Airplane Poetry

1. words come more easily 

while traveling 

after the intensity 

of family - a few meals 

together, 40th birthday 

party, and visits with the 

last parent who is busy 

dying 

and walking with childhood 

friends to our old 

neighborhood park in 

cold sunlight with 

good dog company

 

all their ordinary lives 

that keep happening 

while I’m gone 

intersect with mine 

when I return and for 

a few shining hours 

we become - together - 

extraordinary

2. How do we forgive our Mothers?*

Maybe with a song 

that recalls their warmth

Do we forgive our Mothers for being overwhelmed too often or forever

when they told us we were “too much”?

Maybe for embarrassing us with unstylish clothes 

when they took us to soccer practice

or making us angry and abandoned 

because they never took us anywhere at all.

Do we forgive our Mothers for working outside the home,

Or not working outside the home?

For standing up to or not standing up to our Fathers?

And shall we forgive them for their lack of empathy or patience?

Shall we forgive them for their cold remove 

or for hot, controlling, sticky fingers in our lives 

like when they pulled tangles from our hair?

Do we forgive our Mothers 

in time, before they stop 

knowing us, when they stop speaking 

or only answer with one or two words?

If we do not forgive our Mothers

How do we forgive ourselves?

*with credit for cadence and form, to How Do We Forgive Our Fathers? by Dick Lourie and featured in the wonderful movie “Smoke Signals”

“Forgiveness is giving up the hope that the past could have been any different, it's accepting the past for what it was, and using this moment and this time to help yourself move forward.” ~ Oprah Winfrey

This is What (Self) Love Looks Like

10am massage on a work day 

to counteract all the sitting 

and running and lifting and

because I (gratefully) can 

hip openers in yoga class  

last weekend to help me  

access emotions 

sometimes suppressed 

enough sleep 

water 

good nutrition 

but beyond taking care 

of the only body I’ll ever 

have (in this lifetime) it’s also 

this mental/emotional balance 

no longer entertaining 

any delusions of grandeur 

or feeling like a piece of garbage 

now I muddle through the middle 

of these extremes, as happily and 

as humbly as I can

accepting my relative unimportance 

in the grand scheme of things 

and yet knowing how very important

I am, to those who love me 

knowing that what I do, 

how I treat people (including 

myself) matters 

so, giving myself 

gentle time 

not just cliched

“Self-Care” but 

something deeper 

the power of

God, and keeping clean 

and sober, working 

like magic in my life, 

for as many blessed 

days as I have left

Me, loving my time in last half marathon (also just loving that it was over!)

This is The Year

I am so excited to turn 50 this year! May sound crazy but it’s true…and not only because some of my closest childhood friends and I just bought tickets for a week in Hawaii. (Although that alone is pretty darn exciting!!!!) It’s also because I am not afraid of old age (or, I’m trying really really hard not to be), and I have so much planned for the rest of my life. 

I’m eyeing the possibility of being able to retire from my corporate gig maybe a little bit on the early side, and I can’t say for sure what I will do with myself but never attend another zoom meeting, is high on the list of priorities. I thought I was saying “goodbye” to all that, back in 2009 but (I was delusional and) life had more in store for me, so here I am again, anticipating some joyful joblessness…..just not exactly right now, I still very much need that paycheck and happy/grateful to have it!

But I can see an end in sight (even while having found a great company + area of IT that’s much more interesting/enjoyable, so far fewer days that I am desperate to leave), which makes me feel more free, and is a great consolation for no longer being young. So, I’m hoping we will do some retirement “theraplanning” (yes I just made that up, see how I did that - therapy + plan - because money can bring up complicated feelings for us all!) while we laze around on beaches during the Hawaii trip (there’s been talk about a collective assisted living/small farm situation someplace semi-rural). And meanwhile I’m feeling like ok 50, let’s go!

Long ago, it must be

Time it was, and what a time it was, it was

A time of innocence, A time of confidences

Long ago, it must be, I have a photograph

Preserve your memories; They're all that's left you

“Bookends” ~ by Simon and Garfunkel

It’s Christmas Time Pretty Baby

But I don’t feel very Christmas-y. Because my mother is dying and that is all I can think of, sometimes. 

So, a beautiful song to share that is decidedly not festive, but still associated with this time of year. May you all be merry and bright this season! 

Or at least have some contentment and peace, and extra time with people you love. ❤️ Because that is literally all that matters, in the end.

River - originally by Joni Mitchell but sung brilliantly in the show “The Politician” by Ben Platt

It's coming on Christmas

They're cutting down trees

They're putting up reindeer

And singing songs of joy and peace

Oh, I wish I had a river

I could skate away on

But it don't snow here

It stays pretty green

I'm going to make a lot of money

Then I'm going to quit this crazy scene

Oh, I wish I had a river

I could skate away on

Oh, I wish I had a river so long

I would teach my feet to fly

Oh, I wish I had a river

I could skate away on

I made my baby cry

He tried hard to help me

You know, he put me at ease

And he loved me so naughty

Made me weak in the knees

Oh, I wish I had a river

I could skate away on

I'm so hard to handle

I'm selfish, and I'm sad

Now, I've gone and lost the best baby

That I ever had

Oh, I wish I had a river

I could skate away on

Oh, I wish I had a river so long

I would teach my feet to fly

Oh, I wish I had a river

I could skate away on

I made my baby say goodbye

It's coming on Christmas

They're cutting down trees

They're putting up reindeer

And singing songs of joy and peace

Oh, I wish I had a river

I could skate away on

Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You, Baby

 https://youtu.be/-cx-aNvvzPk

Whispered something in your ear
It was a perverted thing to say
But I said it anyway
Made you smile and look away

Nothing's gonna hurt you, baby
As long as you're with me, you'll be just fine
Nothing's gonna hurt you, baby
Nothing's gonna take you from my side

When we dance in my living room
To that silly '90s R&B
When we have a drink or three
Always ends in a hazy shower scene

Nothing's gonna hurt you, baby
As long as you're with me, you'll be just fine
Nothing's gonna hurt you, baby
Nothing's gonna take you from my side

And we laugh into the microphone and sing
With our sunglasses on, to our favorite songs

And we're laughing in the microphone and singing
With our sunglasses on, to our favorite songs

Nothing's gonna hurt you, baby
Nothing's gonna take you from my side

Source: LyricFind

Songwriters: Gregory Steven Gonzalez

Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby lyrics © Peermusic Publishing, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.

Be Brave

The day after running my 3rd half marathon 3 weekends in a row, my sore muscles and I got on a (non-stop thankfully) flight to Seattle to see my mother Judy who recently went on hospice care, and to spend what very well could be our last holiday together, as our little 5 person family.

It’s dismaying how fast she has declined! And purely amazing to me how painful it is, to watch a parent grow more and more infirm, helpless, and to see her cognitively disappear a bit more with each visit. Thanksgiving was my fourth trip to Seattle this year, which was more than usual but necessary with the house sale. This visit we moved her to a much smaller facility, where she’ll get the higher level of care she now needs, unfortunately.

I feel like someone should have warned me, about how hard this would be - I feel like I missed the memo that might have helped me to prepare!

I feel in a way that it’s completely unfair, that after enduring the sudden hiking accident death of our Dad all those years ago, we are now subjected to this slow-mo demise of our mother. But I also know that many families have endured far greater hardship and that given the prevalence of Alzheimer’s disease and dementia, we are not alone in such misery. 

Still, it’s hard not to be somewhat self-centered in this pain.

It’s just that I selfishly can’t quite believe that during this wonderful time in my life, when I feel so personally powerful, so healthy & strong not just physically, but mentally, emotionally, spiritually, hell even financially! which I thought would never happen (having only recently caught up with where I probably should be for retirement savings), I am facing my mom’s impairment on all these levels, where I finally feel like I’m hitting my stride (to use, of course, a running metaphor).

And I want to turn away from it, bury my head in the sand, break down, bargain, deny. But I know I have to face it, I have to be brave, or at least try.

My Half Marathon Month

I ran my first half marathon in April 2001. I did it on a whim because I had just done a full marathon in February, training with an organization called Team in Training, raising money for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society and when a bunch of my fellow runners from that event suggested it, I was like why not? I’m all trained up already and it will seem short compared to the torture of a full marathon! Then I surprised myself by running faster than I ever thought possible with an average pace of 9:34 per mile, where I had always thought of myself as a 10 minute mile (or more) slow poke. Especially for longer distances and I proved that with my February marathon time being 4 hours 44 minutes or a pace of 10:51/mile.

Flash forward 15 years (a span of time in which I did a lot of things, but little if any running), and the half marathon distance has become MY race.  But what started it all was another whim: some friends at a new job decided to do one as a group challenge, and then after that first race I and the person who became my fabulous “running buddy” just kept going…and going…and going…to the point where I’ve now completed 17 half marathons and all except for that very first one, in the last 6 years. I absolutely freaking love it.

So this month my running buddy and I are doing three half marathons, three weekends in a row - we are officially 2 down and 1 to go!  My half marathon month (similar to My Yoga Month, a million years ago).

And my half marathon month couldn’t have begun more inauspiciously with the worst weather for a race I’ve ever experienced: unusually cold and wet for November in Savannah, GA (so bad they cancelled the full marathon), and these unhappy faces say it all. 

I think I ran faster than I would have otherwise, all water logged (despite the garbage bag a nice fellow runner gave me), and cold and miserable, just because I so wanted it to be over. And finish we did, with the best part being how afterwards we cozied up in our Airbnb watching Netflix for the rest of day while it continued to pour outside. Eating everything in sight with no guilt, because I mean - 13.1 miles, c’mon!  

I’ve started calling it my “race reward eating” and it gives me a ton of pleasure, esp since I’m on a strict diet otherwise, paring myself down to lowest weight and body fat imaginable so I can enter a fitness competition before I turn 50.  But that’s another blog post!

Next race (this past weekend) couldn’t have been more different, at the St.Pete Runfest with unbridled sun and blue skies the whole way, but blessedly low humidity and a little on the “cold” side - just perfect running weather. And so my time improved a tiny bit, from 10:05 minute miles in Savannah to 9:58.

And we were much happier, before, during and after! Especially because St.Pete Runfest has a great post-race party with lots of free samples and yummy food. It’s all about the post-race food, did I mention that?

And finally, this coming weekend we do Central Florida Legends Mermaid Half Marathon, one of my very favorite races. This is the second year we’ve done the Mermaid, but the first year I did this race series back in 2019 I did the “Skunk Ape” full marathon, mainly because I needed to prove to myself I could still run 26.2 miles, that the first one hadn’t been a fluke. 

Well, I “ran” it in almost 5 and 1/2 hours, so if I proved anything it’s how much slower I am in my 40s than I was with my first marathon at age 29 (about 45 minutes slower actually). And I was hurting pretty bad after that one, I gotta say, so I pray I never whimsically do another full marathon again. But half marathons? No problem!  

We actually already did 3 half marathons almost in a row - with one “off” weekend between each race - back in Feb.2020 right before everything shut down for COVID, and I got my very fastest time, even beating my 29 year-old self’s 2001 PR. So now I’ve got to beat the 9:21 miles I managed to do at Best Damn Race Orlando and I just have no idea how I’m gonna do it. But, I will give it my best damn shot! 

And enjoy every mile and side ache and sore muscles and after party and medal and moment of misery and elation that each race delivers.

La Florida - Post Script

I found the Cross Creek trip photos, and am including with FaceBook commentary for date and context.

La Florida

So, I’m finding it hard to write this post about how much I love my adopted home state, similar to how I struggle sometimes to explain my ongoing love affair with my sobriety - there’s still a bit of wonder and mystery to both of them. And part of me doesn’t even need or want that to go away.  

But what’s clear is this and I guess the best way to tell it is through all the Florida books I have read: it’s easy to fall in love with the beaches here (esp Gulf Coast beaches which I highly prefer to the East), endless summer and palm trees, beautiful blue water and white sand, the glorious sunrise and sunset; it’s much harder to appreciate the interior of this state, the “Florida scrub” and cracker history, and to see around the behemoth that is Disney (see Team Rodent by Carl Hiaasen) in the messy middle of it all.  

It’s difficult to face and fully acknowledge the state’s bloody racist past (see Gilbert King’s Devil in the Grove and Beneath A Ruthless Sun) not to mention present, hard to reconcile what I love with the cruel conservative politics, “individualism” unto lawlessness, the ignorance, and greed-fueled ecological destruction happening ever since Florida was discovered by the larger US population (find a wonderful description of “the way it was” in A Land Remembered by Patrick D. Smith). 

It’s tempting simply to mourn the beauty that has been lost (The Everglades: River of Grass, which I’ve actually not read but just got from lib.), or get stuck in thinking about how the state could have been developed in a more sane and rational way (For Sale: American Paradise).  

It’s easy to get distracted by routine zaniness that seems to happen only here, in a state where everyone is from somewhere else, and half of them seem to be running from something. Where vacationers don’t know where they are going and some people are too old - or too busy texting - to drive properly and so the car accidents are numerous and phenomenal in nature.There’s a saying, or maybe I made it up, that you shake the country and all the detritus ends up at this bottom-most state. And it can be off-putting, I mean, we all laugh at “Florida Man” but no one really wants to be him.  Or even have him as a neighbor, let’s face it.   

Still, I love this place, crazies and all, to me it’s somehow just the Best.State.Ever (Dave Barry) and to appreciate it you have to read Florida by Lauren Groff, Stiltsville by Susanna Daniel or Swamplandia! by Karen Russell; Tourist Season or anything else by Carl Hiaasen; my husband loves John McDonald and Randy Wayne White but I never really got into those well-known Florida authors as much as Hiaasen, who can make you get angry, laugh, and cringe about this state we’re in, all at the same time. 

And of course The Yearling, which started my Florida love affair that went beyond the beaches…years ago I wrote Fear & Loathing on FaceBook Etc. in part about reading that book and seeing the movie, thought I had also written about the trip we took to Ocala and Majorie Kinnan Rawlings’ Cross Creek homestead, now a state park, and how we actually magically did see a couple deer from afar, standing in a riverbed now completely overgrown with vegetation (drought being just one of the ecological problems we have here), but apparently I didn’t cover that at all. I have photos in my head from that trip which I can’t find on my phone or FaceBook…all lost and merged in the jumble of time I guess.

But my book club’s selection this month just happens to be The Life She Wished to Live, a new bio of Rawlings by Ann McCutchan, and reading it has brought this all back to me again. Along with reliving my discovery of interior, rural and small town Florida, I’m also learning something new: what an incredible, and incredibly flawed, woman she was - the NY Times article states  “This is the most recent biography of Rawlings, after Elizabeth Silverthorne’s “Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings: Sojourner at Cross Creek” appeared in 1988. It’s a pleasure to meet this cursing, hard-drinking, brilliant, self-destructive, car-wrecking, fun-loving, chain-smoking, alligator-hunting, moonshine-making, food-obsessed woman again on the page.” 

Also how she struggled with her writing - the article goes on to say - “She wanted the unvarnished truth about it, and about everything else. She warned Perkins: ‘I will bring up a live rattlesnake and drop it on your desk if you are ever polite about my stuff and I catch you at it.’ To a friend she wrote: ‘Sexual failure, lack of happiness, none of it matters if I can say the things I want to say.’”

So, as I identify with and admire this woman’s life and I struggle to “say the things I want to say” about the Florida that I’ve come to know and love (maybe a little bit like her), I feel that I am in such great company.