Connecting Generations Through Memories. There once was a time, long before social media, when a secret could be kept secret. Thiswasn’t always a good thing, especially when silence allowed people to harm others. I amnot talking about those kinds of secrets. I am touching upon the difference betweengenerations ago and today when it comes to personal and familial privacy. A few years ago, I hosted an all-female art show while working at a retirement village. I had artists of all ages from high school to senior adults with various forms of paintings, photographs, and other media. One piece was a colored pencil drawing of a clothesline with a variety of clothes being blown and dried by the wind. It didn’t connect with me, until one of my wise residents shared her memories and read the poem thataccompanied it, by Marilyn K. Walker:
Embracing Bridal Showers It was during the COVID shut down when my two sons were engaged to their future brides. One of my first tasks as mother of the grooms was to host a bridal shower. May Isay, I am not a fan of bridal or baby showers. I believe them to be torturous and didn’t want one when I was a bride or new mother. It’s awkward being the center of attentionand exhibiting social etiquette to people you rarely see and hardly know. However, as a bride, I went along with the tradition and did my best to look up when prompted by my maid of honor even though my head felt like the weight of a bowling ball. It’s a miracle I survived the spotlight. But when I became pregnant, I put my foot down and never had a baby shower with all three pregnancies. The challenge for me was to conjure up the inspiration to have a bridal shower, not because I didn’t want to shower my son’s fiancés with a party and gifts, but I just wasn’t into the planning, hosting, silly games, and small talk. The whole process drains me.
This is about me answering the call for action!
When loved ones are gone, the home is sold, and health teeters from bad to worse, can holiday
magic and joy still exist?
If I could have only one aspect of the holidays, it’s time in the physical presence of my children and their families. My children shared the best part of the holidays is my cooking. That works for me.
If you tell me “no” there’s a good chance I may ask you why. And if your why is a variety of
excuses or because you want to exert your power over the decision,
Gratitude and Thanksgiving in November.
Let’s dedicate the whole month to giving thanks and headspace for thoughts of gratitude.
A poetry reciting cowboy who restores vintage motorcycles… let’s unpack this over a campfire
after corralling the horses.
Life takes a wild turn when our thoughts manifest a serendipitous moment.
It’s a wild ride watching unplanned connections unfold into perfect alignment. A dear friend recently started creating pieces of artwork inspired by his love of music. He’s always been an artist, specifically a sculptor, but with his recent diagnosis of ALS, it’s not possible for him to create as he once did. Seeing his struggle, someone suggested that he express his artistic talent on paper rather than through the larger, more physically aggressive sculpting media. Thank you to the smart soul who recommended this therapy and to his beautiful wife and sister who nudged him along. His initial sketch was of his son as a child - a full-faced, wild-curly haired, little boy. The work was raw and captured the sweetness and energy of his child. This was his first pencil drawing since his days in school, and in the making of this piece, at a time of