I open every door...

I've always loved this quote by Emily Dickinson, and today it started me thinking about doors and the symbolic lessons they can teach.  I've always been captivated by doors--they beckon to you and invite you in for an adventure.  They symbolize the possibility of  life.  So this morning I'm sharing a few of my favorite quotes paired with some of my vacation photos.  Let's start the weekend off on the right note with the full poem by Emily. 

NOT knowing when the dawn will come
I open every door;
Or has it feathers like a bird,
Or billows like a shore? Not really a door per se, but an entrance at Cana Lighthouse looking towards Lake Michigan Doorway in Santorini, Greece, looking out towards the harbor

Courtyard doorway, Mykonos, Greece

Santorini courtyard door

Santorini, Greece

Have a beautiful Friday!

When you believe...

 

Sometimes the world calls out for a little whimsy, something out of the ordinary that sprinkles a little fairy dust on our day.  Wait--did someone say fairy?! Why yes, I did, and today we are going to welcome the day with a little magic to make us smile.  Because, no matter how dark the world may seem, I believe in the power and reality of goodness and love.  Let's be children again for a minute and whisper into the dark "I do believe, I do believe, oh I do believe in fairies" and see what happens. Silly?  Maybe, but we aren't alone in our belief--why else would there be beautiful necklaces like this to adorn ourselves?

Question of the day:  what does 398.2 refer to?  (hint:  think Dewey Decimal system....)

If fairies don't exist, why are there fairy doors?

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Fairy houses

or fairy homes? And these lucky fairies live in fairy tale books, filed under....(come on, you know the answer!) 398.2!!

Seriously, now that I have seen these I am obsessed with making some of my own.  I think a fairy tale section in my home library is way overdue.  Everyone should have one.  And these books, my friends, LIGHT UP when the fairies are home.  Seriously, I am making these.  As soon as I figure out where to buy fairy dust--I'll keep you posted.

In the meantime, you can always have a few fairy lights in a jar.  These lights will keep our spirits from flagging!

fairy lights

And besides, even G.K Chesterton claimed that fairies and their special magic exist, when he wrote:

So we will not let the dragons of sorrow and despair defeat us!  Find the magic, whether it's a prayer, a blessing, a smile from a loved one, or a happy memory; whisper I do believe, and let's all clap to keep the magic alive all day long. Let's face today with a smile on our face and this powerful song in our hearts:

When You Believe

lyrics by Stephen Schwartz and Kenneth Edmonds

Many nights we've prayed
With no proof anyone could hear
In our hearts a hopeful song
We barely understood
Now we are not afraid
Although we know there's much to fear
We were moving mountains long before we knew we could

There can be miracles
When you believe
Though hope is frail
It's hard to kill
Who knows what miracles
You can achieve
When you believe?
Somehow you will
You will when you believe

In this time of fear
When prayer so often proved in vain
Hope seemed like the summer birds
Too swiftly flown away
Yet now I'm standing here
With heart so full I can't explain

Seeking faith and speaking words
I never thought I'd say

There can be miracles when you believe
Though hope is frail
It's hard to kill Who knows what miracles
You can achieve
When you believe?
Somehow you will
You will when you believe

Going Home

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There are things to be said. No doubt.
And in one way or another
they will be said. But to whom tell

the silences? With whom share them
now? For a moment the sky is
empty and then there was a bird.

--Cid Corman

Sometimes I'm conflicted on what to write in my blog--it was designed as a fun place for me to share memories, favorite poems and family pictures with my friends and family.  And by friends I mean not only the ones that I can hang out with in person, but also all the wonderful people who have come into my life and enriched it by reaching out to me via our blogging worlds.  Yesterday was my 200th post and I intended to celebrate with all my readers, as I am excited that even after that many posts I can still find something to say! But even though I wanted to celebrate in today's post, my heart  was telling me that as the mother of three precious sons I cannot move forward towards joy without acknowledging the pain in so many Boston families right now, and the loss of that sweet, innocent eight year old boy.  My heart goes out to everyone involved in this terrible event.  

All I can do is offer my prayers for the injured and departed, and healing wishes for all the injuries, both physical and emotional.  This beautiful poem by Cid Corman sums up my feelings of loss and pain and sorrow so eloquently.  The promise that after the silence and the emptiness a bird will appear to comfort and console is so breathtakingly simple and moving.  I hope it brings you comfort as well.

A young writer, Gregory Dunne, met frequently with Cid when they both lived in Japan and discussed poetry and the ability to write truthfully and honestly.  I want to share Cid's comments with you, as I find they have the ring of truth in them.  There's no sense praying that I suffer no more sorrows...it comes with the territory.  If life means anything to anyone it means ... living this very moment aware of how it is shared--generously, magnanimously, tenderly.  To that all I can add is Amen.

Cid wrote: "Life is the music - Greg - and your life your music. No one can take it from you - or give it to you (beyond those who did) - but you may need time to hear it or let it come through. It happens when you are moved beyond yourself into the open. It requires an honesty with oneself that is always rare - and often when you think your ARE being honest - you are deceiving (kidding) yourself most. It needs a terrible ruthlessness.
It isn't a matter of sounding good but of being good - living each word in its fullness as they OCCUR. Not to get ahead of yourself, but not to fall behind either. It WILL come, if you have the staying power. And even if you fail - it may still feed richly into your life. Ego - despite all the accent put upon it - isn't the issue. But how to share life with others and in a way that makes it even yet (in the face of what we all face) possible. Given what it is - for any of us - there's nothing to get hoity-toity about.
We're all small potatoes - Nobelists and Presidents, Kings/Queens and Champions.
Why should what you feel or have felt be of any interest or concern to ANYONE ELSE?
And how can it be unless you open to others to core? This is hard to do. We hide from ourselves as well as others.
The poem you want to write maybe will not come clear to you till within moments of your death. That's the way it goes.
There's no sense praying that I suffer no more sorrows. It comes with the territory. There is nothing to pray for - as my poems try to make clear. If life means anything to anyone it means precisely life and living this very moment aware of it and how it is shared - generously - magnanimously - tenderly.  
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Little boys should be enjoying life, hanging out with their family and savoring an ice cream cone.  In memory of Martin Richard, who loved to play baseball and ride his bike, I offer the beautiful song by the boys' choir, Libera, performing Going Home (Original Song by Antonín Dvořák (Largo from Symphony No. 9 in E Minor "From the New World").

Going Home, performed by Libera

And life would be all spring...not!

The sun just touched the morning;

The morning, happy thing,
Supposed that he had come to dwell,
And life would be all spring.
---Emily Dickinson

I'm back home safe and sound, but driving to my aunt's funeral was a little more dramatic than I would have liked!  Usually I love traveling across southern Minnesota and into the Dakota prairie with its wide open sky and the horizon that stretches on forever.  It was wonderful spending time with my family, although in the last year I've attended funerals on three sides of the family and at this point I'd love to reconnect with cousins and aunts and uncles through a happy reunion instead!  When I got up early to head home on Sunday morning, considering it was mid-April, here is what I had hoped I would be driving through:

South Dakota sunrise

But here is what greeted me instead:

SD Interstate 29

I have to admit, there was some white knuckle driving for awhile, and I was very relieved when I finally arrived home.  I was so grateful I had chosen Anne Perry to accompany me on the trip...her book on cd, Buckingham Palace Gardens, was just the thing to keep me awake and alert during what turned into a much longer day of driving than anticipated.  And may I add that I arrived home to find my husband putting the finishing touches on my favorite meal?  Fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, coleslaw and sweet tea...what a sweet and loving gesture, and much appreciated!! 

And here, in no particular order, are some of the things I thought about during my long car trip:

I am so very grateful for my wonderful family.  I love my siblings and nieces and nephews, aunts and uncles and cousins so much.  I love all our crazy 'remember when' stories.  Family Easter egg hunts, Christmas Eve dinners at the KC Hall, family reunions, vacation Bible school with my cousins...all special bonds that we share.

Christmas Eve family dinner at KC Hall...my brother is on Santa's lap, surrounded by cousins....

A house full of cousins!  I'm in the back with my hair pulled straight back off my forehead...I TOLD you it wasn't a good hairstyle, Mom!!

A special thank you to my sister for her warm fire, muffin and a great cup of hot tea while I took a break from the blizzard driving.

My sister and I at the State Capitol, Thanksgiving 2012

I am so blessed to be the mother of such amazing children, who may be all grown up (well, mostly grown up!) and have their own busy lives, but who still took the time to text and call me while I was in South Dakota to see how I was holding up and how my solo driving was going.  I love you!

My kids and puppy (and yes, one of them is photo-shopped in thanks to my daughter's computer skills! Can you figure out who was added later?!)

I am so lucky to be the wife of a husband who loves me and treats me with respect, tolerates my (many) foibles and failings and uninspired weekday dinners, and knows how to pick me up when I am down and make me laugh when I'm having trouble seeing the bright side of life.  You are my rock, my fortress and my strength.

I miss my dad. Time may help heal the grief, but the missing doesn't go away, does it?

And I spent a lot of time in the car thinking how much I love and admire my mother.  Life hasn't always been easy for her, but her strength and determination to make life good for her family has gotten her through things a lesser woman could not have handled.  And she has done it all with grace, dignity and most days with a twinkle of fun in her lovely blue eyes.  Pulling out of the driveway, waving goodbye, is always hard on both of us.  I love you, Mom.


You can see it in their eyes,
in tender hugs and long good-byes,
a love that only moms and daughters know.

You can see it in their smiles,
through passing years and changing styles,
a friendship that continually seems to grow.

You can see it in their lives,
the joy each one of them derives,
in just knowing that the other one is there...

To care and to understand,
lend an ear or hold a hand,
and to celebrate the memories they share.

Wow, what a ride!

This post is in fond memory of my aunt, who passed away yesterday.  I will be in South Dakota the rest of the week, and will return to my blog next Monday.  Thank you for your prayers for my family.

Good-bye to my sweet and always cheerful and upbeat Aunt Betty.  A devoted wife, mother and grandmother, South Dakota Mother of the Year, nurse, actress, organizer of countless, always fun Easter egg hunts, tireless volunteer for her church and community, and a woman with a hearty laugh and a never dimmed joy in life.  We always knew if you and your purse made it on to Let's Make a Deal, you would have won!  Your purse was as bottomless as your loving heart.  The twinkle in your eyes could outshine the stars.  And your zest for adventures is the stuff legends are made of.   When I was engaged, you showed up at my parents house with a crystal ring holder...dressed as Groucho Marx.  It made a memorable first impression on my fiance!  You loved Halloween, and my kids couldn't wait to trick or treat at your house...your costumes always rivaled theirs!



Aunt Betty and Uncle Everett (my dad's older brother).  My dad is on the end, with the beautiful curly hair.

Your Easter egg hunts were extraordinary, whether in your backyard or at the Masonic Lodge.  I won the golden egg one year and the ten dollar bill tucked inside...talking about feeling rich!  But we all struck it rich...rich in love, and family stories and lots and lots of laughter. 

Easter egg hunt, circa 1989.  My oldest two boys are dead center (red McDonalds sweatshirt) and off to the right (red, white and black striped sweatshirt)



I sang this song in church just a couple of weeks ago, tearfully thinking of my loved ones that are no longer with us in this part of our life journey, and the words of triumph over death are so sustaining right now.

Christ, the Lord, is risen today, Alleluia!
Sons of men and angels say, Alleluia!
Raise your joys and triumphs high, Alleluia!
Sing, ye heavens, and earth, reply, Alleluia!

Love’s redeeming work is done, Alleluia!
Fought the fight, the battle won, Alleluia!
Lo! the Sun’s eclipse is over, Alleluia!
Lo! He sets in blood no more, Alleluia!

Lives again our glorious King, Alleluia!
Where, O death, is now thy sting? Alleluia!
Once He died our souls to save, Alleluia!
Where thy victory, O grave? Alleluia!

Soar we now where Christ hath led, Alleluia!
Following our exalted Head, Alleluia!
Made like Him, like Him we rise, Alleluia!
Ours the cross, the grave, the skies, Alleluia!

I love the quote below, and somehow, it just has Aunt Betty stamped all over it.  We love you and we will miss you.  Your ride was a great one.

The low, sweet tones of happy flowers

Is anybody else out there as anxious for spring as I am?!  I can't wait to get out in my garden, and according to my calendar this week is National Garden Week.  But all the calendar declarations in the world are not warming things up enough where I live to actually venture into my garden so I happily propose instead to celebrate garden week in combination with National Poetry Month and take a peek at some of the lovely gardens of my favorite poets and authors.  Let's start with Orchard House, the home of the Alcott family (and where the adventures of the lively March sisters was penned by Louisa May Alcott.)  Here's the view of Orchard House from the street--Louisa's bedroom window on the second floor overlooked this side garden of wildflowers.

 

Near the side entrance to the house, located on the opposite side of this picture, this plaque is displayed near a small garden, and tells the reader what flowers each of the daughters preferred to plant in their own garden spaces.  

 

"As spring came on, a new set of amusements became the fashion, and the lengthening days gave long afternoons for work and play of all sorts. The garden had to be put in order, and each sister had a quarter of the little plot to do what she liked with. Hannah used to say, "I'd know which each of them gardings belonged to, ef I see 'em in Chiny," and so she might, for the girls' tastes differed as much as their characters. Meg's had roses and heliotrope, myrtle, and a little orange tree in it. Jo's bed was never alike two seasons, for she was always trying experiments. This year it was to be a plantation of sun flowers, the seeds of which cheerful land aspiring plant were to feed Aunt Cockle-top and her family of chicks. Beth had old-fashioned fragrant flowers in her garden, sweet peas and mignonette, larkspur, pinks, pansies, and southernwood, with chickweed for the birds and catnip for the pussies. Amy had a bower in hers, rather small and earwiggy, but very pretty to look at, with honeysuckle and morning-glories hanging their colored horns and bells in graceful wreaths all over it, tall white lilies, delicate ferns, and as many brilliant, picturesque plants as would consent to blossom there."   --Little Women, by Louisa May Alcott

 

 I found these absolutely charming vintage paper dolls here.

Meg loved roses

while rambunctious Jo preferred the cheerful sunflower

Amy chose the morning glories

 

While sweet Beth preferred old fashioned flowers like sweet peas and pansies

I love the fragrance of sweet peas!

Here's a lovely flower poem by Louisa May from the 1855 collection Flower Fables.  I hope you have a beautiful start to your week, and maybe where you live it's warm enough to peek in your garden and see signs of spring!

BRIGHTER SHONE THE GOLDEN SHADOWS

by: Louisa May Alcott (1832-1888)

righter shone the golden shadows;

On the cool wind softly came

The low, sweet tones of happy flowers,

Singing little Violet's name.

'Mong the green trees was it whispered,

And the bright waves bore it on

To the lonely forest flowers,

Where the glad news had not gone.




Thus the Frost-King lost his kingdom,

And his power to harm and blight.

Violet conquered, and his cold heart

Warmed with music, love, and light;

And his fair home, once so dreary,

Gay with lovely Elves and flowers,

Brought a joy that never faded

Through the long bright summer hours.




Thus, by Violet's magic power,

All dark shadows passed away,

And o'er the home of happy flowers

The golden light for ever lay.

Thus the Fairy mission ended,

And all Flower-Land was taught

The 'Power of Love,' by gentle deeds

That little Violet wrought.

I thought you might enjoy this great idea for combining pressed flowers from your garden with pages from some of your favorite books (you can usually find vintage books at used bookstores for just a few dollars).  What a nice idea, and it would also make a great gift for someone who loves books!  I think I'll put my flower press to good use this summer!

 

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If ever two were one, then surely we

 

This is to the crown and blessing of my life,
The much loved husband of a happy wife.

(from To A Husband by Anne Kingsmill Finch)

I normally take Sundays off but today is special--it's my dear husband's birthday and I simply couldn't let the day pass by without acknowledging how much his support and love means to me.  We started as co-workers, became good friends and then somehow the spark of love was lit and there was no turning back.  We've been married over thirty years, and there hasn't been a day that has gone by that he hasn't let me know by his words and actions how much he loves me.  I am a blessed woman.

 

To My Dear and Loving Husband

 by Anne Bradstreet

If ever two were one, then surely we.
If ever man were lov'd by wife, then thee.
If ever wife was happy in a man,
Compare with me, ye women, if you can.
I prize thy love more than whole Mines of gold,
Or all the riches that the East doth hold.
My love is such that Rivers cannot quench,
Nor ought but love from thee give recompense.
Thy love is such I can in no way repay;
The heavens reward thee manifold I pray.
Then while we live, in love lets so persever,
That when we live no more, we may live ever.