Thursday, May 16
Today is not a day where I can spout beautiful words and create soft imaginings.
Today is a day of sorrow and grief for me.
There has been loss.
The first loss was not so grievous, yet I still felt its weight. JayLynn left yesterday for her volunteer trip to an Island far away. She'll be helping kids, building sidewalks and enjoying some adventures. I can only be joyful for her....and yet, here I am without my backup. I discovered quickly that limited communication between us is not our pattern or desire. I was proud to help pack her bags, buy her travel insurance and drill down into all the logistics I love taking care of for her. But at the end of the day, she is gone and I am here, wondering and praying her journey will fill her with wonder, steady her in trial and open up a space in her heart that she never new existed.
The second loss is more heart-wrenching. A young girl gone. Getting caught in the darkness of her soul and not finding the crack in the wall. Family was close by, watching, holding to hope, not realizing how close she was to falling. If I lived in another time, in another place, I would rip my clothes and pour ashes over my head, raising my arms to the heaven's to cry out in anger. Oh God! The young woman are falling, how can we help them? What words would I have said? Would it had made any difference? What kind of hold does this darkness have the even the brightest hope of light slips away before it can be grasped? How can we hold tight to these young girls and give them a lifeline in their darkness, when the only sound they can hear is the beating of their desperate heart?
In a blink of an eye, they disappear. I'm left to mourn and rage with others who see the vast throng of desperate hearts and cannot reach them all.
The sea rushes in and out like a child breathing. I can hear its rhythm and feel its pull. It lulls me into believing I am safe in its depths, but when I am pulled down into its wake, I flounder, and discover there is danger past the foam and wave.
Saturday, May 25
Today is a new day, a week after the grief of last Thursday.
Today is my baby's birthday.
20 years ago she grabbed my heart and although I didn't hang on to hers as I should have, she kept the faith in me and kept holding on. I have tried to encourage in her in the light of day, to hold her in the dark night, to love her when my heart was broken. I believe she knows my weakness as she discovers her own. She is a colourful soul that makes me laugh and sing soft songs of hope. She has persevered when all seemed lost and found her heart's desire.
Today I want to give thanks for the beauty and strength of both my daughters. They could have been lost in the beautiful ugly of our journey, but they both stood strong in the current and didn't give up.
They are my hope, my faith and my love.
Until next time,
Lady Jane
Saturday, May 25, 2013
Monday, May 6, 2013
They Call It Stormy Monday
Well dear friends, here we are. Stormy Monday.
Its not really storming here where I sit in my Italian villa overlooking the azure blue Mediterranean Sea, but its Monday none-the-less. Saturday passed, Sunday passed, and I found myself sitting here alone, having missed the soulful weekend guests, who usually venture out to chat with me on my well-worn sofas.
I apologize.
I had good intentions, but time became a tyrant and drove me like a stormy whirlwind to Monday. I fought hard against it, praying for a brief reprieve to just sit and engage with you, but to no avail. I was overtaken!
I hope this Monday finds you ready to face another week, your weekend having filled you with what was needed to get you here.
I posted a Facebook status on Friday encouraging my friends to "hold books with pages, mugs with steam, and hands that know your secrets" during their weekend. I had some of you answer immediately, but I was hoping more of you might want to share with me, so I could envision what you did or might have done with these three intriguing initiatives.
What books did you hold?
What mugs or cups did you partake of?
What hands did you grasp that know your deepest secrets?
I held a few books (as is my usual custom, but less so this weekend due to ballet shows and off-load food truck sales) but the pages I turned the most were from The Forgotten Garden by Kate Morton. The story captivates me as it twists in and out of different time eras, and winds itself around a writer of fairy tales whose personal story ripples into future generations.
I partook of a steaming coffee on Saturday morning, which is my tradition, but also sipped from a delicious shaken lime margarita on a sunny patio Sunday night in celebration of the Mexican holiday, Cinco de Mayo. Both beverages were delightful and satisfying in their own time and purpose.
Last, but certainly not least, was the hand I held. My eldest beauty, JayLynn, sighed her typical "mother, really?" as I grasped her hand on Saturday and professed that she alone knew all my deepest secrets! Her sudden alarmed glance made me realize this is a very solemn and somewhat disturbing undertaking for a first born daughter. I quickly revised my statement, reassured her that she actually didn't know ALL of them (as children never should), and confirmed the Baroness, in fact, was the actual gatekeeper of my secret locker. Relief was apparent.
Your mission this week, should you choose to accept it, is to share with me your weekend selections, and if you have not done so yet, what would you have picked and who would you have held? All comments are welcome.
It satisfies the soul of words, the sense of taste, and the heart of connection.
Until next time,
Lady Jane
Its not really storming here where I sit in my Italian villa overlooking the azure blue Mediterranean Sea, but its Monday none-the-less. Saturday passed, Sunday passed, and I found myself sitting here alone, having missed the soulful weekend guests, who usually venture out to chat with me on my well-worn sofas.
I apologize.
I had good intentions, but time became a tyrant and drove me like a stormy whirlwind to Monday. I fought hard against it, praying for a brief reprieve to just sit and engage with you, but to no avail. I was overtaken!
I hope this Monday finds you ready to face another week, your weekend having filled you with what was needed to get you here.
I posted a Facebook status on Friday encouraging my friends to "hold books with pages, mugs with steam, and hands that know your secrets" during their weekend. I had some of you answer immediately, but I was hoping more of you might want to share with me, so I could envision what you did or might have done with these three intriguing initiatives.
What books did you hold?
What mugs or cups did you partake of?
What hands did you grasp that know your deepest secrets?
I held a few books (as is my usual custom, but less so this weekend due to ballet shows and off-load food truck sales) but the pages I turned the most were from The Forgotten Garden by Kate Morton. The story captivates me as it twists in and out of different time eras, and winds itself around a writer of fairy tales whose personal story ripples into future generations.
I partook of a steaming coffee on Saturday morning, which is my tradition, but also sipped from a delicious shaken lime margarita on a sunny patio Sunday night in celebration of the Mexican holiday, Cinco de Mayo. Both beverages were delightful and satisfying in their own time and purpose.
Last, but certainly not least, was the hand I held. My eldest beauty, JayLynn, sighed her typical "mother, really?" as I grasped her hand on Saturday and professed that she alone knew all my deepest secrets! Her sudden alarmed glance made me realize this is a very solemn and somewhat disturbing undertaking for a first born daughter. I quickly revised my statement, reassured her that she actually didn't know ALL of them (as children never should), and confirmed the Baroness, in fact, was the actual gatekeeper of my secret locker. Relief was apparent.
Your mission this week, should you choose to accept it, is to share with me your weekend selections, and if you have not done so yet, what would you have picked and who would you have held? All comments are welcome.
It satisfies the soul of words, the sense of taste, and the heart of connection.
Until next time,
Lady Jane
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