My granddaughter's first birthday party was held yesterday. It was a large gathering of family and friends -- a lovely celebration with good food, adorable children, and high spirits that weren't even dampened by the drenching thunderstorm that pounded the pavilion roof.
I was troubled by a conversation with my son's friends. They were talking about their financial difficulties in these troubled economic times. These are young men and women who work hard to provide for their families, but they are finding it increasingly hard to manage. One couple has a two-year old son and would love to have another child; however, they are currently paying $200/week for day care and cannot afford day care for a second child. They need both incomes to survive, so have decided for now to limit their family to one child.
How sad this is! When we were young, women had a choice; many women chose to stay home with their children. Of course, budgets were tight, but families could choose between comfortable incomes or more simple lives. For today's young families there is no choice. With ridiculously high housing prices, large college loan payments, expensive health insurance premiums, and now, skyrocketing gas and food prices, two incomes are a necessity, and then day care adds significantly to the equation.
It is a sad commentary on our cultural values when CEO's of large corporations make millions of dollars, and hard-working young people struggle to provide for their families. Corporate greed has bankrupted our economy. We have entered a new "Gilded Age".
I hope our citizens will give serious consideration to the economic plans of our presidential candidates. Can our nation's young families survive four more years of status quo Republican policies? I don't think so; these stressed and overburdened young parents deserve an economy which once again rewards hard work and promotes real family values.
Please think carefully before casting your vote this year. In the past eight years of Republican "free market" economy, the oil companies are thriving, and hard-working, honest Americans are losing their homes and declaring bankruptcy. Please vote Democrat and then hold them accountable for rebuilding a better America for our young families!!!!
Sunday, August 3, 2008
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Reunion Weekend
Oh my goodness – look at those men with their silver hair, or no hair. And look at those thick-waisted women with grandmother faces. Do I look like that??!! This was the whisper on the lips of many of us “reunion-goers” as we attended the Friday night event of reunion weekend. What did we really expect – we’ve been out of high school for forty years. Smooth skin, clear eyes and shapely bodies are a distant memory. We look in the mirror each day as we dress, carefully apply makeup and style our hair, but we don’t see the real image. In our hearts we are young and the image before us is gently softened to match the image we carry in our memory.
This stark reality was a shock. However, as we moved through the evening, reminiscing and catching up on each others’ lives, we began to see not the aging faces, but the images of the 17-year olds we knew all those years ago. By the end of the gathering, the surprise had been replaced by the warmth of shared memory, and we looked at the faces through the rosy lens of nostalgia.
This stark reality was a shock. However, as we moved through the evening, reminiscing and catching up on each others’ lives, we began to see not the aging faces, but the images of the 17-year olds we knew all those years ago. By the end of the gathering, the surprise had been replaced by the warmth of shared memory, and we looked at the faces through the rosy lens of nostalgia.
The reunion events were enjoyable; a Saturday afternoon boat ride gave us all an opportunity to relax and catch up on each others' lives. We were served a delectable dinner that evening in the elegant State Room in Albany, and danced the night away to hits from the sixties and seventies.
High school in suburbia in the mid 1960's was a difficult place for a tall, chubby girl with few social graces. It was a place of cliques and snobbery, and I somehow never found my way into a group where I felt a sense of belonging. As I watched so many of the old “groups of friends” having such a terrific time dancing, laughing, and reminiscing, I was reminded of how much I was on the “fringes” as a teenager.
However, those days are long behind us, and I have thoroughly enjoyed the reunions I have attended. As adults we share a sense of comraderie and celebrate our common memories. These special weekends give us a chance to relive the memories and enjoy what we have become. Already there is talk of a 45th reunion, and a periodic newsletter to keep us all in touch.
The weekend was a treat, with its delicious food, music and conversation, and I will look forward with anticipation to the 45th, but my back porch and quiet gardens beckon to me tonight -- my own little piece of heaven.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Ode to a White Pine
People often speak disparagingly of "tree huggers", a term frequently used to describe naturalists or environmentalists. This phrase carries personal meaning for me, because I have long felt a strong love and reverence for nature, especially trees.
Soon I will bid a tearful goodbye to a beloved old white pine tree at the back of my yard. When we moved into our house over thirty-six years ago, I was immediately captivated by a long stand of tall pine trees which form a protective line behind the homes in our neighborhood. I am not sure how old they are, but they most definitely have stood for over a century.
In a recent thunderstorm one of the largest and oldest -- a lovely white pine -- was struck by lightning. Today the tree service came and confirmed what we already feared -- it must come down. Three houses, garages, and several other healthy trees are in the path of destruction if a strong wind blows through.
I know alot of people will not understand why this saddens me so deeply. "It is only a tree," they will say. "You are surrounded by trees." But I look at this majestic tree which is most likely one of the oldest in our neighborhood, and my heart breaks. I can't explain my deep connection to trees. I have lost other trees to storms and disease -- even one I had planted myself -- and have always mourned the losses, but somehow this is worse. I'm certain this tree was here long before our houses were built. It was probably originally planted as part of a hedgerow between farms. It has provided shelter for birds and critters, shade from the sun, and protection from winds, and has watched our families grow up and move on.
And now, its time has come, its season is past, and I will miss it each morning as I gaze from my kitchen window as the sun rises, with its rays filtering through the branches of the pines that remain. There will be an empty space -- its majesty will be gone. Over one hundred years of slow, steady growth will be felled in one day.
It will be quite a procedure to take it down. They are going to need a crane to reach the uppermost branches and safely maneuver them down between the trees, without damaging the garages that lie at its base. I don't think I can watch. I am a bit embarrassed to feel such deep emotion over a tree. So, I will busy myself elsewhere that day and not make my grief public.
But, this "tree-hugger" will always miss our beautiful old tree.
Soon I will bid a tearful goodbye to a beloved old white pine tree at the back of my yard. When we moved into our house over thirty-six years ago, I was immediately captivated by a long stand of tall pine trees which form a protective line behind the homes in our neighborhood. I am not sure how old they are, but they most definitely have stood for over a century.
In a recent thunderstorm one of the largest and oldest -- a lovely white pine -- was struck by lightning. Today the tree service came and confirmed what we already feared -- it must come down. Three houses, garages, and several other healthy trees are in the path of destruction if a strong wind blows through.
I know alot of people will not understand why this saddens me so deeply. "It is only a tree," they will say. "You are surrounded by trees." But I look at this majestic tree which is most likely one of the oldest in our neighborhood, and my heart breaks. I can't explain my deep connection to trees. I have lost other trees to storms and disease -- even one I had planted myself -- and have always mourned the losses, but somehow this is worse. I'm certain this tree was here long before our houses were built. It was probably originally planted as part of a hedgerow between farms. It has provided shelter for birds and critters, shade from the sun, and protection from winds, and has watched our families grow up and move on.
And now, its time has come, its season is past, and I will miss it each morning as I gaze from my kitchen window as the sun rises, with its rays filtering through the branches of the pines that remain. There will be an empty space -- its majesty will be gone. Over one hundred years of slow, steady growth will be felled in one day.
It will be quite a procedure to take it down. They are going to need a crane to reach the uppermost branches and safely maneuver them down between the trees, without damaging the garages that lie at its base. I don't think I can watch. I am a bit embarrassed to feel such deep emotion over a tree. So, I will busy myself elsewhere that day and not make my grief public.
But, this "tree-hugger" will always miss our beautiful old tree.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
The Gift of a Grandchild
Yesterday morning I was blessed with the birth of my new grandson, Lucas Michael. There is no greater happiness than to hold your newborn grandchild close to your heart, tracing his petal-soft cheeks and down-covered head with your fingers, and drinking in the sight of his innocent face. I gaze at him and wonder -- will he be strong and quiet like his father, or a little dynamo like his baby cousin. His deep blue eyes stare back so seriously at us as he absorbs his new world of light and sound and touch. I wonder what he will love and dream of, this blessed new child of ours.
My husband and I were fortunate last evening to have a few minutes alone with Lucas and his parents; we talked quietly and I rocked Lucas in my arms. Times have changed since my children were born. Then it was a more private affair, with parents alone throughout labor and delivery; many times the grandparents were allowed merely to view their new grandbaby through the nursery window. Now we can bond with them immediately. We are allowed to be part of the process -- checking in on Dad & Mom during labor, spending long hours in the waiting room with great anticipation in our hearts, and then being welcomed into the birthing room to touch our precious grandbabies when they are truly "fresh from God."
With the blessed relief of epidurals for this generation of mothers, labor is a much more peaceful process. My sons have been able to support and soothe their wives during labor, and even though, of course, there is pain, the epidurals make it more bearable. Walking into the labor room today I am struck by the quietness that precedes the strenuous pushing stage. Of course, delivering a baby is still painful and exhausting, but for the most part, I think today's mothers are more serene than those of us who tried to tough it out with the breathing techniques taught to us for natural childbirth.
I think today's fathers are much more bonded with their babies than in years past, because they are encouraged to share in the prenatal visits and the ultrasounds. I remember the awe in my son's voice after the very first ultrasound when he saw the tiny beginnings of fingers. By the time the baby is born, the father feels he is welcoming a beloved old friend --
As a grandmother, I will carry forever in my heart the sight of my own son's faces as they presented their newborn children to us. They glowed with love for these tiny infants. Watching their large hands gently cradle these babies I remembered their own tiny newborn hands -- what a miracle we experience as our grown babies have babies of their own.
Today I am ecstatic!!!
My husband and I were fortunate last evening to have a few minutes alone with Lucas and his parents; we talked quietly and I rocked Lucas in my arms. Times have changed since my children were born. Then it was a more private affair, with parents alone throughout labor and delivery; many times the grandparents were allowed merely to view their new grandbaby through the nursery window. Now we can bond with them immediately. We are allowed to be part of the process -- checking in on Dad & Mom during labor, spending long hours in the waiting room with great anticipation in our hearts, and then being welcomed into the birthing room to touch our precious grandbabies when they are truly "fresh from God."
With the blessed relief of epidurals for this generation of mothers, labor is a much more peaceful process. My sons have been able to support and soothe their wives during labor, and even though, of course, there is pain, the epidurals make it more bearable. Walking into the labor room today I am struck by the quietness that precedes the strenuous pushing stage. Of course, delivering a baby is still painful and exhausting, but for the most part, I think today's mothers are more serene than those of us who tried to tough it out with the breathing techniques taught to us for natural childbirth.
I think today's fathers are much more bonded with their babies than in years past, because they are encouraged to share in the prenatal visits and the ultrasounds. I remember the awe in my son's voice after the very first ultrasound when he saw the tiny beginnings of fingers. By the time the baby is born, the father feels he is welcoming a beloved old friend --
As a grandmother, I will carry forever in my heart the sight of my own son's faces as they presented their newborn children to us. They glowed with love for these tiny infants. Watching their large hands gently cradle these babies I remembered their own tiny newborn hands -- what a miracle we experience as our grown babies have babies of their own.
Today I am ecstatic!!!
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Waiting for Lucas
I am up early to enjoy the quiet of a Sunday morning -- no distant traffic noises as people hurry to begin their days -- only the gentle sounds of birdsong and the trickle of water in my little pond. We have been blessed with lovely weather for this Memorial Day weekend. The sun is shining and temperatures are in the 70's -- perfect for barbecues, camping, gardening and parades.
For the most part, I will spend my weekend at home, catching up on household and gardening chores. Tonight my son and his wife will come for a barbecue, and at some point I will make a visit to the cemetery to plant flowers on my parents' and grandparents' graves. I love long holiday weekends which are unscheduled; I can pick and choose my activities on a whim.
Most importantly, though, we will be waiting for my grandson, Lucas Michael, to arrive. His due date was yesterday, and we are increasingly impatient for his birth. My poor daughter-in-law is weary and wondering at this point if he will ever come. My son is worried because his wife is small and the baby is getting bigger by the day. And I am worried and filled with anticipation, but resigned to the fact that God has his plan and apparently it is not time yet for us to welcome Lucas into our waiting arms.
So, I will keep busy today - planting and tending the garden, preparing food for tonight's barbecue, dusting & polishing furniture and floors - yet always hoping for the phone to ring with the wonderful news that Lucas is finally on his way.
For the most part, I will spend my weekend at home, catching up on household and gardening chores. Tonight my son and his wife will come for a barbecue, and at some point I will make a visit to the cemetery to plant flowers on my parents' and grandparents' graves. I love long holiday weekends which are unscheduled; I can pick and choose my activities on a whim.
Most importantly, though, we will be waiting for my grandson, Lucas Michael, to arrive. His due date was yesterday, and we are increasingly impatient for his birth. My poor daughter-in-law is weary and wondering at this point if he will ever come. My son is worried because his wife is small and the baby is getting bigger by the day. And I am worried and filled with anticipation, but resigned to the fact that God has his plan and apparently it is not time yet for us to welcome Lucas into our waiting arms.
So, I will keep busy today - planting and tending the garden, preparing food for tonight's barbecue, dusting & polishing furniture and floors - yet always hoping for the phone to ring with the wonderful news that Lucas is finally on his way.
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Happy Mothers' Day
I was blessed with a gentle, caring mother who filled my childhood with the security of unconditional love and emotional support. Unfortunately, she passed away in 2001, so as I celebrate Mothers' Day each year, my joy is shadowed by her absence.
My heart also remembers with sadness my first baby girl who was stillborn. Thirty-four years have come and gone, but I carry her in my heart always.
For the most part, though, Mothers' Day is one of my very favorite holidays. Tomorrow I will gather for a special lunch with my children, my daughters-in-law, and my grandchildren, and I will cherish every second. For me, it is an especially meaningful celebration, because my granddaughter was born this year, and my new little grandson will be born in the next week or two.
I knew from childhood that I wanted to be a mother. It was not as easily accomplished as I had planned -- pregnancies did not happen quickly for me, and I was devastated by the loss of my first baby. Ultimately, though, I was blessed with three healthy children -- I think maybe children are even more precious to us when they don't come easily.
There is no greater happiness than the moment when your newborn baby is placed in your arms; the depth of your love is astounding, and it grows deeper each year as you watch this innocent baby through the stages of childhood, adolescence, and finally maturity. And then comes the blessing of grandchildren --
Each Mothers' Day I celebrate anew the gift of my children, and now my grandchildren. I don't need flowers and gifts and cards -- their faces and voices and hugs are more than enough!!
My heart also remembers with sadness my first baby girl who was stillborn. Thirty-four years have come and gone, but I carry her in my heart always.
For the most part, though, Mothers' Day is one of my very favorite holidays. Tomorrow I will gather for a special lunch with my children, my daughters-in-law, and my grandchildren, and I will cherish every second. For me, it is an especially meaningful celebration, because my granddaughter was born this year, and my new little grandson will be born in the next week or two.
I knew from childhood that I wanted to be a mother. It was not as easily accomplished as I had planned -- pregnancies did not happen quickly for me, and I was devastated by the loss of my first baby. Ultimately, though, I was blessed with three healthy children -- I think maybe children are even more precious to us when they don't come easily.
There is no greater happiness than the moment when your newborn baby is placed in your arms; the depth of your love is astounding, and it grows deeper each year as you watch this innocent baby through the stages of childhood, adolescence, and finally maturity. And then comes the blessing of grandchildren --
Each Mothers' Day I celebrate anew the gift of my children, and now my grandchildren. I don't need flowers and gifts and cards -- their faces and voices and hugs are more than enough!!
Saturday, May 3, 2008
Weekend Bliss
Saturday has been damp and chilly; thankfully, yesterday afternoon I worked in the flower gardens pulling up the baby weeds that had already begun to entangle the gardens. This is a chore that offers a real sense of accomplishment -- pulling out the undesirables in order to make more room for the flowers to soak up moisture and sunshine. We have a particularly stubborn weed in our yard which would overtake the entire house if left on its own, but yesterday I once again began to wage my perennial war against the goatweed. I marvel at the lush growth that takes place in the gardens during April. My bleeding hearts and forget-me-nots are prolific, and my lilies-of-the-valley are almost ready to burst into bloom. What loveliness God has created for us.
With so much work outside finished yesterday, a very productive week behind me in the office, and a full Thursday devoted to cleaning my house, my weekend is my own. I lingered over coffee this morning and began a lovely book, Chosen by a Horse, a memoir by Susan Richards. I went to the grocery store for a real "stock up", and after a quick lunch, went down to my son's house to check on their cats and get the house warmed up and ready for their return from vacation tonight. As I write, they are flying home from Florida. I can't wait to hold my baby granddaughter in my arms again, and see my grandson all tall and tan from the Florida sunshine.
I am "babysitting" for my daughter's white boxer tonight. She has plans with her friends, and I will keep Toby here with me for the night. He is a huge lapful of energy and love, with his soulful eyes and eager playfulness. My husband takes our two little dogs upstairs with him, and I snuggle on the couch with Toby. What pleasure and unconditional love we receive from our pets.
I have needed this quiet day. My life has been unbearably busy recently, and I am a person who needs time to think, ponder, and feel. I am a nurturer and caretaker and I need short periods of solitude here and there to restore my inner tranquility.
The month ahead will be busy, with Mothers' Day celebrations next weekend, and the birth of my precious baby grandson in two or three weeks. I am so impatiently awaiting his birth -- to finally see his little face and snuggle him to my heart.
Soon now, my son will call to tell me they are safely home, and I will settle peacefully into the softness of the couch, with Toby cuddled next to me, and savor the quiet of this spring night and the promise of a leisurely Sunday.
With so much work outside finished yesterday, a very productive week behind me in the office, and a full Thursday devoted to cleaning my house, my weekend is my own. I lingered over coffee this morning and began a lovely book, Chosen by a Horse, a memoir by Susan Richards. I went to the grocery store for a real "stock up", and after a quick lunch, went down to my son's house to check on their cats and get the house warmed up and ready for their return from vacation tonight. As I write, they are flying home from Florida. I can't wait to hold my baby granddaughter in my arms again, and see my grandson all tall and tan from the Florida sunshine.
I am "babysitting" for my daughter's white boxer tonight. She has plans with her friends, and I will keep Toby here with me for the night. He is a huge lapful of energy and love, with his soulful eyes and eager playfulness. My husband takes our two little dogs upstairs with him, and I snuggle on the couch with Toby. What pleasure and unconditional love we receive from our pets.
I have needed this quiet day. My life has been unbearably busy recently, and I am a person who needs time to think, ponder, and feel. I am a nurturer and caretaker and I need short periods of solitude here and there to restore my inner tranquility.
The month ahead will be busy, with Mothers' Day celebrations next weekend, and the birth of my precious baby grandson in two or three weeks. I am so impatiently awaiting his birth -- to finally see his little face and snuggle him to my heart.
Soon now, my son will call to tell me they are safely home, and I will settle peacefully into the softness of the couch, with Toby cuddled next to me, and savor the quiet of this spring night and the promise of a leisurely Sunday.
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