another good-bye OR end of an era

This time the good-bye is not one of living breathing sorts, but rather it is a farewell to our 1993 Previa mini-van. As of today, I am officially no longer a mini-van mom. It is with mixed emotions that I say this farewell for indeed it feels much more like the end of an era rather than the sale of a car.

I can still picture the day nearly 15 years ago when my husband called and asked me to come test drive this gem he had just found. Things moved pretty quickly and before I knew it, he had returned to work and I was left at the car dealership with two very small children (aged 4 and one.) The three of us were there for what seemed like hours, but at the end of the day I was no longer a BMW-driving yuppie and had officially joined the ranks of Soccer moms everywhere (even though soccer would not be introduced into our lives for four more years.)

It feels funny to have this little tug pulling at my heart as I sit waiting for the new owner to come pick up the car. As I wait, my life (or at least the last 15 years) seems to flash before my eyes. I can feel the hundreds of trips between our home and the little Christian elementary school both kids attended. My daughter and I picked Curry up in this van. His favorite spot became the space between the driver and passenger seats where he regally held court as we went through many a drive through and he was lavished with doggie treats while the kids received candy or stickers. I see the road trips we took--traveling as far as Penticton, Canada for the Canadian Ironman and south to California for Christmas with dear friends.

My kids grew up in that car and I guess I probably did too. We considered saving it for our son to drive, but the thought of a teenage boy with all that space stirs up memories of my own youth and I shudder at the thought. We have considered selling the car for more than a year now. In the back of my mind, it seemed in many ways to be Curry’s car. He never liked sedans or smaller vehicles until he experienced the joy of my VW convertible. In later years he could not climb into taller cars and so we kind of kept the van around—just in case…

So, 'just in case' has come and gone. It is time to say good-bye. Good-bye to the van. Good-bye to an era. That car is full of amazing memories and I hope many more will be accumulated as I turn it over to its new owner—a mom with three small children. Her brother knocked on our door last night inquiring if we would like to sell it. Evidently his sister’s car (another Previa) had been totaled by a drunk driver and they have little money to spare. We had a family conference to decide if we would sell it for less than ½ the blue book value to a man who was potentially scamming us. My daughter put things in a way only a teenager can when she said, “Really…who would try to scam us for that piece of you know what!?!??!?” My thought was that even if it was a scam, the man appeared to be less fortunate than we and my hope is that the new/old car would somehow benefit him and his family. (Gee, that sounds more magnanimous than I really feel! ☺) It also feels like time to say good-bye. Time to do a little de-cluttering as Sunrise Sister has recently reminded us.

Well...the car may be gone and the street therefore a little less cluttered, but the memories will last a lifetime (especially since I decided to write a few of them down ☺.)

meeting liberty

It is a picture perfect fall day here in the Pacific Northwest. The sun is shining. The leaves are just starting to turn and the air has that wonderful little nip to it. Over the past several months I have turned into a “destination” walker which means I am usually on my way to an appointment or errand during my morning stroll. This morning it was a visit to the chiropractor. I realized as I walked that I have been avoiding my camera lately—ever since I requested and received Photoshop Elements for my birthday.

This morning, however, I decided to push past my hesitancy and take some photos with the hope of spending time immersed in learning at least how to crop and tune my photos up a bit. Alas, the camera rebelled and the battery died in the midst of the very first photo. So, I was left with only my photographic memory to capture the details of the day.

On my return home, I found myself walking through the park behind an older gentlemen and his golden retriever. I picked up the pace to catch up with them, because I cannot bypass the opportunity to receive a little “golden” love since the death of Curry. My selfish tendencies were in high gear and this was all about me getting what I needed this morning.

I politely asked if I could love on his dog for a minute and then felt like I had come face to face with the reincarnation of my old sweet guy. “He’s thirteen,” the owner announced. A lump in my throat, I confessed that we had just lost our 13-year-old golden. What ensued was a gentle and kind retelling of the last days and moments of Curry’s life. The owner asked me questions like “How did you know when it was time?” “Was it peaceful?” “Did he suffer?” Somewhere in the conversation, I realized that this moment was not just for me. Liberty’s (the dog) owner was entering his own process of letting go and had needed some reassurance that they would get through it. I am so grateful I was there to be that reassurance.

Much of this meeting reminds me of my recent post, “life cycles.” There was something in this encounter that spoke deeply of emptying and filling. I have not decided yet how the process transpired. Who was filled and who was emptied? Does it even matter? What I do know is that I followed my heart seeking what I needed in the moment to help me with my own grieving process and in the midst I met another person who had his own sorrow to share. Oddly, both of us walked away comforted. I will remember Liberty and his owner for quite some time. At first site Liberty appeared to be the ghost of Curry, but now I am pretty sure he was an angel. Dang, I wish I had my camera! ☺

what color do you need?

found this at kate i's place...interesting because i keep thinking i need to create a new quilt for my living room and purple continues to come up in the color scheme. hmmmmm...

You Need Some Purple in Your Life

Purple will make you feel ambitious, independent, and creative. And with a little purple, you will project an aura of individuality. If you want more extravagance, you've got to get a little purple in your life! For extra punch: Combine purple with green or orange The downside of purple: It can evoke sad feelings The consequences of more purple in your life: You will feel an increase in your artistic abilities You will find balance in the most chaotic parts of your life You will feel calm and will be hard to disturb

What Color Do You Need?

life cycles

I am home and something is stirring in me. I have been emptied this past week. I have poured myself out in an offering to others and I have allowed them to begin to fill me back up. It is a cycle of renewal. It is the beauty of birth-life-death and rebirth.

I never cease to be amazed at the touch of those I have chosen to surround myself with as well as the impact of strangers and others who have entered my life for only brief moments. This morning I read the post of a dear friend as she wove her experiences of grief, loss and life. I am reminded of my own losses. Some as profound as the loss of my beloved father when I was barely nineteen and the fast forward to losing my dear sweet, Curry. Other people and family members stir in my mind, but I am most profoundly struck this morning by the loss of people I knew for only a brief moment in time like the student who battled hard against me and then chose to walk away suddenly and silently. I still think of the man on the bus and another stranger in a small Oklahoma town who I knew for an hour and then we shared a prayer. Each touched me deeply by their presence and I can feel the loss of their absence along with the significant impact they made on my life.

Loss is indeed profound in our lives especially when we allow ourselves to acknowledge it and feel it. Feeling the loss leads to an emptying which then allows us to be filled with joy and other experiences of life. If we refuse to empty ourselves, the old stuff fills us to the brim and we find ourselves like an overstuffed turkey unable to move or a box filled to the brim just waiting to explode.

This past week, I unconsciously and deliberately chose to be emptied. And so I enter this day, this week, waiting to be filled. Not expecting anything. Just as I did not expect the beautiful filling I received when I read Christine’s post. There is something in accepting what we are offered each day. Not expecting grand results, but then looking back and seeing that we have been touched and filled (perhaps only a teaspoon full) simply because we allowed ourselves to really feel the emotion of a moment—perhaps our own or maybe that of another person.

Will you allow yourself to be impacted today? How will you empty yourself? What are the moments when you feel the inpouring of life? Consider grief. Consider joy. They each make room for the other ☺.

Blog Action Day

Poverty: the state of being inferior in quality or insufficient in amount.

Where do you experience poverty in your life? Do you listen closely to those around you? Do you feel that others listen to you? Do you go through life on autopilot, hurrying from one place to the next? Do you wonder what a blog action day about poverty has to do with you?

Consider this: When we are not fully present to the stories that surround us, we close off the possibility that there is something new to be heard or discovered. We close our minds and our hearts to the possibility that we have something in common with the child in Africa, the mother in Harlem, the Senator in Congress, the homeless man on the corner, our next door neighbor and even the person(s) who sleeps in our own warm house.

On this day of poverty awareness, I would like to pose that we experience a paucity of listening. How might our world be different if we fought the poverty against our own cold hearts of stone? What if we started listening more deeply today? How would the world change? How would you? If only for today, I hope you will choose to listen a little more closely to the world around you.

Peace.