An unusual positive childhood memory

Hi cherubs:

Sorry for the long time between posts. Most of my childhood memories are pretty horrible. But there is one that is not. Perhaps it's not the only one, but it's one that I was reminded of tonight. I was watching a program about solar winds and I was reminded about the blackout that occured in the 1960s, which I believe was caused by solar activity interfering with power grids.

The entire eastern seaboard of the US was knocked out, not to mention Canada. So I came home from school, and I did my homework by candle light (the teachers gave us extra credit for that, by the way). Then, my mother began to play the piano. She had all the old songbooks that had the folk tunes (What shall we do with the drunken sailer etc) and we were all there around the piano, singing our hearts out. We hardly noticed the blackout. The neighbors were there and we were there and we were playing and singing. It's a wonderful memory. I remember my brother John next to me singing (my brother Tony was not yet born) and I remember the candles and I remember that we had cooked dinner for many people because we had a gas stove and others had only electric.

Mom played and played. We sang and sang. It was great fun. It's one of the few happy memories I have. I am grateful, so grateful for that memory.

Best wishes dearest cherubs.

Dear Dad

Dear Dad:

You are dead now so I don't know if you can hear what I have to say. I'm hopeful that you can.

When I was a very little girl, I used to ride with you on the subways of Boston. Back then, the subways sometimes flashed what I called "lightening" during the occasional explosions caused when the connections got over heated. So we'd be riding along under Boston's busy streets, and the "lightening" occured and I would burrow into your shoulder to seek comfort. Your strong arm would go around me and circle me with what I thought would be endless protection. Alas, that protection was brief. Or perhaps, my need was brief. It's hard to know which came first.

I shared your classroom. I spoke to your students. We were both educators. This we shared. That is how we connected. I was not young for very long.

Dad, you made many mistakes. I forgive you. You did the best you could. You were affected by your own childhood. This is something I understand now. I am also affected by my own childhood, or lack thereof. It has closed my heart, and encased it in stone. Somebody, somebody please find a hammer.

It's easier for a daughter to forgive a father. At least, that's what they say. At least, that's what they say.

Happy father's day dearest cherubs.

M.

I have to say how I feel

Hi all who wish to follow:

I am cleaning my house. I am throwing my past into a dumpster. It is painful. It is incredibly painful. I was not really prepared for this pain.

Perhaps, it is because I have no way to know what the future brings. Perhaps, it is because I blame myself for many bad decisions. Perhaps, it is because I did not expect, personally, to be thrown into the dumpster. But yet, I was and I have been. I have been thrown into the dumpster myself, and it has merged with the pain of broken dishes, broken dreams, and a broken life.

However, I have not given up. I am still here. I still have wonderful friends, and colleauges, and many other gifts. There could be worse things. I'm sure there are worse things. But tonight, the pain is deep and gut wrenching and overwhelming. It is hard to be grateful for gifts, when you are facing your past in this way.

But dearest friends, I am still here, and this morning I awoke on the correct side of the ground. I have good friends who are helping me and for them I am grateful. But I must admit, my heart is broken. I did not think my heart could break like this, but it has and it will, and it continues to break.

How in the world I will survive this I do not know. But I will continue to try. I ask for your love and support. Warmly dear cherubs, and with lots of love, Margaret

It's a new post for a new time

Dearest cherubs:

I cannot know what to tell you. My life is what it is. But I surround myself with history, and that history speaks to me.

I am deeply moved by many things. I see things happening and I guess, I think that I think those are the things that should happen. Yet how can I know?


I simply accept, and yet, perhaps I should not. So I ask you all, perhaps you should not also. Don't just accept. Wonder why. Wonder why. I am wondering why. All my love to you dearest cherubs. M.

In the Sweet Spring

One must hope. And when you go outside, the twigs are greener. They cannot break, they only bend. Quietly they breeze their way through, but yet they cannot prevail. I must prevail. I have no way to really get there, but I ask for mercy. I want to go away soon. I want to go to warmth, and love and less judgement. But there is the reality, and the reality is that it is not there yet. Not yet.

Winter's Back Broken

Cherubs:

I have felt the sun's warmth on my face twice now, so I am hopeful that winter's back is broken. Why do think this? Here are the reasons:

1. I can see my driveway.
2. I can see parts of my backyard.
3. I feel that I can worry about things other than whether or not my house will stand up.
4. I have found time to see people and relax with people.
5. I am grateful to be alive.
6. I am grateful for my friends.

I guess that's my list. I guess it's the list of spring. I am grateful for everything. Winter makes a person grateful. But spring is a greater instigator in my humble opinion.

Lots of love cherubs.

This winter and what it teaches us

Cherubs:

It's been a toughie for those of us residing in the northern part of the USA. It's been a toughie for those of us residing in the southern part of the USA also.

The hard part is, when the storm comes up the coast from the south, we get bashed here in New England, we get bashed badly. And my humble little town is right in the path of the bashing.

So, because I am instructional designer and because I care about learning, I always ask this question -- "What can we learn from this?"

We learn about resiliance. Resiliance is a wonderful word, that describes our ability to cope, to persevere, to endure, to even improve. Yes, resiliance.

I have improved my ability to get up in the morning. Yes, contracting has improved that (no work, no pay) as well as my ability to say ok, this is what must be faced during the next storm.

I have improved my ability to think positively, "well perhaps this last storm will not crush my house", that kind of thinking.

I have improved my ability to understand what human beings can endure. And this brings me to my daughter who is enduring many things.

She is a young adult, and so needs my assistance to help her forward. This is an obligation all of us have who are parenting young adults. Remember, their world is not the same as our world of more than 30 years ago. We had no internet, we had no "social network" save that which we could experience in the eye, face to face. We had dances, dates, interactions, but not this kind of removed from direct interaction, ummm interaction.

We must adapt.

We must understand.

And Facebook, for me, has assisted me in doing that. Many of my highschool connections have now evolved into ummm for want of a better word "real people". We are compassionate, loving and caring. Our lives as human beings have caused us to be so. But we may not have been so back in high school. But we are now, and I guess that is all that matters. And we have rediscovered each other in this new state. How wonderful is that?

I am grateful to Mr. Zuckerman for this opportunity. And it also causes me to understand my daughter and her social connections. I am here for her, and I am here for you.

With all my love, from my wintery world.

Dearest cherubs. Goodnight.