quick travelogue

saturday evening i flew into long beach and rented a car. i drove to la mirada, where candace and ben made a beautiful dinner. that night i stayed at chez de ma souer (sisters house, in fullerton) on the most comfortable couch. in the morning family arrived and we started a caravan out to the desert.

in yucca valley we shared laughter and tears and hugs. we sang “row row row your boat”” in a round for thom (something solemn we all could do, and theresa laughed at the appropriateness.) “life is but a dream”. we took turns gentle taking my brothers ashes around to the bases of his beloved trees. we all slipped some of the beautiful pistachios (still in their squishy rose pods) in our pockets for remembering.

after a long table lunch at one of my brothers favorite restaurants, we parted ways.

94 year old auntie and my just-older-brother and i drove through the evening and night to Las Vegas. arrived at the casino near my sisters house. we got settled and then met my sister and our long time friend fred downstairs at the starbucks.

the next day we got to spend with wendy, viewing her aquariums at home, looking at old pictures, out and about on errands. spent the evening with she and fred. amazing food and long sisterly talks.

i love how auntie is getting to be part of the gang, and the thoughts and stories that emerge when she is feeling relaxed.

yesterday she and vince and i drove a long time to head into idaho, with frequent stops along the way for snacks, blood sugar checks, pictures of rocks. we arrived in twin falls late, and watched a very loud cop drama on tv (aunties favorite). i fell asleep before they caught the bad guy.

we have had a lazy morning. auntie making use of the ADA accessible amenities and coffee. today we head to boise to visit uncle tony. we have a supply of various jellies and sweeteners, ketchup and salsa packets nabbed along the way. (resourceful auntie).

 

favorites – my sense of scents

magnolia-reactivates ancient magic, wisdom, power. helps with issues related to independence and personal power.    

poppy-communion with the infinite, calming, making peace with mortality, spiritual wisdom, relaxation

orange blossom – heavenly assistance, happy home, trust

calla lilly- gentle death transition, comfort, alignment of crown chakra

jasmine-abundance, joy, sensuality

rose-emotional healing, friendship, blessings, love

bleeding heart – emotional availability to self and others, working with pain as creative process

lilac-romance, doorway between the worlds, intuition

iris – inner truth, creativity. mother Mary, purifying and protective

nourishment in minneapolis

daughter’s friend jenna had picked her up from the airport as i drove in from fargo. they called me from the grocery store. dinner would be at her friend’s parents’ home. her parents had invited us to stay the two nights we were in town. i had met her mom, marcy, once five years before, when the girls were coworkers in the northwest.

they live close to downtown, in a walkable neighborhood of larger older homes and shops. they own and run a small children’s shoe shop, a few blocks from one of the lakes.

when i arrived cooking was in full swing. their house was full of sentimental photos and eclectic art and pottery. much of their art was in trade with fellow merchants and friends. rich’s dad had painted the thickly brightly layered acrylic impressionist painting of jerusalum which was a gorgeous focal point on the livingroom wall.

standing around the counter between the kitchen and the family room, i shared my experiences of travel so far. and daughter filled me in on the fundraising gala she had helped to support as a board member, the night before. (attended by her younger sister and some friends). marcy talked of preparation for a friend’s sukkot ceremony.

marcy, rich and jenna were bustling about the kitchen, and wouldn’t let us help. we did our part by enjoying the cheeses, and crackers and olives on the counter. marcy was slicing lots of apples. jenna was looking up the recipe for the gallette topping in the big cookbook.

when it was time to eat we sat at the round table in the diningroom. there was a salad of mesclun lettuce with a variety of colors of roasted beets, and goat cheese, with a homemade dressing, warmed bread and butter, roasted cauliflower with curry seasonings, rice and grilled salmon. white wines. all enjoyed leisurely, with conversation that welcomed all of us to tell our current story. for a few of us, the current story isn’t easy. times of transition and anxiety could be openly spoken about. travel and food and grandchildren and graduate school and relationships.

we had talked about going out later but dinner was lingering in a wonderful way. none of us anxious to leave the table. the gallette and ice cream eventually found its way to the table, with decaffinated coffee. still we lingered talking,

—

the next day daughter and i walked by the lake and in the neighborhood. later jenna and marcy joined us for our first trip to one of the laura ingalls wilder homesites. i hadn’t known that pepin was so close. both marcy and jenna had work to do but satellite technology enabled them to ride along, doing their work in the car. we compared book club reads. we stopped at a small antique shop, where the owner spent time in his workroom in the back, carving rocking horses. we looked in the little wayside cabin. the (now sparse) big woods. the lake where my literary heroine tore the pocket of her dress when collecting too many pretty pebbles

—

when we got back to town, daughter and i were on our own for dinner, with various recommendations from our hosts. marcy suggested eating at the bar of a popular restaurant downtown (at which tables are rarely available without reservation). daughter and i picked a few small plates. cauliflower fritters, homemade noodles and meatballs. rosemary green olives. listening in to the conversations around us. we shared the beautiful barely sweet tres leches cake.

when we got back to the house daughter and jenna went out to a coffeehouse for studying and visiting. i watched “the voice” with marcy and rich. white wine, cookies and chocolate. sitting in the comfortable chair in the family room, marcy working and watching tv on the couch. rich (who rarely seems to sit down) puttering in the kitchen, and returning to the family room whenever it was time to scroll through the commercials.

—

in the morning marcy and rich made french toast with the leftover baguettes. fruit and yogurt for the top. and gave us an oral guide of how to get to whole foods, to pick up our road trip groceries. i was so overwhelmed by their kindness and company. being themselves. and giving us welcome room to be ourselves.

how laura ingalls wilder is bad for you

“all’s well that ends well” “least said soonest mended” “no use crying over spilled milk” “grin and bear it” “keep a stiff upper lip”

before there were little counseling centers on the prairie, people had to just marshal their strength and persevere. using these adages to guide them. my literary heroine did write about her feelings, but usually couched in shame and self control. (for example there were all kinds of passages like “laura felt her eyes stinging, and her stomach clenching, but she was too old to cry, and felt ashamed..etc”)

people in my life who love me have always challenged me to be more authentic. they seldom get to hear my feelings of frustration, disappointment, anger, hopelessness. it’s not that i’m hiding these things, or silently brooding. it’s just that it takes me awhile to even identify the uncomfortable feelings. there were times growing up when it was just safer not to feel or express these things, and i didn’t gain the skills. i also know the spirit crushing feeling of someone’s frustration, anger and hopelessness being expressed willy nilly. i never want to do that to others.

i am striving for the middle way. where all of the feelings get a gentle hearing. the prairie family’s emotional self control helped me when i was young, but can be bad for me now.

on our trip, daughter and i opened a vulnerable conversation. about how the joys we are experiencing these days have their shadow side.

because we both think about when i’m not here. and who else is not here.

for a family in grief, there is always that decision to open your heart and share the pain in each joyous moment. and to reveal the quirky things that bring laughter in the midst of tears.

lately i’ve been in touch with how mortal and vulnerable we ALL are, and i feel like i somehow get the luxury to make the most of this human condition. i think of john, who had no idea his life would be so short. i think of dawn and my brother thom and cancer group friends who had so little time once they learned of their diagnosis. i have time and resources to enjoy the people and things that i love.

it’s something i wish all could have.

at the same time i feel a thousand heartbreaks, over things i will probably not be here for.

i remember my friend’s husband saying to me (after their intense romance and her death) that he didn’t know if he was the luckiest or unluckiest person in the world. to experience such a love, and such loss at the same time.

all’s not always well, and doesn’t always end well. i think the heart is soonest mended when there is room to say the most. . i believe in crying over spilled milk and neglected goals and unfair illness and death.  your eyes stinging and your upper lip sagging and your stomach clenching and knowing you are never too old to FEEL all the feelings of this strange and mysterious existence. standing proud of your bewildered and resilient heart. grinning when it is natural. not bearing it but fully living it.

a welcoming congregation

My cousin grooms crossed the border into Minnesota for their legal civil marriage. But then came back to their faith community in North Dakota, for their wedding of the heart.

They attend the http://americannationalcatholicchurch.org/faq, a Catholic church which honors the teachings of Rome, and its own national conscience when it comes to matters of inclusiveness (in both priesthood and congregation).

I could feel the pride of their small faith community. This was the first same sex wedding that was officiated at the church. Many attended to honor my cousin grooms, who serve the parish in a variety of ways. My cousin (by blood) is Jewish, with Christian roots. He sometimes shares the homily, when their priest is unavailable, mixing his knowledge of scripture from a deep Judaic understanding of the Torah, and his journey to understand the historical and divine person of Jesus. My cousin (by marriage) serves as sacristan, ensuring that the service runs smoothly.

I was touched to learn that my new cousin’s extended family, devout cradle Catholics, also attend this church. They like to worship in a church which honors their son’s character as a spiritual gay man, a family man. And honors the love he has for his husband.

The congregation reminded me of the Newman center for the Pomona colleges, which I attended quite a bit with John and his family. Feeling informal, relevant and personal. Children finding ways to join in the celebration in official and unofficial ways. The focus on social justice and attending to the needy in their town, and in the pews next to them.

Before leaving on the rest of my road trip, I joined them again for church on Sunday morning. All were welcome for communion. And afterward, the church became a dining area, for the weekly potluck.  A time to share news and needs, and memories of some of the best polka dancers in the area.