One Brief Visit......

Our condo provides us with access to nature right outside our windows. We see deer come down the hill to walk up the bike path. We see Lake Michigan change hour by hour. We see sandhill cranes fly over head and geese gather in our harbor and all kinds of gulls and terns dive for dinner. We catch migrating birds like merganser ducks, white pelicans and hummingbirds as they pass through Port Washington. We see all kinds of birds visit the feeders hanging right outside the building. In the six years we’ve lived here we‘ve caught glimpses of great horned owls, red fox, wild turkeys raccoons and blue herons to name a few more.

Walking around Port or looking out our windows presents us with opportunities to enjoy Mother Nature every day. So I don’t know why I was sort of surprised when I walked from our kitchen into the TV room and glanced toward the deck. A visitor!

A beautiful mourning dove perched on our railing. He/she saw me and watched as I moved slowly toward the sliding door. Our little friend stayed and didn’t seem to be too concerned by my presence. 

Such quiet beauty.....on our deck.....

Credit......

These "ramblings" are exactly what my little blog's name proclaims.....Personal Glimpses. Just my personal thoughts on stuff. Usually I think about small moments or memories or share something from a book or conversation with friends. Last night I was away for several hours replaying such a conversation in my brain. Yawn.

We enjoyed an almost weekly zoom game night with friends on the east coast. We've known each other for a long, long time and shared many happy visits, trips and memories. They are very well educated and much more involved in the political process than we are. They live in NH and go to as many of the town meetings that begin a presidential campaign as they can. Years ago our friend said, "I go to as many as I can prepared with a question. If I get the chance to ask it I do. And I figure, if I go to enough of the meetings, at some point I am standing in the room with a future president." (Or something to that effect!) I admire their thought process and involvement in the democratic process. I value their continued friendship.

Last night we ended our visit with just a few political comments....and they are not "Trumpers". But the comment that had me up in the night was my friend saying "You can't blame one person....." as we discussed current events in America.

So maybe I will change the slant a little. I won't blame....I will give credit where credit is due from my point of view. I will credit 45 with choosing people with little or no relevant experience to fill cabinet posts. I will credit 45 with a revolving door of advisors and staff....many of whom leave shaking their heads and later sharing just how dysfunctional the administration was while they tried to "serve". I will credit 45 with leading a disastrous response to the COVID 19 pandemic in our country. I will credit 45 with every sneer, and lie and name-calling episode that he falls back on over and over and over. I will credit 45 with being the least presidential President who has served during my lifetime. I will credit 45 with changing America's standing in the world.....damaging our relationship with other countries. I will credit 45 with fanning the flames of existing racial problems and "helping" to make them even worse. I will give 45 credit for bending the rules and breaking some laws....and appointing unqualified family members to important advisory positions. I will give 45 credit for spending hundreds of thousands of tax-payer dollars on golf games (the ones he said he'd be way too busy to play.) Well....I could go on, but you get my very personal drift.

I believe "the buck stops here" applies to America's President. Is a president personally responsible for every action by every citizen....of course not. But he leads our country and sets the tone. 

So I won't "blame" 45 today.....I give him the credit he deserves.

Again....from a personal perspective.

Good Morning Sunshine

  
A lovely start to an end-of-August morning. After a few days of high temperatures and uncomfortable humidity we slept with our bedroom window open and left the door to our deck open all night. Getting up and walking into our kitchen I was greeted with cool fresh air filling our space.

I started the coffee pot, tied my walking shoes and found Fenway coming down the hall. He stepped into his harness and I grabbed the leash, put on my mask and out we went. It never gets old.....turning toward Lake Michigan in time to have sunrise say hello.

Today we found a golden pathway gleaming right across the water. A good moment. A good start to my Wednesday. Good morning world.

Goodbye.....

I wake up in the morning and for just a second I forget what happened yesterday. And then it's back. Our little family lost someone very dear to us. She kept cancer at bay for over four years......but yesterday afternoon, with beloved family members at her side, she slipped away. And the earth didn't tilt, people didn't stop their activities, pundits kept on pundit-ing, today the sun rose in the east.....life went on.

It always seems a little strange that one family's grief is not shared by everyone. The fact is that basically no one, except our family and her huge circle of friends, even knows that she is gone. I guess that's why grief is such a lonely experience....no one can really share it with you because everyone experiences the loss in their own way. And somehow grief in the time of COVID just seems even more raw. We have to socially distance and even trying to give a loving hug to another family member has to be analyzed and planned.

We met this special woman when her son fell in love with our daughter and they married. So we were "in-laws".....family through marriage. Two families merged and combined....to share the good times and now the sad. 

A few weeks ago, when decisions were made to go home and stop treatment she made a comment to her daughter that keeps floating through my mind. She asked "Did you see the texts from your dad?" This question was met with a little confusion as the man she referred to, her husband, had been dead for a number of years. "No mom, what did they say?" A small smile and then her answer, "I can't tell you, but it was good!" I think back on that quick exchange now and hope that it brings a little comfort to her loved ones. For me it's another "proof" of my belief in heartstrings that connect people even from one dimension to the next. The invisible texts were telling her that he was waiting for her.....and their faith would carry her through to be with him and find something good.

No one is sure yet just how or if we can gather to celebrate her life and say a formal goodbye. Again, the time of COVID makes this all more complex and stressful than it should be. 

But we will each remember her in our own way....and miss her in our own way. 

She leaves a hole in our hearts. 

Goodbye special lady.....goodbye. 

Memories.....

I've always been a reader. I can remember "losing" myself in a book as early as fourth or fifth grade. My parents encouraged reading (mom reading books to me before I could choose my own). And I was somewhat of an introvert with a handful of really close friends, but with much alone time to fill. And so, often, I would fill hours with a good book.

When I was in junior high school and old enough to "babysit" for my younger sister when mom and dad went out I would haunt the "adult" books on the living room book shelves. Peyton Place was a "racy" favorite and I read certain pages over and over again....quickly putting the book back on the shelf when my parents' car turned in the driveway. Even in college, in spite of hours spent cracking the books assigned for a class, I would read for pleasure. As a mother I made time for reading, while the little ones napped, or while dinner was in the oven, or before falling asleep at night.

When we spent two years living on our sailboat I kept a log and counted 267 books as part of the adventure. I would find them at book-exchange shelves at laundromats and marinas along the way, or trade with other sailors we met at anchor.

Now I still use books to fill some of my time, maybe even more of my time during this wierd/sad 2020. A recent library book by a favorite author, Anna Quindlen, came home with me last week. One True Thing was a good read and, sadly, it was very timely for our little family. We are saying goodbye to a loved one and this book details the story of a young career woman who comes home to care for her mother dying of cancer. There were many sentences and paragraphs that hit home and brought a lump to my throat.

But it was one passage, toward the end of the novel, that made me stop to re-read it several times. This is after the mother's death, and the narrator is remembering her. She says "But the truth is I didn't really think she had it in her. And being so wrong about her makes me wonder now how often I am utterly wrong about myself. And how wrong she might have been about her mother, how wrong he (the narrator's father) might have been about his father, how much of family life is a vast web of misunderstandings, a tinted and touched-up family portrait, an accurate representation of fact that leaves out only the essential truth."

This one passage made me think about my own family growing up and my memories. I think about how different my memories are from the ones held by my younger sister. This probably shouldn't be any surprise. An eight year age difference means that I did have a "different" family than she did. I do remember things differently....and maybe a little more clearly. A sixteen year old would have more concrete memories of a particular event than an eight year old.

It doesn't mean that either of us is really "wrong".....or does it? Family life as a vast web of misunderstandings.....it makes me wonder what our two children, a boy and a girl five years apart will remember about me. 

I hope their "tinted and touched-up family portrait", if not accurate, will at least be mostly one they want to look at more than once.

Just My Side......

When we leave the condo without Fenway he runs to his open crate and waits for a treat. He knows we will toss him a cookie before we go....and hide another one somewhere in the condo for him so he can play search and find after we lock the door.

It doesn't matter whether we're out for 20 minutes or several hours, he is a good little guy and we've never come home to any unwanted surprises. But he is also pretty "transparent". We can tell exactly where he's been while we are gone.

This is my side of the bed. Only my side....never Dave's. It's easy to see that Fenway spent some time making himself comfy, arranging all the pillows just the way he wants them. He could choose any of two sofas or a side chair, or his own bed, or anywhere on a carpet. But no....he likes my side.

Maybe because he loves me the best! :-)