.

I want our family’s clean record to remain unbroken. And for that, I was willing to sacrifice.

Love you, Jane. Happy birthday!

Photo: L. Weikel

(T-490)

40 – Day 594

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Wedding Party – Photo: Mr. Willner

40

40. There’s a number that takes me by surprise. It seems like only a couple years ago, Karl and I were asking my parents if we could get married on their 40th wedding anniversary. I already knew I was going to wear my mother’s wedding dress, so wouldn’t it just be even more of a cool tribute to them – and us – if we celebrated exactly on their day?

It made perfect sense to us. The only hitch was that Mommy and Daddy’s anniversary was in October and I wouldn’t be graduating from college until the following May. Seven months away.

Turned out my father wasn’t too keen on that idea, so it didn’t happen. We waited. I graduated from college in May and we got married in June. Ah, young love.

Family

I’m the youngest of my siblings, and they were all married while I was growing up. I’d been in each of their weddings, graduating to a new level in each one: flower girl, junior bridesmaid, bridesmaid and, well, bridesmaid again. (I never was anyone’s maid of honor – although I was my maid of honor’s matron of honor three months after my own wedding. I’d say that counted double.)

I’d grown up adoring my siblings – and their partners – and I could not imagine having to choose one over the other. I loved my sisters and brother so much that I wanted all of them to be in my wedding as I’d been in theirs. And I wanted Karl’s sisters to be included as well.

But I also had my non-blood family. My friends. My maid of honor and I had been friends since we were about 8 years old. The others had become dear to me in college. I didn’t want to pick from among them, either – but I nevertheless had to pick and choose (to make it an even number) and ultimately had to leave a few out. That never sat right, but I had to do it, and we remained close anyway. Another plank in our foundation.

My point here is that a quick look at our wedding party and anyone can see why our marriage has lasted as long as it did.

We started out with an amazing foundation of love and support. Love from blood and love from heart. They’ve all played a part in holding us together through the toughest of tough times and the most joyful of others.

Family – Friends – Each Other

What could be better than marrying my best friend and creating a family with him over the past 40 years?

On the day pictured above, I now had both friend and family all rolled up into one endearing, frustrating, soulful, thoughtful, loving, maddening, charming, funny (OK, nope; that’s a bridge too far) person. Did I mention gorgeous? Yeah, that too.

I love you, Karl.

(T-517)

Random Encounters – Day 426

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Random Encounters

I’m sitting here on my couch trying really hard to come up with a topic tonight and I have to admit – I’m coming up blank.

I actually had a really fun evening catching up with a family that’s been a part of my world (and I a part of theirs, I guess) for something like 23 years. And you know…it’s because one member of this family’s daughter went to the same preschool as my youngest son. A random encounter that resulted in a lasting friendship.

Deep Run Friendship

The heading I chose for this portion of my post has a double meaning that makes me smile. The preschool that our kids attended was Deep Run Presbyterian Preschool, a sweet little school run out of the lower level of – you guessed it – the Deep Run Presbyterian Church.

But of course the reason the heading makes me smile is because the friendship struck up between Janet and me is actually the epitome of a Deep Run friendship. That’s because we’ve been through a lot of thick and thin in both our lives, since that fateful day when our adorable little three year olds shared story-time and the sliding board.

We’ve each endured some of the most painful losses in life with the other reliably, lovingly, at our side. And there have been so many more sweet, celebratory moments we’ve shared, allowing our Deep Run friendship to flow not only through our lives but also the lives of our extended families.

Deep Run Family

It’s cliché to say that you can’t pick your family but you can pick your friends. The fact is, Janet and I picked each other and in many ways, over the past 23 years, our friendship has created family. And its ‘family’ that runs deep.

Tonight one of Janet’s sisters celebrated her 60thbirthday and Karl and I were invited to join in the surprise. I’d write more, but the party went long and late, and I have to admit, I’m struggling to stay awake.

But I wanted to pay tribute to the amazing ways our lives have of threading into and around the lives of others. How choosing a random preschool can result in a friendship that extends throughout a lifetime – and weaves even deeper when the friends, and their family, become our family.

Happy birthday, Carol! (Oooh! Maybe one sister Carol should receive the other sister Carol’s famous Chocolate Cake.) Here you go!

Photo: L. Weikel

(T-685)

Peeps – Day 412

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Bright and Shining Moments (Wm Penn Inn) – Photo: L. Weikel

Peeps

There are just some people in the world whom you consider your ‘peeps’ and there are others you don’t. It doesn’t really mean anything, other than you’ve found your tribe.

There are, if you’re lucky, a lot of people you feel close enough to who can always (or could) cushion your fall. But there are the precious few who are always there. Just…always. No matter how many blood relatives you or they have. No matter how many months have gone by without an opportunity to sit down and have a really good, long chat. Without them having any idea what you may have been encountering in your life (and concomitantly, you having no idea what they’ve been encountering in theirs, either)…you just pick up.

Precious

Those are the precious ones.

Of course, I’m not dissing the others. Not by any means. It’s just that the ones I’m describing are in a category all their own. And the cool thing is, they can come from other subsets: meaning, they can actually be members of their own alpha pack, and yet be so genuine and so real that their energies transcend the other connections to forge meaningful bonds of their own. They can even be members of your bloodline – which is, in my estimation, a most extraordinary home run or stroke of luck on everyone’s part.

I’m probably blathering, and you are mostly wondering what in the world I’m talking about, because – key question weighing most heavily on all our minds is (if we’re honest) – what does this have to do with kiffels?

And did I discover the secret recipe for the nut confection that goes into the aforementioned kiffels?!

I think I may have hit pay dirt in that arena, but I have to wait until tomorrow to test out my theory In the meantime, and while this may indeed be a precious discovery, it is the celebration of friendship that I wanted to highlight.

But you know what? I’m reaching that point of sleepy appreciation that makes words sometimes sound like puffy clouds instead of the stalwart descriptors of some of the most important aspects of our lives.

Burdens

For whatever reason, as I sit here in the semi darkness, I’m realizing more acutely in the moment how friends are truly ‘sharers of burdens.’ That’s a rather cumbersome title, but it’s true. A true friend does really and truly share our burdens and – not to be cliché but, darn, it does sound it – double our joys.

Yes, I’m waxing rhapsodic over friendship this evening. It’s because in the last several hours, days, weeks, and months, I’ve found myself experiencing such profound levels of love and friendship that those relationships demand recognition. They demand to be honored. And they demand to be appreciated for the unique lessons, joys, realizations, and astonishing insights they can bring us – if we just pay attention and listen.

I am being vague – and I both mean to be and wish I weren’t.

The truth is, I need to go to bed. I need to dream into being the recipe for nut filling in kiffels. And if I do, perhaps I’ll share them with those true friends I mentioned above. Then again, I may be a total undisciplined kiffel hoarder.

No promises. I must sleep.  That said…let this be a short but sincere homage to true friendship. I’m so grateful to experience it! And I wish it for each and every one of us. Because that’s what life is all about: Relationships. Love. Friendships. Kiffels.

And perhaps most important of all: a sense of humor.

(T-699)