Sunday, May 10, 2020

How to ruin big sister’s date night

They were quite the little women, my mother, Nellie, and her four sisters: Lizzie, Beulah, Mabel, and Kathleen. She also had three brothers: Henry, Rex, and Johnny. But today I’m focusing on the little women.

 An Invitation by Andrea Kowch

Mischief makers. Innocent mischief, but mischief nonetheless. Her journal, a childhood memoir now in my possession, is filled with stories of their antics…The time her older sister, Beulah, decided it wasn’t fair her baby doll was bald and Nellie’s had long lustrous hair.

No, not fair at all. And so, Beulah took the liberty of stealing. Locks of love! Cut and paste and voila! Brand new hair for her own baby. Nellie’s shorn jagged. Her beautiful doll ruined for life.

One of her journal entries describes her childhood living room and a memory of one particular evening of innocent mischief:

“Directly in front of the fireplace there was a settee – a long padded bench with arms and back, a primitive sofa with matching brown leather chairs. It was a cozy atmosphere when we sat there in front of the open fireplace and listened to the logs hiss and spit every so often.

With this living room suite came a wooden table with compartments on each end which held our Holy Bible and several books and magazines. On the table sat our kerosene lamp by which we read at night.

I remember one occasion when Lizzie was sixteen, a young man came to visit her. Mama, thinking she was too young to ‘take company,’ made Beulah and me go in and ‘chaperone.’ Beulah walked in with me right behind her, then picked up the Bible, and the two of us took a seat near the young couple, Lizzie and her suitor, Marvin Gaye.

We sat before them the whole time, reading the Bible, but mostly giggling the night away. Lizzie’s beau never returned after that.”

Ha! I guess not. Poor Marvin. Subjected to a night of silly giggling, scripture reading, looks from two young women saying, don’t even think about it.

Happy Mother’s Day, Nellie. Your memory brought a much-needed smile to my face. It’s like you were here, telling the story all over.  

What memory of your mother has made you smile? 

Tuesday, April 28, 2020

My grandmother once gave me a tip:

In difficult times, you move forward in small steps.

Do what you have to do, but little by little.

Don't think about the future, or what may happen tomorrow.

Wash the dishes.

Remove the dust.

Write a letter.

Make a soup.

You see?

You are advancing step by step.

Take a step and stop.

Rest a little.

Praise yourself.

Take another step.

Then another.

You won't notice, but your steps will grow more and more.

And the time will come when you can think about the future without crying.

- Elena  Mikhalkova 

(Image of Tasha Tudor, American Illustrator 1915-2008) 

Thursday, April 9, 2020

We fell asleep in one world, and woke up in another.

Suddenly Disney is out of magic,
Paris is no longer romantic,
New York doesn't stand up anymore,
the Chinese wall is no longer a fortress, and Mecca is empty.

Hugs & kisses suddenly become weapons,
and not visiting parents & friends becomes an act of love.
Suddenly you realize that power, beauty & money are worthless, 
and can't get you the oxygen you're fighting for. 

The world continues its life and it is beautiful. 
It only puts humans in cages. I think it's sending us a message:

"You are not necessary. The air, earth, water and sky without you are fine. 
When you come back, remember that you are my guests. Not my masters."

~ Francesca Melandri

Tuesday, February 18, 2020

O my Soul…

Where do you want to go now?
I have sprung you
From my old musty rooms
Of graven idols
Of mildewed missals
Of cold crying walls
My self-styled temples
Of robotic creeds and
Unfinished levitations.
The sparrow has sung
Itself hoarse
The smell of fraud gone
The dust of dogma
Swept by the broom of
Wild revelations
My dying rainbows
Now merry with color!
O my sweet Soul…
Let’s just stay here
There is nothing out there
For inside me sleeps
A hundred Universes
Suns and Stars and Saints
Attended only by the Breath
Of the Breath of GOD.
~ Maya Teague

Maya is a mystically inclined mom, besotted with the Beloved, divorced from the material world, on a quest to find her Highest Self.

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...