The beauty that is my mother

Over the weekend my mom and I got together to empty out my storage space- something long over due and because of that, dreaded (the emptying out, not the getting together). Luckily, this is the last of the storage space and what was my married life existence. Donate, dispose, forward on or keep. I guess that is how all things in life go- breaking down memories, souvenirs of our lives. Determining what matters to us then or what we may want in the future- all the while lightening our loads of the things that weigh us down.

My mom is good with this. She always comes willing to lend a hand (and an ear) and doing her best not to invade one's privacy. We usually end up laughing through the task at hand and jumping from topic to topic in a mad whirlwind of jumbled thoughts and tangential stories. She may drive me crazy sometimes, but I appreciate the time we spend and am glad that I have someone like my mother to lean on.

Since retiring, my mother has started to spread her wings- beginning to discover new hobbies. She often claims (falsely, I might add) that she isn't creative or artistic and that these attributes skipped a generation. She is wrong. Like her mother before her, when focused, she is creative and artistic in the things she does. When I was a child, she made costumes for Halloween and tooth fairy pillows for each of my classmates the year all of our teeth seemed to fall out of our heads.

Recently, she attended a clay working class. Her pieces turned out well- even within the newness of the medium, her creativity shows through. She also created a pendant for me, a little tree carving. It is simplistic and beautiful. I admire trees and their quiet strength. I admire the same in my mother. Thanks again mom.

When I Married You...

Sometimes it is easier to write the things one means to say. Sometimes it cuts out the background noise and distractions. The following is a poem I threw together:

When I married you…

When I married you, I loved you like no other.
When I married you, I knew it was not the paper that bound us, but our commitment to each other.
When I married you, I knew there was no one else.
When I married you, I looked ahead and was happy.
When I married you, I looked behind and was satisfied.
When I married you, I knew you were my best friend.
When I married you, I married you forever.
When I married you, I said goodbye to single life with no regrets.
When I married you, I welcomed you with my whole being.
When I married you, I was confident that our love was strong.
When I married you, I knew you were not perfect, but that you were perfect for me.
When I married you, I knew I was not perfect, but wanted the ‘me’ I was (am) to be the perfection you sought.
When I married you, I said I do (and I have).
When I married you, I knew there would be some hard times.
When I married you, I knew there would be some sorrowful times.
When I married you, I believed we could get through anything together.
When I married you, I knew I would walk through fire for you.
When I married you, I knew life was short and wanted to share it with you.
When I married you, I knew I wanted to grow old with you.
When I married you, I felt your love and it made me strong.
When I married you, I knew there would be much laughter.
When I married you, I bound myself to all of you, even to the shadows in your heart's doorway.
When I married you, you lighted my shadows, wiped away the cobwebs in my heart and made room for it to grow.
When I married you, I wanted to share my world with you.
When I married you, I wanted to know your world, to walk in your secret garden.
When I married you, I knew life would never be the same.

I still feel the same today.

(2010)

While on the topic of marriage, I also want to share with you of my favorite songs by Francis Cabrel, Je T'aimais, Je T'aime, Je T'aimerai. It is a truly amazing song. For the lyrics, in French and an English translation see here.

Love your other like you will die tomorrow. If you do, you will have no regrets should it be so...

Get Back In Touch

Recently, I was discussing the importance of touch- both being touched and touching another. I find touch to be one of our greatest senses. Don't get me wrong, all our senses play an important part in our everyday being, but touch literally and figuratively links us to the world around us. Research has determined that touch is so important that children who have been neglected and have not received enough touching from another develop more slowly and are more likely to have emotional disconnection than children that experience touch on a regular basis.

Moreover, per some studies, societies that have more touching such as France have lower rates of violence. That correlation makes sense to me. If we are touching we are experiencing each other and our world in a more interactive way. I have always found touch to be necessary and healthy in both love and friend relationships. It is a form of grounding, the other person is physically present. The connection created reduces the chance of seeing the person as other, unrelated and easy to discard and harm. It also can reduce the need to be violent because it provides an outlet to anger and aggression by giving emotional support, a shoulder to cry on shall we say.

In our society today, I believe we move further and further away from each other. Between text messaging and e-mailing, phone calling and Skyping, many of us have forgotten the importance and the art of touching. I do not want to down play the importance of those other forms of communication in our daily lives and the opportunities they have given us to be in contact when we are across the world and unable to be in each other's presence, but we need to touch more.  Many in the U.S. shy away from placing a hand on another for fear of being seen inappropriate. Appropriate touching can make us feel less alone, can comfort us in times of sorrow, can show love and affection for another, can show concern and relieve stress.

On a personal level, I know I need to be touched and touch. The surprise hug while washing dishes, the hand on the shoulder when passing by, a stroke of one's hair while watching a movie, the resting of hands on the small of one's back or waist- these all remind me that I am here in the present. That I am loved and protected. That I protect and show love to another. They tend to be the thing most missed when someone dies or leaves- the feeling of them being there, in the present. And you know they are there, because you can feel them.