The “Love and Hate List”

Again, I found this entry in my journal.  This journal by the way, was intended to be given to my children to have when I am no longer here.  Kind of like a mish mash of feelings,poems, and thoughts about what my kids mean to me.

I gave my mother an empty  journal book (they were called “Anything Books” in the 70′s) as a gift for a birthday or Mothers Day, because I knew she liked to write.  She loved it and used it, and I found it after she passed away.  Our family used it to read at her wake as there was an entry where she listed all the things she hated in life, and all the things she loved.  It helped everyone know who this woman was, there were some things that were even funny!

And so, I did the same.  I thought it would be interesting to share with you all the things I love in life, and all the things I hate. I’m sure there are more I could think about, but have not listed. Anyway, you might relate to a number of these, and hopefully you will make a list for your family, someday.

Here goes:

I Love:

*Spring and how the smell of lilacs permeate the air when it finally arrives.

*Birds singing in the morning and having windows opened with the crisp morning air blowing through the screened windows.

*Butterflies

*Carousels and the way they can make you feel like a child all over again.

*Quilts and anything that can be handed down from generation to generation (Artwork and writing included).

*The smell of a country gift shop when you first walk in. The potpourri smell that overwhelms you and I can never seem to duplicate.

*coffee

*chocolate

*Shows on television that have  good family values and morals (not many anymore).

*Anything old-fashioned.

*Antiques and antique stores.  I can never get over the fact I am touching something from years past. I try to imagine the person that owned the item.

*Pina Coladas

*And getting caught in the rain (:) ha-ha) Not really!

*to hug and be hugged

*being at home and baking

*horses and cows

*The Amish,their beliefs and traditions and how they always seem at peace with themselves.

*Pennsylvania- the beautiful countryside as far as an eye can see. The flat,rolling patchwork of corn and greenery. The feeling of calm that I feel when I take it all in.

*Making a big deal out of my kids and when other people make a big deal of them. They’re great!

*My husband-for being my rock. A very thoughtful,loving and guiding person.  He brings out the best in me.

* Christmas and all that it brings-the excitement,the lights and all the smells.

*Having friends over and sharing a laugh over chocolate martinis.

I Hate:

*Winter after Christmas-you can keep it!  (Then there is no more need for snow,in my eyes) January through April have to be the dreariest and longest months ever!

*Bees and spiders!  (Thank God for Raid!) Sorry!!

*My hair,because it was always too thin and could never do anything with it.  Always a fight!

*My penmanship (ask anyone).

*Schedules and making them,even though I know it should make life easier, it seems like work to me.  You do accomplish more, but I hate them anyway.

*Thunder and lightning.  I’m still scared to this day.

*Tornadoes. I haven’t seen one in real life, just on the The Weather Channel,  The News, “The Wizard of Oz” and in my nightmares (not kidding)…and I would like to keep it that way, thank you!

*The newspaper and reading all the bad things that are happening in the world.  It scares me sometimes how some  people can have such disrespect for a persons life.

* Fear  and how it can keep you back from doing something you really want to do. Also worry-I do this alot and it’s a waste of time.

*The highway and watching all the nutty people fly by.

*The clock and trying to beat the time everyday-it’s a drag!

*Cloudy, rainy days that go on for a week.

Well, there it is.  I know I could add more to both lists, but that could take forever.  See how doing this can really let you know alot about a person?

Wow, now I feel vulnerable!  I hate that, too!

Only kidding!  Cheryl

I Cried For You

Here is another journal entry I found, and of course it is about my mother.  She passed away at  age 54 of cancer in 1993.  It seems I  did a lot of writing so I could deal with all the sadness. I must say, it did help.

This is about memories I had of my mother,  and the changes  she went through as a person through the years that I knew her. 

This is titled “I Cried For You”

*I cried for you again, tonight.

I cried for times past.  The you I remembered from my childhood, sending us off to school, baths on Sundays, the  bedtime stories  from Winnie- the- Pooh and Raggedy Ann.  The summer walks, calling us in from the back door for supper, or when we stayed out late and the street lights came on. For the birthdays and Christmas.

I cried for the you I remembered from my teen years:

The beach lover and the sunbather.  The more independent you- working and going to school for nursing, learning to drive, the friend, and the conversationalist. The artist and painter,and of course, for birthdays and Christmas.

I cried for the you I remembered as I grew into adulthood:

The very, independent woman,the nurse, the advisor, the photographer, gift-giver and lover of people.  The writer and poet, the reader and lover of movies, music and anything country.  The traveler, the santa collector……the sick woman, the disease, the hospital stays and surgeries.  The scared woman, but the strong woman. 

Always a smile and a giggle.  Always ready to share.

I cried for you and the time you had left.  The times I knew you’d miss. The grandchildren you’d never get to see grow older, even graduate.

All the little trinkets and gifts  I knew we’d never receive anymore.

Yes, I cried for you, again-

I still do,

I still will…

and I’ll forever cry for birthdays and Christmas, without you!  

Abandoned

 

My mom with us in the 60's-I'm on the right

 

Here is another journal entry I wrote after my mother passed away. This was written because of the depressing feeling I had when my sister and I had to get rid of my mother’s things in her closet one day.  My father could not bear to do it.  This was very hard, and it is something that has to be done, but no one really ever talks about it. To me, it felt like I was wiping out the rest of an existence. So sad.

This is titled  ”Abandoned”

Your clothes are still hanging in your closet, untouched, just as you left them.

Worn on trips, to restaurants or just everyday.

They’re just  hanging in the darkness, until they’re put away.

Sweatshirts with names of places visited,

With bright colors , or cute  animals and unique designs, that all say something about you.

Your evening dress up shoes and  assorted flats are strewn about the closet floor.

Waiting to see another day of summer sun, the beach perhaps, or just a walk – but no more.

The quilted bag you proudly carried around with you everywhere, containing all your treasures and trinkets…your valued photo album…

It’s just lying there empty on a chair.

Poetry books sit on dusty shelves waiting to be read again.

The music you loved so much- the many tape cassettes, are all in piles where you left them in a cupboard.

They were once played to visitors who walked in the door to greet you, but will never be played as they used to…anymore.

Your  Santa collection sits in the attic now…collecting dust.

The pretty cat waits for your gentle touch, your comfortable lap.

His eyes seem to ask, “What’s wrong?”

The many poems that won’t be written. The stories that won’t be read to a grandchild. 

The birthdays and special days that won’t be shared.

No more little gifts from you that say, “I love you” or “I’m thinking of you”.

How I wishI could hear your voice on the phone again, late at night, after a visit with you.

“Just wanted to know if you made it home, alright. Love you, too!  Goodnight!”

Oh, well…

Everything you owned says something about you, but now they all seem so lost – abandoned somehow – even us.

Now all these things have a secure place in my memory… and my heart… and on this paper,

To stay forever,

Never to be abandoned ,again!  :)

Splendor In The Grass

Here is an illustration I did for someone who is grieving.  I always loved that quote “Splendor In The Grass” as it somehow comforts me as I read it.  I would like to do this picture again as it was done awhile ago.  I like the illustration, but I would be a little neater on the printed words.  Hope you like this.  :)  Cheryl

Splendor In The Grass

The Apple Doesn’t Fall Far

Okay, this is going to be a little different.  I just came across my journal that I had written thoughts in of my children and how they are growing up so fast.  There are also writings about my mother and father, and how their passing away had affected me at the time . These entries were  mostly written back in the 1990′s.  There are even some poems from my teen years in this journal!  

I think I will be “brave” and share some with you now, and also in future posts.  Yes, I will be brave!

My mother passed away on March 4, 1993 at 54 years of age of complications from cancer.  Patrick was only 2 and Caitlin (her 1st grandaughter) was only 6 months old.  Knowing they would probably not remember her, and that she really didn’t get to spend more time with them, made it much more difficult. 

Anyway, this poem ,or writing, is sort of a sudden realization of how we were so much alike.  It actually happened as I wrote it.  Here goes:

This writing is titled “The Apple Doesn’t Fall Far”.

*Somewhere, in the deep, darkness-far,far away,

A woman sits at her kitchen table.

It’s my mother, chewing on a fingernail and pondering what to write next.

The writing tablet lies there, anticipating the pens next scratches.

A page is half written.

What is she writing?  Thoughts? A letter to a pen pal far away?  A poem perhaps.

The table sits in total disarray.

There are papers and bills, keys and mementos from past occasions that she’s kept forever-much too precious to throw away.

Her steaming cup of tea is her only company-and she ponders -and she writes .

Look around the dimly lit kitchen.

Cupboard doors are left ajar.  Country Cows and assorted tins and things are hanging on walls and sitting on shelves.

This is her domain – her place to let her thoughts wander and be set free.

Her time…she can’t waste precious time.

And isn’t it funny.

I notice as I’m sitting here, I am pondering and writing.

It’s late at night, and my tea is sitting next to me – steaming.

It’s quiet and still.

This is my time. I have to write.  It keeps me sane.

My mind is cluttered too much during the day.

I write letters, thoughts and poems.

The light is dim and shining on my country cows and assorted tins,

and suddenly I realize how much I am just like my mother.

“The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree”, I remember, and I’m wondering if my daughters will follow suit.

It somehow makes me feel comfortable knowing I’m so much like my mother – and I can’t waste precious time as well.

For time waits for no one.

Not even for beautiful people like my mother.

Love you, Mom.   Cheryl