Here on the frontier, There are falling leaves, Although my neighbors are all barbarions…And you? You are a thousand miles away. There are always two cups on my table.

Archive for the ‘Relationships’ Category

Most Don’t Matter

Now I am a 60 year old white female . a resident of Baltimore Maryland for over 30 years and until this incident I have never encountered racism of the sort you are about to read in all  these years.

 June 30, 2020 I  stopped by Home Depot to pick up some dirt

This June day I went straight to the check out lane. I smiled at the check out person and said “Good Morning, I need  to purchase 4 bags of ‘Miracle Grow Garden soil’. The young check out girl seemed distracted like she didn’t hear me. So I said. “Excuse me Miss? Miss?” Was this child hard of hearing? I didn’t understand what was going on. She was looking off in a different direction. Then she says, ” I can’t help you?” “well that’s ok I just need a few bags of ‘Miracle Grow Garden Soil’ see it’s right here” I pointed it out on her picture layout register screen. But she was having none of it. She picked herself up and walked away. I looked at the line of customers behind me, every one of them black. Not one would meet my eyes. I see.

I guess the joke was on me. A 20 year old black girl wearing Gucci sweatpants and on the job, is claiming her revenge on a period of slavery she never experienced with a 60 year old white woman with parents having escaped Hitler’s concentration camps not even 80 years ago. As for this girl? Does she matter? No, she does not. Does she matter because she is black? No. she does not. Does she deserve respect? Yes. she does. because she is God’s child. Does she deserve a job at Home Depot where she can play out her racial biases? That’s a question for her manager. As a rule none of us matter. What is it to matter anyway? Mattering is a human choice. If you are lucky enough to have family then you might matter for some years. But you know people pass. I don’t matter. I know that. My dog Cujo matters. Because my dog matters I’m going to euthanise him soon. He’s peeing all over my apartment and his breathe is terrible with gum disease. I know he’s in pain but I love him so much. But the vet says it’s time. So, I have to.. he matters… anyway As a rule people don’t matter. If your goal in life is to stand in the street and cry you matter that’s a soft dart. Want to hear something really huge about yourself. I mean Mindblowing!!! Get Ready! Sit Down! Each and Every one of You is Sacred!  Much better then making everyone say “Okay Already, you matter! Can we go home now?!” Non-Believers? No worries, you don’t have to believe in God or Church. He believes in you! God chose to create each person that’s here. God Chose you individually to be here! You lucky stiffs, with this realization the people of this world have no choice but to look upon the faces of one another and show honor and grace, kindness and understanding.

You are perfect.

So when you see one another, Sacred souls that God chose to put on this Earth, remember most people don’t matter to any person maybe not even to their own self, but each is sacred and loved by God, so honor him with kindness and understanding, exercise your own sacredness.  

Remind yourself, God loves him as much as me. Be kind. Be the sacred soul you are. Let your true greatness shine and become the person you were born to be. I promise you will feel your heart grow with the understanding of Truth!!! That this is why you are here…and this is why you were born…. and that’s the only thing that really matters.

Children Grow Up

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Can Hoo get more awesome?

Three years old already.

Where does the time go.

The Chef, The Professor and Bart the biofuel guy.3 of my children.

The Chef, The Professor and Bart the biofuel guy.
3 of my children.

Now the big boys.

Yesterday they were kicking each others legos over and fighting like crazy midgets.

Now Chef is a daddy. Professor is soon to be a daddy and Bart is getting married come summer 2013.

Whew it was a long haul with those three plus the girls.

I don’t miss those years.

But being a grandma is quite precious.

I am grateful for every crayoned sticky wrinkled work of art Hoo presents and I hang it proudly on the refrigerator door.

This is gmom,

peace out

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Photo: Summer In Hooville

 

Hoo the “Merchant of Good Cheer”.

This is gmom,

peace out.

Let Go And Let God

Demolition of a small hut in our backyard.

It was a hard job.

Husband told me to leave it be.

But it was a fair Sunday,  and baby Hoo was sleeping.

So I took up a hammer.

Being unfamiliar with demolition I circled the hut a few times just swinging the hammer and thinking ,

“How do I do this?  How do I do anything?  I just do it.

Piece by piece.  Board by board.

Husband came home surprised to see the hut gone.

“You did that ? You couldn’t take down the hut!”

I could and I did!

It’s like my big sis taught me years ago when we got a rejection letter from a private school for one of my boys. She said,”What are you crying about, grow up, no does not mean no.”

Really?

She was right. I fought for an acceptance for my son and he went to that school.

Don’t tell me what I can’t do.

Oh but the  seismic challenges of the last few months.

A son losing his way.

A daughter walking into a relationship that was so very wrong.

The evil pain creeping from my back to my leg and settling in my foot.

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Let go and let God.

That I have learned, and this I know.

Challenges?

Get out of my f**king way.

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Son.  My beating heart.  Keep your head up.

Love and service, baby. Keep saying it.

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Pretty little girl will one day see that love knows no bounds. Only time and distance lets children scope the scene of their sad day when parent wrenched their sorry behind away from trouble.

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My personal enemy? The creeping fire.  Pain.

I will walk through it to drop to my knees so baby boy Hoo can reach me,  and I him.

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It was a fair Sunday.

The hut needed demolition.

I took up the hammer and brought the hut down.

Just let me pull nails, and crack wood.

Let me struggle under the weight of heavy wood.

This is gmom,

peace out.

I Need You Mom. No I Don’t. Yes I do.

Rose. Age 21. Daughter number 3, sixth child.

Fell off a moped during the final afternoon of labor day  beach vacation.

Broke both right forearm bones.

Road Rash” up and down her legs.

Drove her back to Baltimore to Union Memorial Hospital and the best upper extremity surgeons on the East Coast.

Now she has some hardware in her arm. A plate, pins and screws pulling the broken pieces all together. It’s been a long couple of weeks.

Before her surgery, she cried. I spoke softly to her and said the prayers from her childhood to comfort her.

After her surgery I slept by her. Gave her the pain medications, help her with all her needs, took her to the doctor and made repeated calls to him when she had questions.

I wiped her tears as she saw the track surgical scar run down her arm and the new shape of the back of her hand.

I handled the insurance company, her school medical leave letters and hooked her up with a decent physical therapist.

Now it’s 3 weeks post-op and the girl is back to normal.

Offended if I ask her if she wants me to cut a tag off the back of her shirt.

The cuddle-muffin who lay in my bed night after night is angry that I appeared at her PT appointment.

Miss Independent is back and I am left wondering if that momentary bond we shared when she was in pain and scared ever really happened.

Montessori Daycare For Hoo

 

Hoo started to attend a Montessori daycare program.

Can you say “Baby Yoga”?

It’s a step up from his earlier daycare to be sure.

Great facility, well run with trained staff.

Could we ask for more? Uh uh.

His late afternoon caregiver is a very serious Russian woman who takes her responsibilities very seriously.

Each day I get a “poop-report”.

How Hoo napped, what and with whom he played with and his general disposition.

Today when I picked him up she gravely intoned in her deep Russian accented voice,

“Hoo deed not eet hees lunch. Hoo only eht hees rahzohns.”

She somberly shook her head.

He only ate his raisins?

(Yikes!)

I’m not quite sure what to do with this information,

but it sounds like Hoo is off to the gulag if he doesn’t get his noon chow down.

 

Husband And Wife

Husband took gmom away for an escape to a seaside hotel ala waterfront view. Good food, nice amenities and a jacuzzi.

A lot to be said for stepping out of the fray of home life however brief. It was 48 hours of him and me. Hmmm.

We are a couple that are family centric. Putting out fires continuously with our kids and business. Keeping the American dream in site but damn if it’s always out of reach.

But for 2 days, we slept late, and turned off the phones, did just what we felt felt like.

Watched the water.

The sun setting on the bay.

I found my balance reflected in his eyes and he didn’t flinch or turn away.

My heart beat slow again when I felt his warmth surround me in the night.

This is gmom.

Renewed and a happy camper.

Peace out kids.

Cujo The Dog, MSW Petting Optional

Say something Cujo

For the second time in as many weeks a young woman showed up unannounced at my door. The first time she came she  said she was returning a CD that was borrowed long ago. She lingered (in the middle of my workday) until finally I asked her if she was running away from home. Lingering? I don’t know what to do with. Running away? I can handle. She left quickly after I asked. My kids always say I’m too blunt.

Today when she showed up  there was no CD to return. It was just her.

“Running away again?”

Can I just come in for a while. I just need a place to cry and have some quiet.

I sat with her for a moment while she pet ‘Cujo The Dog’.

“Do you want to talk?”

No, but can Cujo stay with me?

I showed her to the den, gave her a box of tissues and a drink.  She patted the couch next to her and Cujo jumped up and settled in by her side (traitor).  Furry traitor.

About 2 hours later I heard her call to me that she was leaving.  She smiled as she bid her farewell to ‘Cujo The Dog’.

I don’t get it. Cujo is alright as dogs go but when I share my problems with him he lies on the floor and puts his head under the couch.

“Hey, You’re suppose to be helping me here, not hiding under the couch!”

Oh well, that’s life in the fast lane. What we can’t do for each other we can sometimes do for a stranger.

This is gmom and Cujo ( The Traitor Dog),

peace out.

By the time a man realizes that maybe his father was right, he usually has a son who thinks he’s wrong. Charles Wadsworth

When China was a little bug, (my daughter not the country), her sleeve caught fire. We were lighting Hannukah candles when she reached over the burning flames. I slapped the burning sleeve out. Husband and I examined her burned sleeve and her arm amazed that the flames never touched her skin.

Something similar happened to Egg, (my second daughter not chicken fetus). We do a lot of candle lighting in our religion. She wanted to blow out the Sabbath candles when her hair caught on fire. My mother standing nearby and I brushed the fire out as fast as it started. Egg was fine.

She turned her 3-year-old self around and smiled at us wondering why we were patting her head. She never knew how close she came to setting herself on fire.

If you are a parent then you know what I’m talking about.

You’ve swept food out of little mouths before they choked. You’ve caught your child mid-fall in the playground and set them on their feet to run and play.

For older kids. We fill the gas tank when we know they are going out. We check the tires. Twice.

The 17-year-old boy that comes to pick up your 14-year-old daughter for a date!?

That boy never makes it in the house! You know what I’m saying?

We watch out for the foreseeable problems our children are headed toward and run interference.

Kids, they are like the quarterbacks running with the ball. They may not see their teammates (parents) behind them tackling the opposing players, but they are there.

Funny. If a touchdown is made they dance around like monkeys. If an opposing team member takes them down they are just as likely to look around at their own team(again,it’s us,parents)  and say, “Where were you guys?”

It’s often a thankless job parenting. Until our kids have children of their own they may never understand why we do what we do.

“I’d catch a grenade for ya, put my hand on a blade for ya..”.  Heard that song?  It shouldn’t be a boyfriend singing to a girl.

It should be the parent’s anthem.

This is gmom.

peace out.

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Norway. Now What. Gmom’s Thought’s From Baltimore

For those following my blog.

Husband is home.

Mission accomplished.

I may be able to loan him out to FEMA. He is good.

It’s quiet in Baltimore tonight. Warm and sweet. Cujo and I are doing our usual patrolling of the grounds. Heat lightning is firing every few minutes.

Unless you live under a rock you have heard about the atrocity that happened in Norway on Friday. A lunatic planting bombs in Oslo then went on a killing spree at a youth camp.

Security is not tight in a country unused to such violence and better known for awarding the Nobel Peace Prize and mediating in conflicts, including the Middle East and Sri Lanka.

Breaks gmom’s heart.

Man dresses up like a police officer to gain access to the summer camp than mows down the kids with an automatic weapon.

In Boro Park, New York a few weeks ago, 8-year-old Leiby Kletsky walking home from day camp was picked up by a man who murdered and dismembered him. He put the boy’s body part’s in a red suitcase and kept the child’s feet in his freezer for himself.

In the search for Leiby, 3000 people hit the streets. A store’s surveillance camera caught the boy going with the man in to his car leading the police to resolution of the case. The boy was an orthodox Jew, the man he went with wore a yarmulke and looked liked an orthodox Jew.

Here in Baltimore recently there were 3 cases of men banging on residents doors saying, “Baltimore City Police,open up.” And the people did. People were tied up, men were shot, homes ransacked.

Use to be you could tell children if you are lost go to a woman.

(Now we have Casey Anthony on the street)

Use to be you could tell children if you are lost go to someone in a uniform.

It’s a different world.

What do we tell our children now?

This is gmom,

peace out.

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