Ta Da Ta Da Da

Beethoven’s symphonies. Yes, I was never a fan of classical music but there is one musical arrangement with the musicians belting it out of their instruments and the conductor almost flying with his arms moving ever so rapidly at the flow. It went Ta Da T Da Da, Da Ta Da Da Da—

However, in my mind, the symbols and musical instruments are drowned out by the clanging of dishes.

Yes, early morning sounds of what I so lovingly refer to as  “the dish symphony. ”

Our mom was the conductor, and she would ever so loudly play it as we attempted to sleep in past the time she felt was the time to wake up.

Yep, I remember thinking it was not a school day, turning over in my ever so comfy bed, and the Beethoven imposter came out to whip up a symphony for all to hear.

Dishes being put away, cling clang… silverware- not that was like the not so balanced sound of the symbols and bells.

I would drag my ever so tired body downstairs and silence as she turned and said with her ever so sweet grin,  “Oh good morning”

I am brought to this because every morning that I get up first I may put the dishes away. I think if anyone filmed me it would look like slow motion – like my batteries were low… as I slowly, gently lay a dish on top of another.

Today, as I carefully got my coffee, fed the dog and let her out, worked on some dishes, once again the symphony played loudly  as it came pouring out of my memory bank, and as I tried to make as little noise as possible, my mom’s face appeared from the vault of memories that are mine forever, and she said “Oh good morning”

It is funny but I realize now, so many years since I last heard Conductor Bette Gaines, that mom did “subtle” things to make a point or ask for something. I think it was her way of asking for some other person to share time with her. She was rarely one to ask directly for anything. Oh, she was the master at innuendos and she would end them with that smirk of hers. I think the morning symphony was one of them I love you mom… and it is so comforting to know that you are all around me, in so many ways.

I extend those wishes to you, and hope you have a great day !

Until Later Mirs Justa, alias Cindy

 

Quality not Quantity

I often find my mind taking me back in time, and remember that through most of the years of my life, it was the times spent with the special men in my life, not the times away from that I remember most. As a very young girl, it was my dad. He was the comfort, the strength, a gift. His job had him away during the week and home on Thurs nights and back out on a short sales run, returning usually Friday nights.

Our time together meant everything to me. I remember his hand holding mine securely, his voice was deep, his love for all of us was unending. I remember his hugs, his laughter.

He used to say I was his princess. I remember how he tried to take time for each of us. and my time I saved in a vault in my mind, in my heart. It brings me comfort in so many ways.

I remember how he was one who would remind me through the years he was alive, that life never promised to be all good, bad things happen, and that somehow the bad turns into good again.

Karen was 10 years older than me, and it is funny in the couple of pictures I have of her with me and dad, she is always looking back at me. I can only imagine I was a chatty little one.

We all remember dad in different ways I am sure. Karen was 10 when I was born, so she already had 10 years of memories before my dad times started.

Pam my next older sister was 1 1/2 yrs older than me. She and I had a lot of fun and not so fun times, just due to age, and I always felt a tad bit of jealousy from her. She too had memories of dad, and dads death took a really bad toll on her. To the point that as an adult woman, every anniversary of his death she would end up in a severe depression. Sometimes to the point of needing an inpatient admission to help her get to the other side.

As I got older, there have been men in my life who also had employment that required they be gone a good percentage of the weeks. I never ever regretted that, I accepted it without any second thought, because the time they were home, was valuable, treasured and never taken for granted. It is not the amount of time spent, it is how we use the time when we have it to spend. To be constantly together, 24/7; I think it becomes an expectation, I think there are moments that would be more special if they were not routine.

During the first 10 years of my life, I remember my mom, however times I remember more vividly are those in which my mom and dad were there. I wonder often how life would have been had he not died when I was 10. Time with dad, it was quality time, the pieces fit together.

As I look back on my own adult life, Mark was away often for his job, just like my dad was. It was how life was. When our own kids were growing up- we tried to spend quality time with them when Mark was home. We would go to some places – often places that did not cost a penny, yet their value priceless. Walks in parks, sitting on docks, camping in our pup tents, later advancing to pop-ups. Playing ball, frisbee, Yahtzee, the list goes on.

And now the times with our grandchildren, the moments are treasured, they are not routine, and we do things with them. It is the special times, times giving of oneself and really focusing on the other person, those are quality times.

AS I am off for a new week, I am going to work on quality and not quantity…

Until later, Mrs Justa alias Cindy

 

Trusting In …..

We live life sometimes feeling like we know exactly the next step. Our alarm clock will go off, we will get up, we brush our teeth, do whatever routine in the morning we do, and move to the next part of our day. However when the alarm clock does not go off, or there is no water pressure, or maybe we fall out of bed instead of getting up the usual way, well it kinda puts our synched life out of order.

We trust everything will go as planned, and yet there are the things that don’t.

It gets even trickier when we take the next step, drive the car, reach for something, heck even getting something from a cupboard. Everything we do we trust will end the same way.

Now we can try to protect ourselves from areas where things can’t go wrong, but we become people in bubbles. Less can go wrong, but things happen.

I was thinking about trust and faith to extend beyond the simpler bullet points of a day. I was reminded in my thoughts of this day, this fall day when this never could have been, had life been kept inside the bubble. I took this at an angle to show the freedom, the joy of the moment. Jeff trusted he would get caught, and he loved the feeling of freedom. The look on his face, the total relaxation of his body, he trusted thigs will be okay, and without that trust, the picture would have been totally different- it might have been a terrified face and fingers clutching so tight to the neck of his dad- like please don’t make me do this. But no– he totally trusted and because of that experienced something way out of the ordinary.

As we get older and heavier, that opportunity – that specific scenario – could not be, or would probably not end in a laugh. However, as we age, inventors have created ways to get that feeling and beyond. I takes a lot more effort from the person achieving the liftoff, however, it needs to be accompanied by trust. Trust that the winds are right, trust your legs are ready for a rather fast run, trust the equipment was not faulty. If however, you have the trust, that sense of freedom can be yours. This person was on an elevated area, beyond the takeoff area was an incredible valley, miles of land colored with the brilliance of fall.

Life has been full of trusting, we trust in relationships, we trust in our day to day activities, our jobs, our everything……and yes we also trust we will be cleaning the bruises- whether inside or outside, and some scars that show the roadmap of my life. I want to always feel that feeling that life is going to be okay, that feeling I get every time I remember that fall day with Jeff. I never ever want to stop trusting that even when things don’t go quite as planned, the trust and faith are so important.

Until later,  Mrs Justa alias Cindy

 

 

Planning Sometimes Is Just That

As we go through life we plan for things. We plan for trips or places to live. We plan for futures, and we plan for retirement.

As I sat in a local diner tonight with my husband, our table was in the center. Around us were other table and booths lined the walls. It seemed to be mostly patrons who were well known, and who seemed to be much older then we are. It felt as if we were in a dinner theater in the round. With the play being skits of people lives. People came in and left, waitresses cleared the tables, kind of like at a play when the light get turned down, the curtain falls, and another scene comes to be.

I felt surrounded by people who probably had made plans for their lives, and probably health reasons and life setbacks, well they changed their plans. As one man had come in with his wife, he was trying to move into the booth, his left side was not coordinated and weak, so as he slid in it was like his right side was pushing the left side in. He said to her, can you believe this is how we ended up, as she tried to help him get situated. Plans can get washed away, or reshaped. We can endure or let them take control of us .

Couples here and there, obviously some with significant health challenges, none who appeared they could be north-south travelers. It made me wonder what does the future look like? No one knows. The best plans can be dissolved in a moments notice. I think we have to accept that just because we plan it to be a certain way, that does not mean it will be. The sun rises and sets, and we have no idea what is next.

As we went to leave, a man was walking out in front of us. He had been joking with the waitresses, he had a nonstressed face, he needed a cane, his stride was not fast, but gingerly. He told us he was 91, he came there every night for dinner, he said he lives alone. He loves to talk with the gals and seems to look forward to coming there. We complimented his outlook on life, and he said he lives life lightly, doesn’t have his head down, he looks up all the time. He did not talk about heartbreak, but I sure he has had some. He displayed a love for what life offers him a minute at a time. Appreciating each sunrise and sunset.

I think that is how we need to be. We can plan, and realize those plans can change in a heartbeat. It is hard enough to plan for the next few days or weeks, let alone the future of life.

Until later, Mrs Justa alias Cindy

 

Another Year In The Rear View Mirror

Today marks yet another year of life. The moments are but footprints, soon to be washed away, yet leaving impressions in our memory banks. A year of hopefully some positive that happened, a year for some filled with one or more life-changing moments, and a year that some may want to run out of as quickly as possible.

I have a friend who married a man that is her soul mate. I mean to the max. The love you see in their eyes when she talks about him- about them- in their interactions captured on photos, it has been a truly blessed year for her.

I have a friend, she is a soulmate friend, we think alike, we just know when the other needs a call, a text, a visit, we say the same things, .. well she and her husband retired. They totally changed their living situation, sold a home, bought a place in Florida and have a permanent park setting on a lake in Upstate New York… Part of her time south, part up here. Oh, they had some major bumps along the journey, but all in all, looking at their smiles and stress-free facial expressions, it has been a good year for them.

Mark’s and my year, whoa, we look in the rearview mirror of that, and it has been full. We started the year with a 6-month mania for Mark, the incredible changes in our lives during that time and the challenges for him to face the 4 1/2 months of climbing out of depression. I experienced changing my department at work in August due to my place of employment being acquired by a very large company and learning oh so many new things. It is a good thing, just a big change. We spent some fun rewarding times with the grandkids and spent some great times with family. We helped Marks mom as she transitioned from an apartment to an Assisted Living Environment. Yes, it has been a year.

I think about life, each breath, each step, each second is like a snowflake. By itself, it may not mean much, but add them together and it creates memories, it creates opportunities. And as quickly as a snowflake can melt, so can the moment be gone. I look back on the year and think of all the things different, of the few more aches that might be there at times, and I wonder what lies ahead.

I long to treasure each moment, to look for the good in everything, and to be the best I can be.  I am thankful for what has been and what is yet to come. I realize that life is full of changes, of hurt and of happiness. I feel blessed that I am aware of the presence of those who have passed on still being here for me in their subtle ways. I feel thankful to have been blessed with my husband, our kids, and our grandkids. I am thankful for my siblings and all the members of our family, my friends, the church I attend and thankful for living my life in the comfort of God.

As I look ahead, I do not know what each day will bring, but each breath I take, each step I make will be with the intent to be the best I can be for that moment.  The saying “moss won’t grow on a rolling stone” will continue to be a reminder to keep moving…  So as I end this year with this post, I wish all have time to reflect, to look ahead. Happy New Year. Until next year, Mrs Justa alias Cindy

 

A memory of Mine

I was listening to music in my mind, it is like I have a jukebox ready to play a song, no one else hears it, so anywhere I am, a melody, lyrics, a place in my past comes to life. This one song seems to come back over and over again.

“Cause who’s gonna know but me
Who’ll help me recall those small memories
When I’m all that’s left of this family of three
Who’s gonna know but me” Kathy Mattea

As it played I had looked up on a shelf, and so quietly sits this little doll. She has quietly sat in places I have been since I was 9 years old.

No one knows or even asks why, and she sits there doing what she has been doing for many many years.

This little braided blond-haired doll was a gift to me. I received it at a very scary time in my life.

When I was 9, I was admitted for simple tonsillectomy. It was in June, I remember the excitement of being able to be through with school early because of my surgery. It was also a time of anxiousness and chaos because we were about to move from Skaneateles to Bayberry, into our very first new house and not a rental.

The hospital had a ward for all the kids getting the surgery. It was little an assembly line that day. When I arrived with mom and dad it was surreal in a way, the kids were all in stages of the procedure day. Some scared and waiting their turn, some sleeping after they had had their surgery, some getting sips of cool drinks, and some- yeah they hit the top and got a little dixie cup of ice cream. Dad saw me looking around at the “unknown what next expressions” and he said in a little while I will be able to drink and get ice cream.

Off to surgery, I remember my trembling on the stretcher from being scare. My mom and dad tried to tuck the blanket (it looked like a large receiving blanket ) and talking so softly to try to help me calm down.

The operating room was huge, and this man put on my face a clear mask, the stuff tasted like something I will never forget, aether. Next thing I know, I am back in the ward. As I became aware of the room and my parents, I also became aware of my sore throat. I felt super sick, and they kept telling me to not throw up. However, there was an emesis basin ready if I did.

And low and behold, I needed it, and the was lots of red blood … the cold drinks and ice cream rewards changed to a rush return to a procedure area because my surgery had torn an area and they had to work to stop the bleeding. It was terrifying, I felt alone,  and the man doing the procedures did not speak English very well, and kept saying to me “one more time” as he held these long cotton covered type rolls and pushed them in the back of my throat using his very large gloved finger. It hurt, it was awful, each gauze roll tasted like crap, I was not supposed to swallow as he did this ( but I did swallow one in the process) After the 6th one more time, that huge finger came into my throat and a clamped my teeth down and literally bit through the latex. He was dancing around and saying ouch… and that was his last “one more time.

They took these swabs and somehow ties them together – one tight against the outside or my nostrils, string thru my nostrils and another was attached at the back of my throat. I was not going home, I had to stay overnight.

When I got back to the ward, dad had this doll sitting on my nightstand. He said she would watch over me when he wasn’t going to be there. See mom was pregnant for Martha, and there were 4 kids at home – 11,6,5,2,.. we were in moving mode, and plans just took a turn because I could not come home.

All night long though, this little doll became my comfort, she watched over me that night and still has, all these years later. She has been everywhere I have lived since I was 9. She has gone through the moments of sadness and joy, the various events of my life. She has been comforting, encouraging, and show patience. But most of all, she represents the love of a parent a love that lives on long after their earthly bodies have not. And not once has she let me down… she always has the angelic look that everything is going to be ok.

I wanted to share her with you.

Until later, Mrs Justa alias Cindy

 

 

 

Interacting and Technology

So as I was making my weekly grocery list on a pad of real paper, with an actual pen, I was thinking- hey I could just go online, and order this all.. and …. nope— STOP…. I am going to continue to go out and shop for groceries. I enjoy seeing others, I enjoy making sure what we are buying is what we intended to buy, …

Well, this got me thinking… I think as the world continues to advance, to become more virtual, we have to remember to have real-life experiences. We need to interact with face to face, real life, and reach out and touch moments.

To see peoples face on face time is a great tool, because people can be in places you can not be, and have a conversation with them. However, doing face time with people that are just a few miles away, well I feel that going outside and seeing them might be the option to take.

We can now go to our computer, cell phone, tablet or probably talk in the air to “Alexa” or “Google” devices, give a list of things we need from the store, and have it delivered to our doorstep, or have someone waiting to load it in our car.

Instead of face to face, touch the items, one can buy virtually anything without going out and seeing it. And God forbid it not be what we expected from the image online we ordered it from. Instead, had we just gone to a local vendor, a store, a warehouse and seen it, felt it, looked it over, well then we know what we are buying.

Now everyone ( including me) can make all the excuses and reasons why this is so great. It keeps me away from germs of others, I do not need to deal with long lines, it gives me more time to fill up my day with a bunch of other stuff. Heck before we know it we have fit what used to be 36 hrs of actions in an 18 hr day.

We do not have to go to a movie- nope we can sit in the comfort of our home and watch the movie, stop it when we want, and put it back on after we pee, or grab a drink, or stretch, AND we can watch it in our jammies. Now I am not saying this is wrong, it does, however, take away the “going out to a move” experience. The smell of the popcorn, the darkness as you sit on seats in rows that are on an inclining floor.

There is nothing that replaces taking a trip to a planetarium. The music, the narrator, the feeling you are in a spaceship in orbit as they show us the universe, the night sky.

To show a child a firefly cupped in your hand, or to show them virtually via a YouTube image– well the magic is definitely in the first option.

 

Playing games, yes real hands-on , touch the pieces, not only hear the voice of your opponent but to see their eyes, to laugh in the same room, that is so much a component of that experience. Oh I know we can get games and our opponent is part of the game, we had this one game where we could choose the country and type of opponent we wanted. A man calling you “Chap” to a down-under voice teasing when they are about to whomp you. It, however, takes away the real socialization.

Virtual convenience is nice, however, we as adults, our kids, our grandkids, our friends, we also need to keep our social skills up, we need to take advantage of the value of being real- in real time… to be able to interact and not feel lost in the world.

We can in balance embrace the various incredible things that are available to us, things to make our life easier… yet we need to be aware of what is important at the end of the day, what is a need, what are we doing as a “cop-out” or because it is just less demanding of our time… and what is a want.

Thoughts to ponder…. Until later, Mrs Justa alias Cindy