Marking Time

               I joined the marching band when I started high school, many, many years ago. I already knew the basics of marching, as both my older brothers were in the group ahead of me and schooled me in the basics.  I don’t recall having a choice in the matter, but probably I agreed readily to learn as younger siblings are apt to do when trying to keep up with their older counterparts.  One of the parts we learned was marking time.  There are many times in the course of a parade or half time performance that the band members must march in place—marking time.  I didn’t think much about it once I graduated and moved on into adulthood, until recently.  During this pandemic I feel as if all I do is mark time, figuratively, and then began to do it physically most days as a way to remain active.

               Stay at home orders and businesses and schools shutting down puts a community into a weird suspended state.  Your “normal” life is put on hold and there you are trying to fill the hours of your days with activities to keep your mind sharp, your body moving, and, if you have family there with you, to keep everyone from getting on each other’s nerves too much. Early in the shutdown the weather wasn’t conducive to being outside much as it was a cold and windy spring.  I took my daughter out for rides nearly every day, just to get out of the house. Once home, it was easiest to fill the time before my husband came home with TV and reading books.  Not much physical activity was happening outside of household chores and occasional bouts of decluttering.  Once nicer weather arrived, I took to walking my daughter, in her wheelchair, up and down the driveway in order to get some activity, followed by relaxing on the patio or deck and reading, in between blowing bubbles and texting with friends and family.  I don’t go to parks out of an abundance of caution because I’m not confident that the virus can’t be transmitted by simply walking past someone, even outside.  Once summer weather got into full swing, it was too hot to walk much so, in order to get that exercise in I began marking time for 10 -20 minutes a day.  I usually do it while my daughter is watching TV, and she looks at me as if I have lost my mind.  Maybe I have, but, I am at least not gaining any weight; although I was hoping to lose some this way.  Perhaps a few less salty snacks and less ice cream would help with that, but I love my little treats too much to give them up entirely!  This marking time takes an emotional toll, and any way I can feel a bit better is worth it to me.

               I’ll continue marking time for the foreseeable future, as will many others.  When all this is finally over, I wonder how much “normal” life will be left? 

The Art of Sitting Still

The sun is out,

The air is hot,

Some like that,

Some do not,

Either way you’ve

Got to deal,

Keep it cool,

Keep it real.

There are people who simply cannot sit still.  They don't just fidget, they must be on the move and get up to do something they forgot about, or just to walk to the door and look outside; sometimes they go outside and walk around the yard or prune the plants.  They feel ill at ease with simply being still, as if it is a waste of time and they are unproductive in life. They never mastered the fine art of sitting still.

You might be wondering what is so special about sitting still. Well, it is something that I do and enjoy it. I like sitting still and contemplating whatever comes to mind. My favorite place to sit is outside. Outdoors I can notice the way the dappled sunlight highlights different parts of the landscape, objects on the ground, and potted plants, for instance. I can watch leaves flutter in the breeze, and watch clouds sail across the sky and birds flit tree to tree or soar on air currents high above that I can't feel on the ground. I can hear birds singing, the slap of someone’s shoes walking down the street, and the tinkling of wind chimes. Sitting still also allows my mind to wander, and give me a break from current worries and things that puzzle me. Quiet contemplation frees my mind to wander memory lane, or make plans for the future. It allows for daydreaming and writing poems in my head that never make it to paper, as fleeting as a wisp of smoke. This summer, being that we are still in our months long quarantine,  I have taken to spending time on lazy afternoons on either the shady patio or sun dappled deck blowing bubbles for Hillary's amusement. I highly recommend this activity even if you don't have someone to amuse for a while. Blowing bubbles causes you to take deep breaths and empty your lungs slowly. Watching the translucent orbs, with their rainbow on one edge, float away or be carried off on the breeze is a relaxing way to spend some time.  You can even imagine the delicate spheres are carrying away your troubled thoughts, or carrying messages to your loved ones in Heaven. That's a lovely thought, isn't it?  It's hard to blow bubbles when you're on the move; it's only possible when you're still.

I recommend trying sitting quietly for a bit some lazy afternoon under the shade of a big tree, sipping iced tea and perhaps blowing bubbles. Then contemplate the clouds sailing across the sky for a bit and listen to the sounds around you.  It can be very refreshing for both your body and mind.

Father's Day Again

Dads

A dad will tell a joke that’s lame,
You will laugh just the same,
He will say that you must hurry,
Then will tell you not to worry,
Sometimes he might curse and grumble,
But when praised will seem humble,
He will watch his children grow,
With love and pride he may not show.

Well here we are at Father's Day again. The years go by so quickly that it feels like we just celebrated this day not too long ago, but, obviously it's been a whole year.  This year, as in most previous years, we spent the day quietly and just with the four of us. Not just because of the pandemic, but that's who we are. We are low key and content to spend a lazy afternoon in our air conditioning since it was a hot & humid day. It was at least sunny so I could use the grill to cook dinner. It was requested that I cook a T-bone steak and some foil pouch potatoes on the grill. I added shrimp cocktail, asparagus and sautéed mushrooms to the menu, with mixed berries and whipped cream for dessert.  It was all delicious!

While I was out cooking on the deck I could hear what some of the neighbors were doing to celebrate. It was so nice to hear kids laughing and squealing with delight, and some were splashing & playing in a pool with their dads. One neighbor, who has no small children and is divorced was talking on the phone while watering new grass in her yard. Perhaps she was talking to her father, I like to think so but I don't know.  Still another began mowing his lawn after dinner while his children played together, the little girl dancing around in a princess dress. It was a really pleasant day, and quite relaxing.

Fathers. They're all different, yet some things are the same--lame "Dad" jokes, reassuring, sometimes cranky, awkward and humble when praised, and loving under a somewhat gruff exterior. Those of us blessed with good fathers are grateful beyond measure.

Comfort

Hello June!

               

Farewell, May!

You were weird,

We are halfway

Through this year,

We’ve been challenged,

Things are rough,

To get through it all,

We must be tough.

     As I folded some laundry today I thought about how my mother used to come to my house and fold the laundry when my girls were babies. It was such a big help to me, and I still am thankful when either my daughter or husband fold whatever's in the basket waiting to be dealt with. It's always the little things that bring to mind a loved one who is no longer here.

     Little, mundane, seemingly unimportant things are what jogs my memory of my parents. They are present always in my everyday life. Using a certain paring knife in the kitchen, the sound of a lawnmower, or the smell of coffee brewing are common occurrences that start me thinking of my parents. I think I remember those things more than any big events like birthdays or graduations. It was the stability of those common objects, sounds, and smells that made for a happy, safe childhood. My parents were there, every day, no matter what else was happening in life. It's what makes home such a haven for most people. If you're having a bad day, you know that when at last you step across the threshold there will be a place for you that are familiar, welcoming, and comfortable. You will be calmed by the familiar sound of the refrigerator's hum mixed with the radio playing, perhaps the lingering smell of the morning's coffee intertwined with the scent of soap and a favorite candle, or the sight of the sun slanting through the window highlighting your favorite seat and cozy throw. The things we don't really think much about are the background of our lives; subconsciously keeping us centered and able to cope with things life throws our way in an average day. It's one of the greatest gifts we get from our past, if we have had any sort of stability in our childhood and youth. It helps us meet challenges head on and have some resilience and toughness when things start to wear us down.

      Of course, in our current tumultuous world, any bit of comfort and stability are even more important. To be able to look forward to the familiar at the end of a long day is one of the greatest sources of comfort I know. Comfort and stability will continue to be important in the months, and years to come.

Holiday?

            This is a holiday weekend.  I know this because they were talking about it on the news and offering suggestions for things to do.  It doesn’t “feel” like a holiday to me, but then the last few haven’t felt like they were holidays either.  Holidays should feel special, with different food, fun activities, and visiting with people we don’t see often.  Warm weather holidays generally lend themselves to larger pot luck gatherings with extended family. 

            When I was growing up, and even when my kids were small, the summer holidays were spent usually at my parents’ house with my siblings and their spouses (I was the first to have children), and usually at least one of my aunts.  Mom’s potato and macaroni salads were always on the menu, as well as ‘burgers and dogs’ on the grill, an assortment of vegetable sticks, cheese and crackers, potato chips, and watermelon.  Sometimes sweet corn and cookies or cake were served as well. She always made her own lemonade and iced tea served out of large thermos jugs, too. When we had the big picnic on Labor Day, there were one aunt’s ‘famous’ baked beans, another ones cucumber salad, still another ones fresh garden tomatoes (which she sliced in her hand while talking to her sisters, without ever once cutting her hand), and someone always brought deviled eggs.  They were special days filled with the conversations and laughs you hear whenever relatives who enjoy each other’s company gather after being separated for months. I love those memories, and the pictures we used to take to remember the day by.  Now we don’t have so many relatives, and usually it’s just the 4 of us hanging out, having a day off of work.  I try to make the food special, but the day just doesn’t hold much of anything different from any other weekend day.  It’s a little sad but we’re all so tired from the hectic pace of our weekdays that we just want to spend the day relaxing.  Sometimes we do get together with our siblings, but definitely not this year what with the pandemic and all the restrictions on group gatherings.  Maybe next year we can try to make things a little more special.

            I hope that for you, the holiday is as special as you want it to be.  If what you really want is just a day to relax, I hope you get that; if you want to do something special, I hope you get to do that, too.  As for me, I’ll be hanging out in the back yard, possibly playing “Yahtzee!” or “Scrabble”, eating snacks and feasting on burgers and dogs.  Maybe I’ll make some of that potato salad and macaroni salad too.