August 31, 2013 § Leave a comment
At funerals, I listen for the notable phrase or description, stuffed somewhere in an hour’s worth of prayers, hymns, and bible verses, that embodies the deceased’s personality or the immense love felt for him or her.
In the last two days, I attended funerals for my friend Jason’s mother and for Pete, a hometown neighbor. This is what I’ll remember:
- Jason’s sister read a letter from their mom’s friend who was unable to attend. The sister, a former actress, wonderfully captured the friend’s voice and their mother’s whimsical, sweet, and sometimes mischievous personality. I’m not quite sure how she was able to stay composed, only wavering a bit toward the end, but finishing with flair and poise. I didn’t applaud, but wanted to. Many — young and old, men and women — brushed away tears.
- The church was packed for Pete, whom I’ve known since toddlerhood. She was friendly, extroverted, fun. One daughter aptly described her as the equivalent of a Walmart greeter at the apartment she moved to a few years ago. Another daughter said, “To Mom, no one was a stranger; they were just friends she hadn’t met yet.”
Small moments, yes. But they’ll stick. And that’s all we can hope for once we leave this magnificent, crazy world behind.
August 31, 2013 § 1 Comment
Best uses: iambic, idyll, imbroglio, insouciant
Source: fire truck
August 30, 2013 § Leave a comment
August 30, 2013 § 3 Comments
Personality: class clown
Best uses: jabberwocky, jejune, jodhpur, jujube, juxtapose
Favorite movie that begins with “j”: Junebug (2005)
August 29, 2013 § 3 Comments
A lovely word, kismet. Six little letters in perfect order unveiling a cheerful cadence. When said, people light up. I light up. Comfort, commitment, wonderment, happiness weaved through its meaning.
* * *
I admittedly place too much weight on others’ perceptions of what I’m doing (or not) to find love. Many say I’ll find it when I’m not looking. At one time I took solace in these sweet reassurances and spent years not searching. Now I just nod at these sentiments and secretly flush them down the crapper.
Others insist I put myself out there more, go on dates with any warm body, wear more mascara and lipstick. While I agree I could do better, I find most people who give me this advice have been out of the dating pool since college or their early 20s. Newsflash: Our 40s are not one big frat party. It’s a backyard BBQ with kids screaming and couples nagging. Surreal and scary? Yes. Do I want that? Absolutely.
In my defense, I’ve tried online dating several times but put that adventure aside in the depths of winter after general disinterest in the men I met. I instead focused on doing what I love, putting myself in the often uncomfortable situation of attending events alone (gallery openings, book readings, running groups, etc.) just to meet like-minded people.
While I’ve enjoyed these excursions, nothing has led to love or even a crush. And I adore a good crush. A reason to curl my hair, take risks, and count the days until we meet again.
* * *
I’m feeling extra sensitive about my single status because in the last several days I’ve met people at work and social functions who’ve asked how many kids I have or what my children’s names are or who’ve said, “when you have kids…” Either they don’t realize my age or are just being kind, but having reached my mid-forties, motherhood just isn’t a realistic option. I suppose I could have had them years ago, but single parenthood was not something I had the energy or desire to tackle at the time.
And while I’m okay with being childless, I grow weary of my singleness. I keep hoping kismet in the form of a friendly, smart, witty man (preferably with a dog) collides with me on the sidewalk and sticks around for eternity.
Everyone tells me he will. I have my doubts some days. So I return to that word, kismet, to light up again.
August 29, 2013 § 1 Comment
Personality: outlandish, hysterical, tomboyish
Words that begin with “k” that are fun to say: katydid, kazoo, kielbasa, kismet, kiwi, knish, kohlrabi, kookaburra
Photo source: my mountain bike