The Beautiful Things Of Life

Posted on November 9, 2016 by Lynette

I don’t think of all the misery but of the beauty that still remains. -Anne Frank

EPSON MFP image

When I opened my vintage shop this morning, it was with a weary and aching heart. It felt like such an effort to do the normal things, like putting vintage furniture outside to display on the sidewalk and turning on the glittery holiday lights. I moved slow, each step plodding and uncertain.

An elderly woman came through the door of the shop and asked if it was a good time to show me some items I might be interested in purchasing. She had brought in her family’s collection of vintage postcards, some dating back to the early 1900s. Lovely Christmas, New Year’s and Valentine cards, most with inscriptions on the back. I love the old handwriting, with the large showy swirls and the fading burnished ink.

I decided to buy them all, and was studying them as she browsed through my shop. One caught my eye. It featured a boy carrying boxes of flowers and wearing wooden clog shoes. It read at the bottom BONNE ANNEE, “Good Year”, in French. And handwritten down one side were the words…..

The Beautiful things of Life.

I turned it over and written on the back….Germany November 9, 1944

72 years ago. TODAY.

Dear Pearl, Here’s wishing you a merry Xmas and a Happy New Year. Always, Marvin.

EPSON MFP image

I asked if she knew the history of this card. Yes, she did. Pearl was her mother. At the time of this postcard her mother and father were engaged to be married but had decided to wait until after the war was over because her father didn’t want her mother to be a widow. Her father had been at Pearl Harbor during the attack, and stationed in the Figi Islands for a great part of the war. Marvin was her father’s brother. He was fighting in Germany, when he wrote this card.

Marvin was thinking about and fighting for the beautiful things of life.

Imagine what Marvin saw every day. The horrors. The devastation. The worst impulses of men. And yet, he was able to think about higher things.

I am keeping this card and placing it where I can see it every day.

If Marvin could keep his heart unsullied by the horrors of war, if Marvin could still think about beauty and the things that truly matter, then I can too. Despite the hate and the ugliness displayed so horribly yesterday, I can look above and beyond.

I will seek The Beautiful Things Of Life.

Thank you Marvin, from a lightened heart… exactly 72 years in the future.

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I Am Building My Own Damn Wall

Posted on November 9, 2016 by Lynette

Old wall

I am heartsick and devastated. I have always thought that there was more love in the world than hate but I found out differently tonight. It’s going to take me some time to get used to this new reality.

I am ashamed to be an American tonight. We are no longer the greatest country in the world, and won’t be for some time to come. We may achieve that again, but we have some dark days ahead.

So I came up with an idea of how I am going to survive the next 4 years.

I AM GOING TO BUILD MY OWN DAMN WALL.

and here’s how it looks.

  1. I will never refer to him as president. He’s not MY president. Y’all who used to say that about Obama…get used to it.
  2. When I travel I am going to start telling people I am Canadian. After all, they are kind, nice and civilized people. And we aren’t.
  3. I am turning off most media starting now. I don’t want to see his face or hear his voice or hear the countless second guessing. The media helped create this monster, so I am pissed at them too. I don’t really need to know what is going on, day by day. It’s going to be mostly bad, so why do I need to hear about it?
  4. We have certain values behind my wall so only people who reflect those values will be let in. Values like kindness, compassion, tolerance, and acceptance.
  5. Behind my wall there is love and joy and art and creativity. We support each other and inspire each other.
  6. Behind my wall we embrace people of all races, religions, sexual preferences and identities.
  7. We only allow intelligent and reasoned thought behind my wall.
  8. We don’t talk about him behind my wall. We don’t think about him much, behind my wall. There are better and more positive things to think about. And frankly, I have already spent more time thinking about him than I should have in an entire lifetime.
  9. And finally, I refuse to let my day to day life be affected by his presidency, whenever possible. He may have won the popular vote because we have so many ignorant people in this country, but he hasn’t won the right to be a significant part of MY life.
  10. EDIT December 7, 2016. He DIDN’T win the popular vote after all.  I wrote this at 3am the night of the elections, before all the votes were counted.  Hillary Clinton won 2.6 million more votes than he did. She didn’t lose.  We all lost, instead.
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My Father Is Batman And It’s Terribly Terribly Wrong

Posted on November 1, 2016 by Lynette

dad-batman

My 84-year-old Dad dressed up as Batman for Halloween last night and there’s a big part of me that thinks that’s the best thing ever. Seriously. How cool is that? He was visiting his grandsons in Colorado and they were dressing as superheroes so he decided to be part of the fun. I LOVE that he did this! I want to be that amazingly cool when I am 84.

However. HOWEVER. I have had a serious Batman fetish since I was in my early 20s. And I do mean serious. I could have a long conversation with any Batman fan about the comics versus the movies, which Batman actor was the best and which ones were awful, and on and on and on. And if my guy wants to have the best time of his life EVER? Dress up as Batman for me. And watch out. Batman is dead sexy for me. And always has been.

Except that now my dad has dressed up like Batman.

That is seriously messed up.

I am not sure how I am going to recover from this.

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A Visit From Cackle

Posted on October 31, 2016 by Lynette

veronica-lake-witch

There once was a witch

Named Cackle,

Who liked to eat fingers for breakfast,

Big toes were delightful for brunch,

ear lobes perfect

For a midnight snack.

Her tastes were peculiar,

No soft flesh for her,

She liked a satisfying crunch

To her meals,

Although she was partial

To the chomping pop of an eye.

Where is Cackle now, you ask?

Oh, I thought you knew.

She’s standing right behind you,

And what a delicious meal you will be!

Happy Halloween!!!

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Reflections on the Lost Years

Posted on October 29, 2016 by Lynette

Vintage Wedding display

A friend had a birthday recently and was asked the question on whether she would go back and live part of her life over, if given the chance. If so, would she go back to her 20s or 30s or when?  She then asked her friends the same question.  This is what I replied.

You couldn’t pay me enough to go back to my 20s. I didn’t know who I was and man, there was a lot of turmoil and angst and pain in those years. I really came into my own in my 30s. I was confident and sexy and strong and had some great adventures. My 40s were a wasteland. Just a really really bad decade, mainly due to an awful marriage. I left him in the dust when I turned 50, in fact damn near right after my 50th birthday and my 50s have been amazing for the past 5 years. I know who I am, I like who I am and I am following my passions. And I have the most love in my life I have ever had. While it hasn’t been all roses, life is pretty great and I feel very blessed.

I don’t feel 55, I don’t act 55 and I think I am making up for those lost years in my 40s. So really, the only reason I would go back, and I would go back to my 30s, would be to say yes to a couple of opportunities I said no to at the time, and I would say a big fat NO to the man I unfortunately married. Knowing what I know now…..would be a wonderful gift and would give me back those lost years.

She then asked about the lost years. Here is my answer.

I met him in my late 30s and from day one it was his goal to get me to marry him. He played the part of the perfect boyfriend to perfection (even taking me to London for Valentine’s Day) until after we were married, and then he felt safe in showing me just how damaged he was. From that point forward I did everything I could to salvage the marriage…including allowing him to verbally abuse me and making up excuses for his behavior towards me and others in his life. I was brought up that marriage is for better and for worse and along with a fierce sense of loyalty, and love, and just plain stubbornness, made me try my damnest to make it work.

Being consistently verbally abused, by an attorney no less, who fully knew the power of words, did a number on my psyche but he was never able to make me feel completely worthless, as I kept a strong sense of self from having a successful business and validation from friends and family who loved me.

But I was miserable all the same, and vowed that I wouldn’t let the rest of my life be lessened by this toxic treatment. I made the decision that he needed to get his act together and learn to treat me with the kindness, care and love that I deserved….and if he couldn’t, I was done. The deadline was my 50th birthday. I went on a long blissful 2 week road trip with a girlfriend for my 50th birthday and after I came back I asked him to move out. Done.

He begged and pleaded….spent many months trying to get me to take him back….but I was truly done. He had an amazing woman in his life, and he squandered my love. I was a really good wife to him, far better than he deserved…and he knew it. He knew he had blown it. But it was too late. DONE.

It’s a remarkably common story.  I have heard many versions of it over the years. I have helped counsel women who are still stuck and miserable, or at the beginning of the pain of the end of the relationship. And I tell each of them….what I told myself when things were really rough….This TOO Shall Pass. It’s my promise to them. It worked for me and it will work for them as they keep going. I am happy now..they will be happy again too. I have joy now…they will have it too. And best of all, they will have love.  Much love. As do I.

 

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If Cats Were Productive Instead of Lazy Buggers

Posted on October 26, 2016 by Lynette

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If Cats were productive

instead of being lazy buggers,

They’d clean their own litter box,

and be adept with a whisk broom.

Instead of drowsing in speckled sunlight,

they’d be typing out a best seller

about finding a spiritual path

through coughing up hairballs.

Time spent draped across a lap

could be better spent

indexing numbers of spiders caught

versus spiders too high to reach,

and researching ways to climb ever higher.

Now THAT would be a noble task!

And truly, why DO cats need to sleep so much?

Couldn’t they conduct a mouse orchestra,

with sharp swift swoops of their tail?

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Hunger

Posted on September 30, 2016 by Lynette

neck

There’s things to miss when one’s alone,

that liquid jolt,

the murmured sighs,

light strokes on the back of neck.

the deep felt crave which sleeps most days

does rise in burnished night,

tampered down from weary limbs

but lurking all the same.

It is a choice to be alone

though soon my gates fling wide,

I know a sultry song we’ll hum

as we immerse and dance as one.

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How To Mourn What Never Was

Posted on September 7, 2016 by Lynette

mary-cassatt-mother-and-child-1880

Your mother holding your newborn child~

Nose kisses, bedtime stories, chatty talks,

First day of school clothes

cuddle monster, bed chase, sidewalk chalk,

Santa Claus

swing pushes,  explorations, road trips,

seeing the world through the eyes of your child.

History homework, teen age blooming, not so secret crushes–

diplomas, driver lessons, college aspirations,

setting them free into the world.

 

Not having that, never having that, always wanting that,

with a husband who could but wouldn’t comply,

4 lost chances, 4 partial glimpses, 4 and then no more.

 

When we look back on our lives

there’s always one central tragedy

one big ka-pow to our soul–

it’s how we live each day despite that wrench

that shows how far we can go…

to find peace to find joy

to find peace….

in what remains of the world.

 

 

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It’s One Thing To Dream

Posted on August 17, 2016 by Lynette

 

notebook

Don’t earnestly promise to catch me a star,

Cradle stars in your hands, cut up and bruised.

Don’t talk about how England awaits,

Grasp my hand as we wander down cobblestone streets.

Don’t tell me that you want to paint my portrait,

Show me in a sketch how you’ve captured my eyes.

In that notebook where you write all our future adventures,

How many entries will you ever cross off?

It’s one thing entirely to dream a beautiful love story,

It’s another thing to strive to make it all real.

Don’t promise we’ll go dancing together in the moonlight

Put on sultry music

slide across the floor and pull me towards you.

 

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Your Heart Should Have Buoys

Posted on August 6, 2016 by Lynette

buoy

Your heart should have buoys around its shores

warning any adventurous sort not to venture too close.

With flashing strobes and a strident moan…

stay back stay back stay back.

But there’s always going to be someone like me

willing to ignore the warning clang,

venturing close and closer still…..

until I smash into your hidden shoals,

another shipwreck littering your shore.

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