A little salt water with Silent Night…

Posted by random olio

Why, oh, why does hearing a good rendition of Silent Night make me cry? I am not one to cry too often. Yes, sometimes a television show or a movie will bring tears to my eyes, sometimes music does too. It is rare though. It is usually when the emotion felt moves me or gives me goose bumps, and the water flows to my eyes.

The emotion I feel is often the memories that fill my thoughts. Even as I write this the salt water is filling my eyes. I think of many Christmas Eve nights when we would go to a local church as a family. When I say as a family, it means my father joined us. Christmas Eve was really the only time of year we all went to church together. It was not our regular church, just one that we knew had a Christmas Eve service. It was a different type of evening. We got dressed up and my father was at his best. He loved Christmas. It brought out the best in him. The Christmas music, the lights, the tree and decorations. Lastly, the Santas. He had a thing for different types of Santa decorations (and I have to say some of them freaked me out). Maybe a better term for some of them was Father Christmas.

I never liked Santa…

In any case, whenever, we would sing Silent Night during the Christmas Eve service I would look up and there would be tears in my dad’s eyes. I never felt brave enough to ask him what his tears meant to him, but somehow I have inherited this same trait from him. For some reason, Silent Night reminds me of the Christmas Eve service, writing my letter to Santa, leaving him cookies and egg nog, and knowing that my dad would be writing a note back to me. It was part of the story, part of our tradition, it made life feel more normal. Even if we did not often have many gifts under the tree (one year I remember getting only a picture frame), somehow the service, letter, and egg nog/cookies made it all feel more normal.

Why is it that the holiday music we only hear for a few weeks a year pulls such strings in our hearts, and unravels memories that go so deep? Is there holiday music that brings the wave of salt water to your eyes?

Oh, and that picture above, it is one of a few. I guess Santa freaked me out.

The sound of her voice…

Posted by random olio

A few weeks ago, I finished reading “Tiny Beautiful Things” by Cheryl Strayed. She is the author that wrote “Wild” which is about her experience hiking the Pacific Crest Trail. “Tiny Beautiful Things” is a compilation of many “Dear Sugar” advice columns from The Rumpus. At times these columns tore me apart. Like this excerpt from one of her columns:

“It will never be okay, and yet there we were, the two of us more than okay, both of us happier and luckier than anyone has a right to be. You could describe either one of us as ‘joy on wheels,’ though there isn’t one good thing that has happened to either of us that we haven’t experienced through the lens of our grief. I’m not talking about weeping and wailing every day (though sometimes we both did that). I’m talking about what goes on inside, the words unspoken, the shaky quake at the body’s core. There was no mother at our college graduations. There was no mother at our weddings. There was no mother when we sold our first books. There was no mother when our children were born. There was no mother, ever, at any turn for either one of us in our entire adult lives and there never will be.” Page 98

One of the few photos I have of just my parents…

Tears in my eyes. Reminders of the many events and milestones in my own life that I experienced motherless and fatherless. No parents at my college graduation. Or my wedding. I have yet to sell a book, or have a child, but if I ever do, my mom and dad will not be present. Yes, you can tell me they are there in spirit. That will be true, but it does not replace the feeling and the wonder of what it would be like to see their face, to have them hold me, or to tell me they are proud of me. Nothing can replace that. You might also say to me, but how do you know if you would still be close to them? How do you know if your relationship would exist in a way that you would want them there? I would tell you I cannot answer that. I do not know. So instead I have the anticipation of what it would be like. It is like having a dream that you have over and over again, but you always wake up at the same time. So you never really know what happens. You never get to that place in the dream.

Strayed lost her mother at a young age, and after losing her mother, her stepfather (who basically raised her) stopped all contact with her. In a different column Strayed shared a poignant reminder for me:

“I haven’t had parents as an adult. I’ve lived so long without them and yet I carry them with me everyday. They are like two empty bowls I’ve had to repeatedly fill on my own.” Page 307

This is how I have often felt. My mom has been gone for more years than I ever spent with her. It has been 18 years. She died when I was 16. While she will always be a part of my life, there are days when I struggle to remember what she looked and smelled like. The hardest part is that I can barely remember the sound of her voice.

Safety. Horror. Why?

Posted by random olio

Last week I came across this article about bringing guns to work. I found it after the Clackamas Town Center mall shootings. I was shocked that this is even a conversation, or that it is even legal in some states to bring a gun to work. I do not even want to think about my co-workers bringing a gun to work.

Guns at work adds to the already full social commentary about gun laws and mental health. The events of last week have brought us all to reflect on our lives, appreciate our loved ones, and pray for the families affected by these tragedies. My heart and tears go out to those that have been affected by the shootings in Oregon and Connecticut. Horror. Safety. Why? All three of these words come to my mind. Many individuals are asking why this happened, and what needs to change in our country. I am asking myself the same questions. What needs to shift?

Besides understanding the facts, many are talking about what needs to be done with gun laws and mental health issues in our country. Both issues need to be discussed. We also need to address the fear of safety from the public. What does a shooting in a mall, movie theater, and an elementary school do to the fear and comfort level for many families across America. Is it immobilizing them or are they able to continue to live their lives? What effects do these events have on the general trust among strangers? Will we all begin to start looking at each other different?

I do not have any answers. Only questions right now. What I do know is like with many of the natural disasters that have hit around the world in the recent months and years, that this is a time to come together. To work together in our communities and try to find answers to our questions. To not move on as though this was all okay. It is not okay.

Articles I have found interesting from the online conversation:

‘I Am Adam Lanza’s Mother’: A Mom’s Perspective On The Mental Illness Conversation In America – Huffington Post

Guns-to-Work Laws Spread in U.S. as Business Fights NRA – Bloomberg

A little early Christmas Spirit

Posted by random olio

Some days I feel older than others. Today is one of those days. I feel old, yet inspired. A woman that I have a lot of respect for, and was a friend and writing teacher of mine in college, had a boy. Then she had a girl. I have never met the girl, but I grew fond of her little boy after taking care of him at the day care I worked in at college. My good friend, Whit, and I would often babysit for him many nights. We would make him dinner, play, put him into his jammies, read stories, and tuck him into bed, then on to our homework.

What I remember fondly about those times in college was that these kids we took care of in day care or that we babysat for were in many ways a family to us. We grew to love them and their parents. Their parents were role models in many ways, as we watched them be parents, professors, and husbands or wives. Alden was his name. I have never met his sister, but I can tell that she has the same precious upbringing that I watched her brother have in his early years. Whit and I have many stories about Alden. He was precious. I remember he could not yet say motorcycle, and instead would say bikel bikel. He would also say: “I am living in a van, down by the r i v e r.” Ah, what smiles and laughter we had with Alden and his parents.

Fast forward to 2012. Alden is now 14. I told you I felt old. I apologize Alden if I have shared too much about what I remember about your first few years. I could not help myself. I am telling you about Alden because he has grown into such a talented young man (yes, Alden, I know I hated when folks called me that when I was younger, but remember I am old now). Alden has produced, mixed, mastered and recorded an album of his sister, Lydia’s vocals. He has also added: Guitar, Bass, Glockenspiel, Xylophone, Ukulele, and Percussion to the album.

You can listen to their new Christmas album here. Alden and Lydia, I am a fan.

Lydia + Alden’s album cover

Games, Linchpin, and no more Candyland

Posted by random olio

I just finished reading “Linchpin” by Seth Godin. There are so many amazing nuggets in this book. I could write a very long blog about all the ideas I gained from this book, but one in particular really has me thinking. I love playing board games. Growing up it was one of the few things I remember we did as a family. We did not go on vacations, to sporting events, movies, etc. So playing board games is what I remember as “family time.” Games were also how I became competitive. As the youngest, I often felt left out. As the baby of the family, I thought that if I learned each and every game, and could even win ones that maybe other members in my family would make sure I was included and got to play. I did not want them to have to hold my hand and help me along. I wanted to play and win on my own merits and skills.

I have never thought anything of the actual games we played or what they were teaching me. When I was younger we played Chutes and Ladders, Candyland, Memory, and eventually moved on to Monopoly, Tripoly, Poker, Parcheesi, Trivial Pursuit, and Yahtzee. I have not played any of these in years. Most recently I have played Cranium, Tripoly, and my favorite is Taboo. I enjoyed the competition, the family time, and the laughter and fun. So when I read this section in “Linchpin” it made me rethink all the games of my past, and quite frankly how I would want to approach games with my family in the future.

“Author Steven Johnson hates the board game Candyland and all board games like it. I hate them even more than he does.

‘I realize that games of pure chance have a long history, but that doesn’t make them any less moronic,’ he writes. He’s how Candyland is played: You pick a card and do what it says. Repeat.

This is early training in agenda following. Indoctrination in obedience. We teach kids that the best way to win is to mindlessly pick cards, follow instructions, and wait for it all to turn out okay.

Sheesh. What a disaster.

My decree: If you own a copy, burn it. Replace it with Cosmic Encounters or chess or a big box filled with wooden blocks. Please don’t look at school or even board games the same way again. If they’re teaching your kids or future employees to be map readers and agenda followers, make them stop.” Page 193

To give you more context, this section in Godin’s book discusses not being a cog that just takes orders and follows direction, but to become someone who creates their own map and paves their own way. I wonder what games help kids to create their own map. I am still processing and thinking about what those games could be. Any ideas?