Release from regret

I asked some friends the following question, “What was the hardest adult decision you made?” Most, not surprisingly, mention their decision to separate from their partner or spouse. Maybe loving and leaving is a part of growing up. Or maybe, it is something that most likely will happen to all of us at one time when growing old.

I never expected though that those break ups would still sting as decades pass. I thought the sting would fade, yet they do not. Break ups do not adhere to any time continuum.

K., wrote as an answer, “The decision to leave my first husband.  A decision I will never not regret, and I’m still not sure, even 30+ years later, that that was a good decision.” At the time of their divorce, she was torn. Now 30 years on, she is still unsure of whether it was the right choice. Something that is hard for me, as her loving friend, to get my head around. Is her feeling of regret a feathery query for self-forgiveness or a barrier that stands between her and joyful acceptance?

As K’s friend, I wish I could help her leave the past, gently release herself from those memories that are no longer true and beliefs that have not stood the rigor of time.

(This post is part of my "Growing Up & Growing Old" project.)

Such a dear morning...

Young leaves of spring green

White seagull on chimney pot

Such a dear morning.

Sand storm

Family matters come

Without warning in our lives

Sand corn in my eyes.

Tea party

Sunday afternoon
Hot tea with crumpets and whey
Sore lip slightly burnt.

When I felt like an adult

What experience or moment made you feel like you were a grown up?

S.: I would like this answer to be more profound or quirky, but not having to rely on a monthly pay check from my parents felt like I was finally a "real" grown up. I know equating financial independence with growing up is a bit of a tired narrative, but I didn't see it as a "final step of liberation" from them. I rather saw money (or lack thereof) as a trigger for my anxiety, making this a topic I never wanted to talk or learn about.

Finally having some of my own money coincided with so many other "grown up" developments, such as paying rent and bills and student loans, getting my first job, etc. And yet, just being in charge of my own money, organizing my budget, saving up and learning about financial intelligence has made me feel more grown up and in charge of my life.

K.: A key experience that made me feel grown up was getting my first real job when I was a sophomore in high school.  My after-school job was working in a shoe store 10 hours a week. I was selling shoes and helping with the basic chores of running the enormous old-fashioned cash register, helping customers, arranging displays, and stocking shelves. All the while getting to know the amazing woman who ran the store for 40 years, having demanded it as part of the divorce settlement after her husband left her.

I earned $1.50 an hour, back in the late 1970s, but the experience it gave me was worth a lot more than that.

(This post is part of my "Growing Up & Growing Old" project.)

Urban hiker

Every day I walk

The paths circling the city

Spring blossoms abound.

Inspired by Chris Leipelt and Marc Kleen on Unsplash

Sneezing with sunlight

The first thing that came to mind when I saw the the following photo.

High tide brings the sand
Crawling upstairs to my door
I sneeze with sunlight.

(Here is another photo story I wrote a few years ago.)

Photo from Riley on Unsplash

Pink and yellow

Daisy chain woven

By my young nimble fingers

Daydreams disappear. 

Drawing inspired by Janita Sumeiko on Unsplash

More the pot than the plant

 

I am always quite envious of those homes that are filled with house plants. My daughter's place is so. I've only had the chance to meet her potted friends over video. It would be lovely to make their acquaintanceship in person one day. 

 
You might ask why we do not have some in our home... after many many many attempts, I have come to a realisation that I like the stillness and beauty of the ceramic pots and less the finicky nature of the plants. 

What matters is...

What matters is actually a variety of things...

• your blue fishnet stockings must line up on a straight seam
• blue fishnet does not match your daisy-patterned pink dress (no further explanation is offered)
• mascara is to be applied heavily, but should under no circumstances clump
• if, eee-gads, your lashes stick together, use the end of a safety pin to draw them apart
• pink lipgloss is not lipstick
• when you apply lipstick, always briefly press down your lips on a tissue
• be constantly aware of getting lipstick on your teeth, that is so vulgar

It is sometimes bloody awful to be the youngest of three sisters.

(This post is part of my "Growing Up & Growing Old" project.)

After the tsunami

Years ago, while sailing the coast of Venezuela with my parents, we spent some days anchored off an uninhabited island that was only desert terrain. The reason it was so, was that apparently a tsunami had hit the island hundreds of years before and tore all the lush vegetation away. The following poem is written about an experience I had early one morning when I took the dingy over by myself to the island to explore.

I wander out onto the desert at dawn,
Its vastness is alive with intense colours 
Yet to be flattened by sunlight.
Instead, the oranges, reds, and browns are
Rarified by the rivulets of dewdrops. 
A collage of animal footprints pattern the
Sand with stories of their nightly hunt.
And then there, over there, 

A final signature, a primal swish

Of an iguana's tail marks the beginning
In this marvelous morn.

Magical moment

 

Oh so magical

When a turtle surfaces

From the depths below.

(This post is part of my "Growing Up & Growing Old" project.)

Trying to help my younger brother, Daniel

This short story is about how on one of their first family sailing trips up the Grenadines, I tried to help my younger brother, Daniel, feel better. He was suffering unfortunately from seasickness.

Since Daniel was much younger than us three girls, he grew up more as an only child. When he was very young, he was someone we babysat while our parents were awaz. Later on, even before he and our parents moved to Grenada, it was apparent he was a very wonderful and funny brother to have. 

Daniel, you are the best brother anyone could have.

Thank you, cc Andy Blackwood for your music.

Easter egg hunt

Is the point of an Easter egg hunt to find the eggs, or is it to learn how to steal them from under your sisters' eyes? 

* This post is part of my "Growing Up & Growing Old" project.

Love language

My neighbour across the street does the following ritual every morning when he leaves his home...

He stands at the corner of the street, so his partner can see him, as she looks out their living room window. Then he does the following gestures:

1. he waves to her,

2. touches his heart,

3. checks all his pockets (for what... wallet, phone, keys?),

4. gives a thumbs up,

5. touches his heart again,

6. and then gives a big smile that even she can see three stories up.