As We Grow

Another summer has made its way through the ever-quickening calendar of my life and I am taking some time to reflect upon the moments that still remain ethereally suspended within my mind and soul.  It is strange for me this year.  Strange because the important string of Jewish holidays, Rosh Hashanah (the Jewish new year), Yom Kippur (a time for atonement and forgiveness), Sukkot (the Feast of the Tabernacles) and Simchat Torah (the joyous celebration of the Torah, the Five Books of Moses, and the rejoicing over the completion and new beginning of the weekly Torah readings) all essentially took place at the end of summer, when they typically occur in early autumn.  Sitting here with all of these significant holidays now in the past is making me feel as if I missed something and I am not quite sure what it is.  A good comparison might be if Christmas was to fall on Thanksgiving this year (which Chanukah will) and then when December twenty-fifth rolled around, the day was treated as just another day in winter, Santa sunning his tootsies in the Bahamas, Rudolph using his vacation time to visit with his cousins in the Alps ...It would leave you feeling quite a bit discombobulated, like you forgot something important even though everything on your list was already done.  Still, all is as it should be whether it feels like it or not.  Autumn has arrived, summer has passed (although the heat is still in the process of wearing out its welcome!), and all of my Angel Daughters are busy living their own lives while I am still trying to figure out where it is that I fit in.  There are so many things that nobody ever teaches us about being a mother, but I have found that one of the most poignant things is how to start up where we left off, after the children are mostly raised up.

And so, when the weather is permissive and not too hot or humid, I spend some time outside in our garden raising up flowers and plants and tomatoes and pumpkins.

And caterpillars who feast upon the Milkweed that Mark so lovingly planted for me this year.  The caterpillars who then, so much like my own daughters, spend some time suspended safely and freely in the Chrysalis stage.

Impermanent and changing seemingly before my eyes, into beings that I can sometimes barely recognize but that I know oh so well.

Until, there they are, fluttering with perfectly formed wings before me.  Flitting past my face every now and again as I stand outside watching, observing, hoping, praying and daydreaming.  More beautiful and vibrant than ever before but ready to fly off on their own leaving me to wonder how it all happened.  When it all happened.  And yet I know because if I shut my eyes tightly, I can go back to the so many moments in between, when it all happened and I can remember...

Back in June, Mark and I planted five varieties of tomatoes in clay pots on our patio.  We have done this before with fairly mixed results.  Last summer, we had no success as the plants succumbed to a fungus that overtook the tender leaves and prevented the flowers from budding into fruit.  This year, I decided to do a bit of research in order to discover some more disease resistant varieties and Mark made sure to nourish them with Miracle Grow every week.  I expended some of my restlessness gently removing any sick looking leaves off of each plant daily.  We have been well-rewarded for our attention to the smaller things, this year.

Other than this four inch Jurassic looking pest known as the Tomato Hornworm or the Tobacco Hornworm(the ones that I discovered on our plants were Tobacco Hornworms, YUCK!!!), we ended up with bushels and bushels of wonderful, organic tomatoes this year.  At first, I thought these caterpillars were just another possible variety of butterfly but upon closer inspection and a quick check on the Internet, we discovered that these little beasts were out to completely ravage our tomato plants and so they had to go!  I truly hate to kill anything but these little monsters would have killed our tomato plants and so Mark took care of the dirty work for me.  Yet another reason why I completely adore my husband.  Still, I did spend quite some time watching and photographing these little dudes as I had never seen one before and I found them quite fascinating in a gross sort of way.  And after eradicating these little buggers(I found two of them on the same plant), we were rewarded with healthy, bountiful tomato plants which have provided us with delicious tomatoes every single night for over a month now.  Regardless of what we are having for dinner each night, I slice up a melange of several tomatoes and we enjoy them.  We have also shared them with our neighbors(I had to leave them a note saying that if they did not want anymore tomatoes, to please let me know!), my doctors and our friends.  Quite the fabulous treat fresh tomatoes are!  To me, they taste like sunshine.

A couple of months ago, we also planted one pumpkin plant just to see what might happen.  The vine wrapped around our yard with elephant ear sized leaves and the bees did their jobs pollinating the flowers as they grew.  We had several pumpkins that began to grow but did not survive for a variety of reasons, but then, there was this one which proudly sits curing on our patio right now.  I will post another photo of it off of the vine soon.  The color is a vibrant orange and the size is very nice.(12.8 pounds!)  It makes me happy just knowing that it came from our garden.  There is another one that is doing quite well on the vine right now but I do not think that it will be ready for Halloween.  That is okay because Thanksgiving will be coming up soon enough and it tickles me to watch it grow and mature.  I am finding that gardening and taking care of our seven pets as well as the wild birds and squirrels, helps to fill the void of not being as needed by my Angel Daughters quite so much anymore.  And although the gardening is a fairly new interest that has only evolved over the past several years, it is a satisfying way for Mark and I to spend some time together, enjoying the ocean, working side by side, and producing something that we can enjoy and share with each other and with others.  Funny how our neighbors smile just a little bit brighter when they greet us since we have been sharing our tomatoes with them.  Such a simple thing and yet, it really is all about the simple things, isn't it?

The Angels are all doing quite well since I last posted back in June.  I did not set out to take such a long hiatus from blogging.  It's just that every time I thought about it or sat down to begin writing, I seemed to draw a blank.  Writing has always been one of my favorite ways to work out my own thoughts so it has been disconcerting for me to not be able to express myself through the written word and through this blog which I consider my little corner of the world.  This is something that I feel like I need to explore more because in the future, I would love to be able to complete a book that I would eventually be able to share.  Sometimes I feel as if the words become "stuck" and my mind tends to freeze when I sit down to write.  To me, it feels like fear, yet I am not sure what I am fearful of.  This is one of the things that I hope to work on in the coming year.  Maybe there is a chakra or something that is blocked within my soul.  I do know that the physical feeling occurs right in the center of my heart and extends down into the upper left side of my stomach.  It is an anxious sensation and once it hits, I have a difficult time moving past it.  Most of the time, I just go on to something else because it feels futile when I do not understand its origination to begin with.  I always feel much lighter after writing.  It is kind of like putting the words into a helium balloon and just setting them free into the universe. It is a very positive experience for me and yet, this stagnating fear... Definitely something worth exploring but I don't even know how or where to begin.  Anybody else dealing with this kind of thing?  I would love to know what you might wrestle with and how you manage to move past the fear.  Please feel free to share in the comments or email me if you have had any success in this area.  It really helps to hear from others who have been through, or might be going through the same thing.

In the photo above, my dad is standing in for Angel Daughter Number Four which is why he is squatting down.  It is his sense of humor which I cannot apologize for because I definitely inherited it.  I get him but I can always spot the poor individuals who just don't.  They usually aren't sure if he is kidding or being serious.  Then they look over at me.  The blank stares tend to give it away.  Sometimes I try to explain but it is usually futile because, well, he is my dad, and it is sort of hard to explain...

At the end of August, Angel Daughter Number Three began a new leg on the journey of her life.  Earlier in the year, she completed her AA degree from the local community college and was accepted to a University which is nine hours away in order to complete her Bachelor's degree.  This is something that I knew was coming for a long time, but still, having one of my children farther than a simple one or two hour car ride away has been an adjustment.  Especially this daughter because she has always preferred to stick closer to the nest which I also enjoyed.  I do know that this is the right time and the right place for her to spread her wings in order to fly a bit further from home.  The knowing does make it a bit easier, but I do miss the heck out of her.  Not only is she my daughter, but over the past couple of years, our relationship has also very naturally metamorphosed into a dear friendship which I love.  AD3 has gone through a lot over the past few years, but she has used those experiences to grow and mature and transform into an incredible young woman.  Obviously, we all grow and transform at different rates which is part of what made it so special to witness AD3's transition from adolescent to young adult.  She has done so with grace and beauty.

She needed to drive her car up to school, so the rest of us(minus AD2 because she had to be in Las Vegas for a business convention) all flew up to help her get settled in.

We brought the boyfriends who are also the brothers.  I still get such a kick out of that.  AD3's boyfriend was also turning twenty one that weekend, so we had a lot to celebrate!  I took this photo after mostly everything was unloaded into AD3's dorm room.  Everybody was hot and tired but they all did a great job.  The really nice thing about her dorm room is that she has her own bathroom!  No trekking down the hallway in the middle of the night or taking showers in those stinky little stalls with who knows what kind of yuck on the floor!  She has three dorm mates who she shares a kitchen and a living area with, but it is a very nice setup.  Even the furniture that the school supplies is cute!

There was lots of love...

And lots of sisterly giggles.  Lots of climbing up brick walls...

Hugs with daddy...

Smooches with the boyfriends;)

And of course, tears...

But mainly there was love and joy and lots of I'll see you soons which are all a part of the journey.  All part of taking flight.  All a part of our family history.

Our neighbors have half-jokingly decided that the Coastal Commission should declare our front yard a butterfly sanctuary as there have never, ever been so many butterflies metamorphosing on these bluffs before and our neighbors have lived here for twenty years plus.  Maybe it's the extra attention and love and care that Mark and I have directed into making our home an even more extraordinary and magical place.  Maybe it is the tomatoes and the roses and the pumpkins and the squirrels and the birds who are always welcome.  But it's definitely the butterflies.  The human ones who have transitioned into lovely winged angels who flew through the past twenty six years of our lives but still return for a good meal, a loving hug and some family history, past, present and future.  Or, maybe it is the Monarchs who I have been told will also return from year to year, to feast upon the imprinted cellular memory of the actual  Milkweed that they adore, to suspend themselves in time as they transition from caterpillar to chrysalis to butterfly and then deposit their eggs to begin the magical process over and over and over again.

Ah, the tender, lingering sweetness of it all.  

The Ties That Bind

It is June.  June is the month of my oldest daughter's birthday.  June brings summer and June Gloom and eventually, July, which is the month of my birthday and my brother's birthday and some unexplained and mostly unexplored anxiety which I do believe that I must take some time to understand this year.  My favorite grandmother passed away on my birthday several years ago, but I do not believe that that has anything at all to do with my "July anxiety" because it seemed to have started well before her death.  Sometimes, I think that my grandma's passing on my birthday was sort of a Universal pox on my irrational anxiety.  Like "Here.  If you are going to be all weird about your birthday and stuff, we will add something else, something more concrete that will make it even more burdensome for you."  Or, "You really aren't that important, Debra, so do not believe that other people celebrating the fact that you are still here to be celebrated means anything more than that you are just another year older."  Silly, I know.  And the interesting thing is that I love life, I really do.  And I understand that in order to continue having a life to love, I must also have birthdays to grow older on.  Like my grandmother always told me, if you want to live, you have to get old.  And it isn't necessarily the growing older part of my birthday that bothers me.  I do not mind that at all.  There are many benefits to growing older and wiser and more comfortable in one's own skin.  But while I am contemplating this, I must ask if there is anyone else out there who shares in this birthday anxiety?  I witness other people getting very excited about their own birthdays and I do, too, but it makes me wonder where my own apprehension might have come from.

So here we all are in the month of June.  Angel Daughter Number One will be turning twenty-six at the end of this month which is almost hard for me to fathom as in my own mind, she is still a very young woman.  Truthfully, I am finally coming to the conclusion that this child of mine is finished being a child.  This has been a somewhat difficult concept for me to grasp as she has always been so easy to mother which makes it even easier for me to continue doing so.(She is a pretty good sport about it.)    But she does not really need me to do that part of the job anymore.  I mean, I know that she will always need me to be her momma, but as far as the unasked-for advice, etc., etc., I would rather not sound like the adults in the Charlie Brown cartoons.  I am learning to back off.  I am learning that when she needs me, she will come to me.  I am learning that AD1 is pretty much cooked.  I definitely cannot complain. Look at my girl, she is self-assured, considerate, compassionate and beautiful.  As her momma, there is nothing that I could wish for her to be that she is not already in the process of achieving.  It is a little bit frightening to know that I am on my way out of a job that I have so loved doing for twenty-six years, but this is the truth whether I want it to happen or not so I might as well enjoy the process.

So I move on to Angel Daughter Number Two...My wild child, per say.  The one who can cause my heart to pound wildly in the middle of the night without logical reason, but just because I know.  And yet, she always seems to figure her way out of the dilemmas that are sometimes self-created and sometimes, not.  This child is twenty-three years old and although she will tell you that she has been "on her own" since she was eighteen, that is so not true.  She flies freely under the very watchful eyes of her parents and her extremely proud, extremely supportive grandfather even when she sometimes flaps her wings like a wayward bird whose wings have been temporarily clipped by her own impulsive actions from time to time.  I cannot say that this one is fully cooked yet, but I do have to watch the way that I respond to the manner in which she approaches the world.  It it very different, not bad, just different and unusual.  She is, after all, a creative soul and creative souls can have a very different way of approaching life.  AD2 is a free-spirit who views the world from a distinctive and much further elevated perch.(If she can get there, it is definitely worth the effort of the climb!)  I often find myself observing this child in the way that I would view a very beautiful, rare bird that loves the idea of self-survivial but needs the security of others to occasionally feather her nest(and fill her refrigerator).  She wants, so badly, to do things on her own, but she just isn't as ready as she sometimes believes that she is.(Sir, I was born ready!)  It is all good, though.  I know that AD2 is absolutely capable of amazing things, things that other twenty-three year olds could not even imagine achieving.  Being her momma is something that I know that I was meant to do, so I will do it in whatever way she needs me to for however long it takes.  Nothing could make me prouder or happier.

Angel Daughter Number Three just completed her AA degree from a community college, received her first "A" in math, ever, and will be moving on to attend a college that is nine hours away in August to complete her Bachelor's Degree in Psychology.(Just like her momma:))  In some ways, AD3 is our late bloomer, but she is also very thorough in making sure that she is comfortable with one step in life before she moves on to the next one.  It is going to be very difficult when she leaves, I am fully aware of that and I know that I will come down with another case of "empty-nest syndrome" when she goes.    She has been dating Zach for a couple of months now.  He is the brother of AD1's boyfriend, Matt.  They fell pretty fast and quick when they met and have been inseparable ever since.  I'm not exactly sure how the Universe is going to work this one out come August, but it is all part of the major scheme so I am confident that if they want it to work, it will.  Mark and I both really like Matt and Zach so if things are somehow meant to be, we would not complain.  Life has a funny way of working things out, so we shall see what happens in the future.

Angel Daughter Number Four...What can I say about this little bundle of teenage energy.  She is like a whirlwind of enthusiasm and kinetic chatter that bounces from moment to moment, place to place, leaving people smiling from ear to ear in her path.  And although she is in the midst of her final year as a teenager, she is finally now going through a somewhat rebellious stage.  I should have known that it was coming.  It is normal and healthy and necessary.  I was just sort of hoping that we could just skip that portion of the process with this mostly happy, mostly agreeable little soul.  AD4 is still dancing up a storm, going to college, and working while also keeping up with her full social calendar.  Her ability to bring people joy through the art of dance is mesmerizing and I am so proud of her confidence and skill.  I only hope that she takes full advantage of the natural ability that has been given to her so that she does not look back with any regret.  She truly is that good.

The love of my life.  This man whom I have spent the past thirty-three years of my life with.  We have been together since we were freshmen in college and have been married for almost twenty-nine years.  We continue to build a life together that is both joy filled and upbeat.  Yes, we definitely share in the difficulties that being alive throws at everyone, but we choose to deal with them in a way that allows us to keep the bright side mostly in tact.  We try to remember that we are always in this together and we do our very best to work as a team.  Most importantly, we remain deeply in love with one another and that is something that sustains us through even the heaviest of storms.

Even as we watch our four children walking into their own futures, we steadfastly remain two people who will share in ours together and in that, we both find deep comfort.

The pelicans have been returning to San Clemente, and with them, another season has passed and another June has arrived.  Watching my children leave and return and leave and return and then, eventually leave without returning alone, has been a process for me.  It has been a process filled with the bittersweet proclivity of both transformation and also, displacement.  I am excited about what is to come for them, but I am scared about where it will leave me in my newest phase of life.  Who will I be when I am no longer known as my children's mother?  Where will my own purpose lie when the most important job that I could ever conceive of in my life is mostly finished?  How do I discover who I will now become?  I have so much to learn and for the first time in my entire life, I am feeling a little bit lost.    I always knew what would come next...College, job and marriage, children...Now, I am just not that sure.  I've never had a role model to guide me.  No other woman to look to as an example of how it is all done gracefully, at least not one whom I know personally.  It's a bit disconcerting.  I know that I can rely on the support, love and encouragement of my husband and our daughters.  I know that they will cheer me on in whatever direction I choose to fly.  But where do I even begin...I have most of the tools, but I still need a compass, and a map, and a GPS, for that matter.

Happy June!

In Spite of it All

I think that my last post might have left the impression that I am in a bad place which could not be much farther from the truth of my life.  I might have been too close to the actual moment when I wrote that particular blog post, but the inner turmoil that accompanied the experience lasted for a fairly short time, most especially after I decided to post what I wrote instead of hiding it away someplace which is what I have done in the past.  My mother is who she is and I am who I am.  I accepted this a very long time ago.  I try not to fight the facts.  I try to get along with her except when I just can't.  And I try very hard not to burden myself with guilty feelings that are mostly invalid.  My relationship with my mother is a constant work in progress and I know that if I do not figure it out during this lifetime, I will most certainly have to deal with it again at some other time in some other place and that is something that I just cannot put myself through if at all avoidable.  I have also come to the conclusion that it does not help my body to heal when I try to shove the emotions that my mother often elicits in me back down into my gut because they almost certainly rise back up to my heart after a period of time and this is when I seem to become depressed for no apparent reason.  Then I must dig and dig until I unearth the issue that is really bothering me when acknowledging it right away might have actually made things so much less complicated.  And complicated it will always be.  If it's not one thing, it's your mother...

My life is really good.  I have been forced to face some pretty tough stuff this time around, but really, who hasn't?  We all have our own stuff, some of it harder than the rest, but it is ours to learn from.  If we can accept the lessons, if we can notice when the same issues seem to reappear, if we can absorb the knowledge in spite of the frustration and the pain, then, and only then, do I believe that we get to move on. I want to move on.  I want to grow and transform and evolve.  I try to pay attention so that I can do this.  When the same lesson seems to reappear in varying forms, over and over again, I believe that there is more to be learned from it.  I do not say to myself, "Oh no, not again."  That would be futile and quite a waste of time.(Albeit, quite tempting!)  I do often wonder, "Why this time?" and then I try to figure out another piece of the equation.  I also know that I cannot change my mother.  I  know that the likelihood of my teaching her anything carries fairly dismal odds.  And sometimes I have to think that maybe this is more about my mother, at this point, than it is about myself.  Maybe I have gotten some of it.  Maybe she has not.  When we are placed in certain relationships throughout our lives, especially one like the parent/child relationship which is one of the closest physical bonds that there is, the job is both to teach and to learn. Lord knows how much my own four daughters have already taught me over the course of the past twenty-five years.  If these same lessons keep appearing and reappearing with my own mother, maybe it is because at seventy-one years old, she still has something very important to learn and I am just the teacher.  For now, I am at peace.  It is very easy for me to love my mother from afar.  Mother's Day is coming up which will, once again, open up all sorts of windows and doors and cracks in my walls but I am allowing myself a breather.  I check in with her by text a couple of times a week which helps to alleviate any sense of obligation on my part.  Mark writes out and mails her check at the end of every month.  I am not dwelling.  I am not beating myself up.  I am not allowing this to eat away at me from the inside out.(Thank you, dear Angella, for bringing to light the cat eating my turtle's leg meaning from my dream.  It makes so much sense to me now!)  I am enjoying my husband and our girls and my father which is far more important to me than the parts of my life that have not yet worked out the way that I would like for them to.

A couple of weeks ago, we went out to Palm Springs to celebrate my dad's seventy-fourth birthday.  I am glad that he is not seventy-three anymore.  My grandfather died when he was seventy-three and for some reason, my father was burdened by the thought that he would pass away at that age, as well.  He obviously had a major scare not too long ago, but he is still here.  We are all more than grateful for that.  I know that I can no longer pretend that my dad is always going to be here, but at least I know that he is here with us for now.  That is something worth celebrating.

Even though he still bites...Just cannot help himself!

Angel Daughter Number Three and Angel Daughter Number Four took the opportunity to have an impromptu dance with their grandfather in the middle of the bowling alley.  It's how they roll, and face it, the man loves to be surrounded by beautiful women.

Angel Daughter Number One is such a gorgeous young woman now.  She brought her boyfriend Matt out to Palm Springs to celebrate with us.  We really like him.  He is a very bright young man who comes from a lovely family.  He is working on his doctorate right now so the next year is going to be pretty hellish for him but if they survive this year together, who knows what might happen:)  Matt has a younger brother, Zach, who may or may not be dating AD3 right now!  They met at Mathew's family seder which we attended, and they took a liking to one another right away.  It's only too bad that there aren't two more brothers in their family.  I'm just saying...

We had dinner at Arnold Palmer's restaurant in Palm Springs.  Lots of golf memorabilia and good food.  No Arnold, though.

My husband is my rock and my touchstone.  He keeps me grounded.  He knows when I need to be left alone and when I need to be spoiled a little bit.  He makes me breakfast in bed almost everyday of the week.(oatmeal and orange juice with my vitamins on the side)  I guess after thirty-three years together, we know each other pretty well.  Sometimes he worries about wrinkles and thinning hair(his, not mine), but I really do not mind one bit.  I think he is the most handsome guy alive and I've met Rob Lowe up close and in person;)  I would still go home with my man every single time.  My life is good, not perfect, but good.  And that is exactly how I like it.

Rock

 There are times when I choose to envision God as my Rock.  Solid and strong, steady and unyielding, tenacious enough to support me in even my most weakened moments.  Sometimes, when the tide is out far enough, enormous boulders appear grounded securely beneath the ocean's sinewy surface.  I have observed them so many times that I can see them in my mind's eye by shape and color, location and texture.  I know that they are always there even when they are covered in a mingling of water and salt, seaweed and sand.  I know that they are there even when I cannot see them for they have been there each and every time that I have witnessed the receding of the ocean to a place in which the typically covered sea floor becomes exposed and what lies beneath is uncovered for a few precious hours.  Sometimes, after storms, the tides seem to be drawn out even farther exposing the constant rock formations which are always there whether I choose to believe that they are or not.  It is not up to me to declare that these formations are there for them to be there.  They are there.  And in their presence, I can either pretend to believe that they do not exist when I cannot see them, or, I can simply acknowledge that which I am temporarily unable to see.  In one way, I am viewing the universe by only that which I can see in front of me.  In another, I am trusting that even that which I cannot see still remains.  Have I ever seen God in the way that I can see the rocks that are only sometimes exposed beneath the receding tides.  My simple answer is yes.  I have seen God in my husband's eyes on the night that we first met as his soul was momentarily exposed as someone who would soon after become my rock for life.  I have seen God in my daughter's faces as they were laid upon my chest only moments after their births, souls still as familiar with God's voice as they were with the sound of mine.  I have seen God in my brother's peaceful, almost serene looking face soon after his soul had been released from his earthly body only to head back to from where it came.  I have seen God.  And this is why I choose to envision God as my Rock.  He is there whether I decide that He is or He is not.  He is there whether I can see Him or I cannot.  Just as the rocks which remain steadfast upon the ocean floor whether covered or exposed, God is always there and He anchors me in times of deep sorrow.

This past Saturday, our congregation lost our beloved rabbi to cancer.  He was the rabbi for our congregation for the past nearly thirty years.  He was our family's rabbi for well over twenty-plus years.  He was there when our daughters were born.  He was there as our daughters went through Hebrew school.  He was there when Mark converted to Judaism enjoying some very lively debates with my somewhat conservative husband but treating him like a new found son.  He was there when Mark and I renewed our vows for our fifteenth anniversary.  He was there to Bat-Mitzvah our girls and when I felt called to volunteer as a Spiritual Care Counselor at our local hospital, I felt a sense of pride from him as he talked to me about our patients.  And today, Mark, myself, and our four Angel Daughters were there with the rest of our congregation to wish his soul a remarkable journey and to thank God for having lent him to us for as long as he did even though it did not seem nearly long enough.  I envisioned him officiating at the girl's weddings someday...

These photos are two that I was quickly able to dig out this afternoon after returning home from the funeral.  They were taken almost twelve years ago at Angel Daughter Number One's Bat-Mitzvah when she was just thirteen years old.(And yes, all of the Bat and Bar Mitzvah students were just a little bit frightened of rabbi.  Well, maybe a lot frightened.)  A couple of years ago, Rabbi and I became "Facebook friends" and each time I would post something about one of my daughters accomplishments he would be one of the first people to "like" it.  He would often leave me notes of praise about my girls and I could always tell that he was "kvelling" about their talents and achievements.  The last time I saw him, we were standing outside of the synagogue talking briefly after the High Holy day services in October.  He was frail and quite pale and much softer-spoken than he had been in the past.  But he could not let me go without telling me how much he enjoyed our exchanges on Facebook and how much he loved being able to keep up with the girls through my posts.  My two oldest daughters went on to "friend" him after that, and they too, began to receive "likes" from our rabbi.  He was the proud "father" of hundreds of people.  Thank you, dearest Sherri, Steven and Gavriella for sharing him so generously with all of us.  It could not have always been easy but you all did so with such grace and benevolence.

As I immerse myself in the deep sadness of our rabbi's death, I will cling to my Rock knowing that rabbi is no longer suffering, no longer in pain and is now in the company of God and the angels who he spent so much of his life teaching about and trusting in.  Rabbi Krause always knew that God was there, but now, he knows that God is there and that is something that I pray his family can take some comfort in as they do their very best to soldier on without him here.

I Kissed a Girl and I Liked it; Well, Sort of~

When we first met up with Jen, Jack, Kate and Gretchen, they were exhausted, overwhelmed and covered in Disney pixie-dust.  They had spent the day shlepping around Disneyland, Moo-Moos and all, and as wonderful as that can be, it is tiring beyond measure.  Jack snuggled into each one of us as he dreamed peacefully about flying, about all of the stuff that nine year old boys dream of after a busy day at Disneyland. When he woke up momentarily, he crawled sleepily into my lap, looked at me with his  big, gorgeous brown eyes, and took the Moo-Moo that he was holding and wrapped its fuzzy legs around my neck.  Before I received a hug from my boy, I received one from his loyal, somewhat stinky, but oh-so-well loved friend.  I melted into a puddle of mush.  Jack is not that much shorter than I am, but he fit perfectly into my lap.  We sat heart to heart as Jack sunk back into blissful slumber, clinging to my neck the entire time.  I kissed the top of his precious head more times than I can count, knowing that I would not have as much of an opportunity to do so once he arose from his sleep.  Jack is, after all, a nine and a half year old boy.  He smelled like sweetness and boy-sweat and angel, all in one.  An intoxicating nectar which captured my senses on a level that I can hardly describe(especially being the momma of only daughters).  I sat for a few minutes taking it all in.  This boy, our boy, who I hadn't seen since he was under a year old, felt like one of my own.  Somehow, the embrace lined our hearts up perfectly.  I could feel the unbridled energy of this little boys heart connecting with the rhythm of my own and it was good.  I could feel our hearts connecting as if to say, "Ah, there you are."  Jen always said that she felt as if Jack and I were kindred spirits.  When the food showed up at our table, I refused to let go of Jack's sleepy body so my beloved husband cut my food up and fed me careful bites over Jack's fuzzy head.  Jen also took turns placing bites of chicken gently into my mouth while Angel Daughter Number Four bonded quickly with sweet little Kate.  Kate, Jack's sister, is six and does not really like to have her picture taken, but I snuck in some cute ones with her permission, later on.  The restaurant was noisy and full of other people, but the love at our table was affirming and intimate.  After a while, a long while, I asked my husband if he would like to hold Jack.  We passed him gently as he continued to sleep, a mixture of Disney-fatigue and strong pain medications.  I watched Mark cradle this precious boy as they fell into one another.  The look on my husband's face described the bittersweet feelings in his heart.  So sweet.

Jack woke up when Jen and Gretchen were collecting their luggage from the hotel and he asked me if he could ride home in our car.  He sat in the back seat with AD4 wearing his Mickey Mouse Pirate ears, chatting, asking lots of questions and cuddling.  When AC/DC came on the radio(My husband loves rock music!), Jack asked if we could turn it up.  He tapped his hand on his knee to the pounding rhythm of the music and watched out the window until he spotted a Carl's Jr. sign in the distance.  I asked him if he wanted to stop and he said YES!  He could have asked for the moon and we would have found a way to lasso it for him.

We set everyone up in our beach house and left them to rest the day off.

The next day when we got back to the house, Jen was taking pictures of Jack in the perfect sunset.  Angel Daughter Number One and Angel Daughter Number Four hopped in for a few shots.  We told Jack to give AD4 a kiss on the cheek.  After a bit of coaxing and cajoling, Jack gave in reluctently.

Since we were on a role, we asked Jack to give AD1 a kiss so that she wouldn't feel left out.  He started to get the hang of it very, very quickly!  Soon, he was giving out kisses without making the face.  He is such a trooper!

Well, sort of.   Here is how Jen was really able to convince Jack to kiss on the girls.  She used something a bit more tangible in the mind of a nine and a half year old boy, crafty mom.  Bribery!  When Jen began to renegotiate the terms after the kisses were already deposited, Jack started to get very upset.  Somehow, the forty dollar price started to come down as Jen reminded Jack about some of his outstanding debts.  His displeasure only lasted a few minutes and then, Jack was back to being his happy, smiley self again although I wasn't quite sure why.  After all, he had been duped into kissing not only one girl, but two!!!  

It was then that I noticed the two men with their heads together, my dear husband looking a bit satisfied with himself and Jack, holding his handmade, duct-tape(guys and their duct tape!) wallet in his hand.  When I asked Jack what Uncle Mark had given him, he sheepishly withdrew a $100.00 bill(Dad, you would be very proud.) from inside of his wallet.  Mark, understanding Jack's anguish over having negotiated a price for some photos and kisses, immediately pulled Jack aside, told him to share the money with his sister, and slipped a $100.00 bill into Jack's hand.(Sorry, Jen)  But there could be no price too large to satisfy the heart of this precious little man.  He is a unique old soul in a young, failing body who landed upon this earth to teach us all so very much.  Quite honestly, I think he would have kissed the girls cheeks without being bribed, but don't tell any of his friends that.  We will just leave it as an understanding between two men, and a $100.00 bill tucked safely into a duct-tape wallet.  That is their story and they're sticking to it.


*More information on how to follow Jack in the post below.

What Falls From the Tree of Life

I sometimes feel naked and transparent as I navigate my way from the darkness into the light, from darkness into light, from darkness into light...And at nearly forty-eight years old with four daughters of my own and a loving, supportive, fantastic husband to turn to, there is still someone else whom I feel the absolute need to turn to when something threatens to break my spirit, castigate my soul, reproach my heart.  There is still someone whose opinion, approval, encouragement I must have in order to feel more confident in my own decisions, someone I often feel pulled to turn towards after I cry into my husband's shoulder.  Someone who I am so much like, that he is often a mirror of my own soul.  A reflection of who I have been and who I might someday become....

Someone who helps to shield me from the darkness.  Someone who leads me back into the light.  Someone who I speak to on an almost daily basis and who occasionally leaves me strange and cryptic comments on my blog that only I would understand.  Someone who I will never stop needing for as long as I live.  My dad.

Thank God my four daughters have been blessed with the same kind of man.

And at the end of the Day, Life is Very, Very Good

*Angel Daughter Number Three

For all that I have been through...Must still go through...These are the faces that make it all worthwhile. My growing daughters. My Angels. Each a singular being unto themselves, but also a part of something bigger. Much, much bigger.

*Angel Daughters Number Four and Number One

Beauty, growth and transformation...

*Self-portrait of Angel Daughter Number Two

With each step towards their independence, I envision what is possible, and I take a step towards mine, knowing that our futures will forever be intermingled.

*Self-portrait of AD2

For we are all headed there anyway. Towards our futures. Even in this second, this minute, this hour, this day...So why not head there with acceptance, togetherness and joy?
*AD4 and AD1. Our cat Callie. Baking Chocolate Chip Pumpkin Bread together.

Creating. Working together. Learning from one another until we forget who knew it first.
*Angel Daughter Number Three

Stopping to share a moment even on the busiest of days. Reminding one another that we are family.
*Angel Daughter Number Four

Incidentally, it might be the eyes that give it away.(that we are family)

*Angel Daughters and their Dad, my Love.

Or the group hugs.

*Micah-Ten months.

Or someone's constant need to make everyone else in the family laugh.(Sorry, Micah:))
*San Clemente sunset on October 24, 2009

But at the end of the day, life is good. Very, very good. Because that is the way that I see it.

And regardless of all the background noise that sometimes tries to muck up the music, the soundtrack of my life, of our lives together, will always be We are Family(by Sister Sledge). And if you happen to be someplace with us and that song comes on, be prepared to DANCE with abandon. Because that is what we will do.

I am one very lucky woman.