Bookworm

A Letter to Newtown

Dear Newtown,

You don't know me and I don't know you. But I am thinking about you every day, ever since Friday, that day that will forever be a "before and after" date in your lives. I cried at my desk at work as I saw the news stories. I prayed. I emailed my daughter's principal to tell him I don't think our school is safe enough. I superstitiously counted down the minutes until I knew my husband had picked up my precious girl from school. I'm sorry for interjecting myself and my fear into this, but it is wound up like a coil of braided rope with your story, your loss,  your unimaginable pain. 

It is tempting to say that I can't imagine what you are going through. But it is the truth, instead, that I can. Every thing in your house will be reminding you of what you have lost. You will go to sleep at night -- I hope you are able to get at least some sleep -- with a pit in your stomach and wake up feeling the same way. You will be numb, then crying, then angry or perhaps just numb and trying to care for other family members and shoving everything down deep inside. You will have to be making choices and decisions you never, ever thought you would have to make about your beautiful child's funeral. And you almost certainly have a hidden stash of presents whose intended recipient will never receive them.

I wish that my words, my prayers, the moments of silence at my work meeting this morning, and at our church service yesterday could actually do something, anything to ease your pain.

While I'm sure whatever part of you is functioning is somewhat aware of the outreach of the nation and the world, it's possible you are not. That your computers and phones are off. That you are putting one foot in front of the other. 

All I can think of is to list the names of those lost and end with the most heartfelt and inadequate of phrases, "I am so very sorry for your incalculable loss."

This day, we remember:

Charlotte Bacon
Daniel Barden
Rachel Davino
Olivia Rose Engel
Josephine Gay
Ana Grace Marquez-Greene
Dylan Hockley
Dawn Hocksprung
Madeleine F Hsu
Catherine V Hubbard
Chase Kowalski
Jesse Lewis
James Mattioli
Grace McDonnell
Anne Marie Murphy
Emilie Parker
Jack Pinto
Noah Pozner
Caroline Previdi
Jessica Rekos
Avielle Richman
Lauren Rousseau
Mary Sherlach
Victoria Soto
Benjamin Wheeler
Allison N Wyatt
 

~ Laura D.

2013 Lists

I was prompted to make these lists after reading Karen Grunberg's post. Year end is always a time for contemplation for me anyway. It's nice to get some of this written down. 

What do I want to learn?

• How to draw
• How to art journal

These two things are similar. I'm not sure exactly how I want to implement this yet. I sometimes let myself get hung up on the details. One sketchbook, one art journal? Use what I have, even if it's not perfect and determine what I might want the next journal or sketchbook to be? What materials do I want to use? Will I go my own way or take a class? A combination? 

What do I want to do more of?

• Cooking -- None of us are going to eat healthily enough if I don't cook more. All of us will eat vegetables if I make them. Need to make this a higher priority. 
• Exercising -- I've lost weight, but I'm out of shape, big time. Time to step up the exercise. 
• Taking photographs -- The more photos I take, the more I will have that I love. 
• Reading -- Losing myself in a book is one of the best ways to relax and de-stress. I need this.
• Writing -- Try to revitalize the little online writing group that is on the verge of extinction. I don't know if it's due to lack of solid "deadlines" or boring ideas or no accountability to each other. 
• Singing and/or playing the piano
• Talking with my husband -- We talk better on the phone than in person sometimes (which is crazy) because we're not as distracted by other things. 

What fulfills me (or honors a value I have)?

• Time with my family and friends
• Going to church
• Reading
• Taking pictures
• Scrapbooking
• Writing
• Learning

 

 

BYH | prompted by S.H.

I rarely post on this section of my blog anymore, but more personal long-form stuff seems to fit better here. Stephanie has written a Blog Your Heart post and invited us to join in. It always seems like a good idea, ya' know? Even if I don't share much personal stuff here normally. 

1. It hurts my feelings that neither of my sisters sent me a birthday card or a gift or called me. Both of them sent a Facebook message saying they'd call and neither of them did. Seriously? 
2. I'm grateful for my job and our health insurance, but I wish I could be home more. I'd love to work at home, part time, and be there after school, instead of having G. go to the after school care the three days her Daddy is teaching in the afternoon. But I'm grateful that we have affordable care right in town, even if there are things we don't love about it. 
3. I'm proud of myself for having fit in some exercise three days this week. I never feel like it, but not only is it good for me, but it's setting a good example for G. Now I need to encourage either a fitness center membership or a treadmill for the house, so K. will get into a routine, too. 
4. The first month of third grade is over already. I'm glad G. still wants to tell me things about school and all the interpersonal drama that goes on between her and her friends. I don't remember that aspect of elementary school. I love that she will tell me things like, "I have a crush on Jeremiah." 
5. There are so many important conversations to have with G. I want her to have information and ask questions, but I know that once she knows about how babies are made, she will be less innocent and look at the world differently. She's eight. There's only so long I can put this off. For now, I answer things as they come up. I want things to be in the proper context -- i.e. this is something special to wait for when you get married -- but she has classmates whose parents weren't married when they were born (and has asked me about that.) Aside from the religious aspect, I told her that having children is such a big commitment that you want to make sure that you have a strong commitment and relationship and friendship with the person who will be the father of those children and that I feel having children within a marriage is the very best thing to do. 

Blog Your Heart | A Melancholy Week

Everyone is keeping it real this week. Stephanie has invited us all to blog our hearts and post the link in her comments to this post, so here goes:

My heart is heavy this week.  The tenth anniversary of 9/11 hit me harder than I expected it to do and I was caught in a web of sadness and remembrance all day Sunday.  I don't think it was unhealthy to remember and allow myself to feel what I was feeling, but it kind of cast a pall over the beginning of the week.  Last night we received word that my husband's aunt has cancer which has spread and this morning learned that this means she doesn't have long to live -- perhaps three months.  She is 62.  We lost our brother-in-law earlier this year at the age of 59.  

I feel selfish because all of these things make me think of my own mortality and that of others close to me.  How much I want to live to be around for my beautiful daughter for a really long time.  How I can't imagine a world without my Mom or Dad or husband or sisters in it.  How I fear illness and disability and death.  How I dread those things happening to my loved ones.  How hard it is to cling to the promise of Heaven, to have faith in things not seen.  

[My main blog -- updated more regularly than this one -- is here.]

 

Reverb 10 | Day Two | Writing

Prompt: Writing. What do you do each day that doesn't contribute to your writing -- and can you eliminate it? [Leo Baubata]

I'm wrestling with this one a bit.  Leo is a writer, so it makes sense that this would be the type of thing he would ask himself regularly.  I am not a writer by trade, so should I be asking this about my professional work?  About my favorite hobbies/avocations?  Or should I quit wasting time and answer the question?

Most of my daily activities do not contribute to my writing.  I choose not to upend 90 percent of my existance in the service of my writing, therefore I am not sure anything will change with regard to this in 2011. 

I do enjoy writing.  I tweet, I blog, I write email to friends, I write stories that become part of my scrapbook pages.  Writing a book would be on my bucket list, if I had one.  I would like to work at home as a writer and photographer, but my deep desire for stability and the ability to support my family will likely keep me in my current profession until retirement age. 

If writing a book is important enough to me, at some point it will rise to the surface.  I will become as engaged with writing that book as I currently am with scrapbooking and writing will become my predominent passion outside of work. 

Reverb 10 | Day One | One Word

Reverb 10

December 1 | One Word.
Encapsulate the year 2010 in one word. Explain why you’re choosing that word. Now, imagine it’s one year from today, what would you like the word to be that captures 2011 for you?

Document (v.)

Earlier this year I chose the word "document" as my word of the year after reading a blog post on Ali Edwards' site.  This was to be the year I finally started scrapbooking pictures and stories about our lives. I've filled three scrapbooks, taken two online classes, and subscribed to another site that offers continuing inspiration and design education. This continues to feel like very important work to me.  These stories have value and will continue to have value, even if just to me.  Since my daughter is an only child, she will not have siblings to fill in the gaps of half-remembered childhood Christmases.  I want these scrapbook pages to do that for her.  This hobby pulls together my love of writing, photography, and creativity -- I am completely enraptured.

Live

The downside to doing a lot of documenting this year is that it is time-consuming and my time outside of work and other responsibilities is limited.  In 2011 I want to make sure I am not turning down opportunities to make memories, live my life, and spend time with loved ones simply so I can retreat to my den and create in solitude.  I am such an introvert and cherish my quiet time.  But my little girl is growing up and these are precious days to spend in her company while my husband and I are still high on her list of preferred playmates.  I want to answer "Yes," more often when she asks, "Will you play with me," or "Can I hang out with you?" 

Schuyler's Monster by Robert Rummel-Hudson

This afternoon I finished reading Schuyler's Monster: A Father's Journey with His Wordless Daughter, a nonfiction memoir by Robert Rummel-Hudson. I could have read it more quickly than I did, but wanted to savor it.

I've been reading Rob's online writing for years and had followed the news of his upcoming book with great interest.  There are a few bloggers/journalers I've followed for so long that I know more details of their lives than I do some close relatives.  The Internet can be a strange phenomenon that way. 

It's the story of the beautiful Miss Schuyler, Rob's and wife Julie's daughter, who has a blazing spirit, a vibrant personality, and a "monster" in her brain.  The monster's name is congenital bilateral perisylvian syndrome (CBPS) which falls under the umbrella of disorders called microgyria.  After some rocky times when their separate, yet equal, pain almost drove them apart, Rob and Julie became a force to be reckoned with and centered their life around finding a true home for their family, specifically a school system where she wouldn't be forgotten or marginalized.

The book basically blew me away. This is no "blogger book" -- this is a book.  So, go read it, already!

Silence

Recently, Schuyler has begun to outwardly express her own awareness of her monster. She has this thing she does now to explain it, a whole story told in gestures and sign language. She gently touches her throat and shakes her head. She then touches her head with her finger (the sign for "think") and then draws a line down to her mouth, signifying how the things she wants to say don't make the trip from her brain to her mouth. I like how she recognizes that her voice is broken, but her mind is working. It's important for her to know that her thoughts are there, and they are magnificent. [Fighting Monsters with Rubber Swords: No Blue Fairy.]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The mama was happy because the baby wasn't crying.  And the baby. wasn't. crying.  So I wrote in the chart 'patient may be out of bed in mom's arms,' which was a flimsy, ridiculous order, but the only order I have written in the past two weeks that's actually been worth a damn. [Six Year Med]

These two posts were near each other in Google Reader this morning and they both made my heart ache. 

Letting Go

I've been working on decluttering my den for ages.  I have a hard time letting go of pieces of paper sometimes and find it remarkably easy to acquire them.  Articles from newspapers and magazines, letters and cards, notes and papers from college, concert programs, ephemera from trips.

Some things I'm organizing.  All my correspondence is in hanging file folders with the correspondent's name on it.  I also scanned a gigantic binder of letters for electronic storage.  Items that I want to scrapbook I will also organize in folders. 

Some things I'm dumping, such as saved articles.  If I truly think I'll want them again, I'm either scanning the hard copy or finding it online. 

You wouldn't think it would take a great deal of introspection to get rid of some of this, but sometimes it does.  There are multiple reasons for this, but one major one is that if I get rid of articles on a topic I once researched in school, it's like saying I'm not that person anymore, I won't ever pursue anything scholarly again.  But how insane is it to keep pieces of paper just as a badge that says I might write a scholarly paper sometime?

In the closet I have a small collection of Sports Illustrated magazines with Yankees-related covers.  I collected them during the time in the late 90's when the team had such success.  Now, I really feel ambivalent towards them.  I still follow the team -- I guess I don't feel the need to keep as much memorabilia related to them.

We have storage cupboards in the living room.  One of them is half-filled with records, as in LPs and 45s.  We have a turntable, but it's not part of our current stereo setup.  I can't remember the last time it was used.  Over the weekend, husband was musing about whether we even needed our tape deck anymore.  We should probably get rid of the turntable and the records, for sure.  There's great "content" there, but we're never, ever going to take the time to digitize it.  We're too lazy to even have the turntable set up.  And our little kidlet could certainly use more storage space for her many toys and puzzles. 

I guess watching Clean Sweep on TLC has infiltrated a bit, especially the concept that you should keep what's special to you, what's unique and irreplaceable, and get rid of things that don't have meaning and are keeping you from enjoying your living space. 

The magic ingredient for a fulfilling life is . . . - lifehack.org

Link: The magic ingredient for a fulfilling life is . . . - lifehack.org.

Why rush through life? Do you want it to be over so soon? Doesn’t it take time to appreciate its joys and experiences?

    * Time to learn. Time is necessary to learn, to think, to reflect, and to internalize fresh ideas. The more you rush, the more you are forced to stick with what you already know.
    * Time to think. Time to plan, to prioritize, and to choose how best to expend your attention and energy. Doing anything in haste increases the risks of missing key elements, making needless mistakes, and wasting effort.
    * Time to enjoy. Rushing through an experience robs it of most of its value. Gobbling down a fine meal, leafing through a work of literature with more than half your mind elsewhere, allocating 10 seconds to see the sunset. You might as well not bother.
    * Time for others. It’s not only unpleasant and callous to deny the people close to you your time and attention, it’s downright rude. Why do so many relationships break down nowadays? My bet is that those involved simply don’t allocate enough time to spend together, learning how to enjoy one another’s company.
    * Time to be creative. You need time to reflect and see the links between items or areas of knowledge. The human brain doesn’t work well with disconnected ideas or pieces of information. In all those “gaps” where they appear to be doing nothing at all, the world’s outstanding creative minds are hard at work reflecting, ruminating, “noodling” with odd ideas—tinkering with patterns and unexpected connections. What you see as the result is a mental iceberg: nearly all the activity that brought it about is hidden below the surface.
    * Time just to be. This is the only life you have. How much of it have you missed already because your attention and energy were elsewhere? How much will you still miss, because your days are so filled with activities that there’s no space left to just to live?