My funny Valentines
February 14, 2011 | Family,Holidays,Valentine's Day
I have the sweetest Valentines in the world.
I have the sweetest Valentines in the world.
This was the last poinsettia I’ll ever get from my mother on my birthday. She and my father had been doing it since I was born. Then, after Dad died, it was Mom.
See, I was born in December. Ten days later, they had me in church for baptism. They had poinsettias on the altar that Sunday. And they sang something about roses … oh, I don’t know. She’s told me the story a dozen times, and she told my children the whole story again last birthday. I didn’t ask questions. Nor did I write any of it down. I just know that my birthday and poinsettias have always gone together.
Now? Not so much.
Mom died this morning at hospice. She’d been under hospice care (at home until a couple of weeks ago) since May. She’d been dealing with health problems and cancer for a few years. The picture was taken at her 70th birthday party at our house in October 2009.
I recently read Enlightened Sexism: The Seductive Message that Feminism’s Work Is Done (Kindle edition) by Susan J. Douglas. It was perfectly sandwiched between Reshaping the Work-Family Debate by Joan Williams and Reality Bites Back by Jennifer Pozner. If these three women don’t know each other, they should. Susan? Joan and Jennifer. Joan and Jennifer? Susan. I’d love to invite you all to have coffee and start that conversation Joan talked about in her book. I’ve got a few other people I’d like to invite, too.
Anyway.
I adore Susan Douglas. I read her book, The Mommy Myth, five years ago. I laughed out loud. I cried. I seethed. And I did all those things again with Enlightened Sexism.
I highlighted a ton of quotes, all of which I could share here. But you know what? I’m so far behind on everything. This has been hanging out in my drafts folder for a couple of months. The simplest thing for me to say is that I highly recommend this book. I highly recommend anything Susan Douglas writes.
The first blizzard of 2011 is howling and prowling outside my home right now. My husband is on the interstate somewhere, and I’m hoping he’ll make it home tonight. How many blizzards did we have last year … 10? 12? I lost count. While I’ve driven in low-visibility conditions before, wow. I can’t say it’s ever been as bad as it was today.
This? Is the school parking lot. They started pulling schoolchildren off the school buses and kept them at school because it wasn’t safe to send the buses out … on the streets. It was bad.
This was our visibility on the way home. I drove 20 miles per hour.
The kids helped watch for the house, which we never saw.
We could barely see the mailbox.
But, hey. There’s the sun. Whee.
We visited my aunt and uncle in Missouri over the holidays. While we were there, we did some sightseeing and saw this eagle.
See the antlers? It’s a Rudolph car! Merry, merry, everyone!
You know how someone says something that’s simply perfect? Linda Lowen just did that in her post about Elizabeth Edwards, Saying Goodbye to Elizabeth Edwards and Remembering Dana.
Let me just say that some things were simply meant to just … be.
A summer day spent on a beach with two close female friends may be special in and of itself. But we’re unable to retain a sense of the magic of that individual day when we see it as just one of many in a long line of bright, beautiful, shining days ahead of us, the days hanging like pearls on a strand, the years dangling like multiple strands on a necklace. It’s only when we take that one pearl out of context and suspend it on its own chain that we see how rare, how lustrous, and how small a thing it is.
Beautiful. Thank you, Linda.
I read The Mermaid Chair by Sue Monk Kidd for book club this month. I was a bit annoyed with the main character and the monk … it just seemed as if they tried too hard. But I really enjoyed the story, and the author surprised me, which is always a bonus. The best thing about book club (besides the wine) is getting an explanation for something from another person’s point of view and realizing, wow, that is so true! I don’t like to do spoilers, so I won’t explain in detail. I’ll just say that I got another perspective on the main character’s father … that his act was selfish instead of selfless, as it was portrayed. Brilliant.
What is it about reading books lately about midlife-identity crises? I didn’t even pick this book! In any case, here are a couple of quotes that stuck with me.
The mind is so good at revising reality to suit our needs. I had seen what I wanted. I had reinvented the objectionable, the most indigestible pieces of my life into something just palatable enough to bear. (p. 246)
I can’t explain that, except to say there’s release in knowing the truth no matter how anguishing it is. You come finally to the irreducible thing, and there’s nothing left to do but pick it up and hold it. Then, at least, you can enter the severe mercy of acceptance. (p. 304)
Oh, yeah. I also read the Norwegian version, Havfruestolen, which my friend Else gave to me this summer. The translation was actually very accurate (which isn’t always the case).
The kids and I finished reading Doctor Proctor’s Fart Powder by Jo Nesbø. He’s one of Norway’s most popular authors, and this is his first children’s book. I read one of his grown-up books (he writes mostly crime novels) in September and thoroughly enjoyed it. We had lots of giggles with the fart powder too.
He’s got another Doctor Proctor book coming out in January. Whee!