Friday Favorites (vol. 6): tender moments, gradeschool artwork, discovering doorways

1- Receipts from faraway places

Nestled between the pages of the travel journal I found recipts for: 

red leather gloves (Firenze)

un gelato affogato al caffe from the famous Marchesei Cafe (Milan's Galleria)

Venetian ties (Venezia)

mountain chairlift (Bolzano)

2- Tender moments

Captured by a friend: with my sister, pondering Michelangelo's Pieta

3- Gradeschool artwork

Cleaning out a drawer I disovered this. Be still my beating heart.

4- Discovering Unexpected Doorways

Exploring downtown Little Rock Joe and I saw this beautiful ornamental gate. When we walked closer Joe pushed on the door and ... it opened! It was early in the morning, no one was around, so we walked through to discover a beautiful Oriental garden. Later we found out it was the H. U. Lee International Gate and Garden from South Korea. Yes, in downtown Little Rock. 

5- Spying on Sons

I just happened to pull up to Publix the other day and saw Timothy hard at work. 

6- Witty signs

Spotted at a surf shop on Jekyll Island. Perfect, dude. 

7- Photo of the Week

Taken while biking the Virgina Creeper Trail somewhere in Virginia.

Doggie and Kitty

once upon a time

there was

a cat named doggie

and a dog name kitty

go fetch little doggie

and the cat runs off

come here kitty, kitty

and the dog comes

doggie and kitty

live their days

doggie doing cat things

kitty doing dog things

confusing everyone

but themselves

*from the files of very bad poetry by bia

Saying Goodbye

I first met Sterling at the Starbucks in Target. She was the very last person to sign up for a group trip to Italy my sister and I had organized, and we met so I could give her the itinerary, collect her deposit, and answer any questions she might have. I liked her right away. She told me about her family's trip to France the previous summer, we realized we had mutual friends, and she was very open about what life was like living with breast cancer. She had just finished treatment and had been given the all-clear to travel, so she was excited to join our group.

Sterling walked all over Rome and the Amalfi Coast with a smile on her face. She was ALWAYS smiling. One afternoon we were walking through the Roman Forum when I happened to notice she was limping. Earlier that morning we had visited the Vatican Museums and toured the Colosseum, so it had been a long day. When I stepped back to walk with her, I suggested that we could sit on a bench and the group would pick us up on the way back. She laughed. "Oh no. Look at me ... I am in ITALY. I just walked through the Colosseum. I feel great and I don't want to miss a second." And she didn't.

During the planning for our second group trip last September, an opening came up at the last minute (literally 10 days before our trip) so I reached out to Sterling to see if she wanted to take that spot. There was a flurry of phone calls and texts that weekend to discuss details. She was on a new medication and for the first time in months felt energetic, so when she checked with her doctor he told her to go to Italy! In the end, though, there was too much on the calendar with family obligations to make the trip. But this was a good thing! We agreed that life is pretty grand when you're too busy for a trip to Italy. Then, two days before our trip, Sterling sent me the following text: "Wishing all of you safe travels and lots of laughter."

This past Saturday, Sterling passed away. It is hard to reconcile the idea of a vibrant, smiling Sterling with her not being here on this earth. We have lost someone very special, but heaven has gained a smiling soul. She will be remembered. She will be missed.

Beach Music

The beach umbrella provided a perfect circle of shade, the waves rolled onto the shore, and the laughter and chatter of children carried on the ocean breeze. 

And as I sat on my Tommy Bahamas beach chair I had the most profound thought: Oh what a stupid I am.

You see, in the weeks leading up to our beach vacation, I shed a lot of blood, sweat, and tears worrying about finding the most flattering bathing suit, on how I would manage my beach hair, and whether or not I had time to lose 5-10 pounds. While I don't consider myself a vain person, the truth is I spend an inordinate amount of time worrying about what I weigh, how I look, or whether or not I am having a good hair day. Then, factor in a BEACH vacation and the preoccupation ratchets up several notches. 

Because there is no hiding ANYTHING at the beach.

Exposure, however, provides clarity because there I was, in my bathing suit, feeling stupid because none of that angst ... NONE of it ... mattered. It had all been for naught. 

I looked around at the amazing display of the human form around me, at the tanned, ghostly white, freckled, skinny, and fat; there were muscled bodies, flabby ones, and many in-between ones; I saw wrinkles, sagging bellies, frizzy hair, and bald heads; some people wore modest, sensible bathing suits, while others wore hardly anything at all. 

The point is, everyone was more than their body! A man with with a massive beer belly was comforting a crying toddler who had been knocked over by a wave; a pregnant woman sat under an umbrella wearing a sunflower hat, her twin daughters wearing matching hats were digging in the sand; a body builder, heavily muscled and deeply tanned, tip-toed on the hot sand with the gracefulness of a ballet dancer; a grandfather wearing socks and open-toed sandals watched his grandchildren playing a competitive game of bocce; a woman in her eighties pumped her arms as she walked past others half her age. 

No one was perfect, but they were all beautiful. 

But if I could see this beauty in others, why then could I not see it in myself?

I know I am not unique in saying that self-acceptance is a struggle for many women and that it manifests itself in different phases of our lives. When I was younger, a lot of that struggle was about wanting to measure up to the actress on the movie screen, the model in the magazine, or the friend in Bible study who lost ten pounds. Accepting who we are was all tied up with our yearning for a better future self. Then, as the years went by it was shocking to realize that, despite our best efforts, age catches up to us and now the struggle of self-acceptance originates from a deep-seated longing for time to stand still. 

We want to be as we were in the past even as we struggle to hold on to who we are in the present. 

Nothing can ever be what it was. The earth turns, the sun rises and sets, the moon waxes and wanes, and the waves advance and recede. Life is too short to worry about tomorrow's sun when you are watching it rise today, or about the encroaching darkness when the moon peeks through the treetops, or about a gone wave when another is just arriving. 

With these deep, contemplative thoughts I felt my worries and insecurities carry away with the wind and leave behind the realization that ... hey ... I can embrace who I am. Even there, on that beach wearing a bathing suit. Sure, there is room for improvment, and I will continue to strive to be a better me, but that shouldn't have anything to do with accepting (and being happy with) who I am right here and now. 

Don't wait to dance until you hear the music of tomorrow when there is an orchestra playing today. 

P. S. For other posts on body image, please read ...

Smiling Eyes

To Behold

Buen Camino: Finding the Way

For you, on this Feast Day of St. James ... 

           

In the very northwest corner of Spain is a beautiful shrine called the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela where, according to tradition, the apostle St. James is buried. Beginning in the 9th century, this cathedral was the destination of what became known as The Way of St. James (El Camino de Santiago), a leading pilgrimage route for people all over Europe; in fact, the pilgrimage to the shrine became the most renowned in Europe, and it was customary for those who returned from their pilgrimage to bring back a scalloped shell as proof they made it to the coast and completed their journey. Over time, the scalloped shell became a traditional symbol of the pilgrim because the shell’s grooves, which meet at a single point, represent the various routes to Santiago de Compostela.

           

Today, people still make that pilgrimage, walking el camino (the way) over mountain ranges, alongside streams, through beautiful open fields and, at the end of each day, stopping to rest in one of the countless villages along the way. The pilgrims typically carry three things: a walking stick, a scalloped shell as symbol that they are a pilgrim, and a “pilgrim passport” which is stamped with an official St. James stamp at every village where they stop to spend the night. By the time they reach their destination this passport is filled with stamps marking the points along their walk.

           

Just this week I watched a beautiful movie entitled The Way starring Martin Sheen and directed by his son, Emilio Estevez. The movie tells the story of a grieving father walking to Santiago de Compostela carrying the cremated remains of his son. Along the way he meets other pilgrims, each one with a different reason for walking el camino: to lose weight, to get over a relationship, to grieve, to find God. Even those who were doing it for no reason whatsoever, in the end, found meaning.

           

Perhaps the most beautiful part of this modern day pilgrimage is this: over and over, as people pass each other on el camino, sit down for a meal together at the end of the day or stand in line to get their passports stamped, you hear them wishing each other a buen camino. Translated literally, buen camino means “a good walk/path”, but within the context of a pilgrimage the phrase takes on a deeper meaning. To wish someone a buen camino is to wish them well in finding meaning and purpose on their pilgrimage.

           

And during this time in which the way is unclear, this is what I wish for you … a buen camino. 

Friday Favorites (vol. 5): an article, a stockpile, a shakerato, two gone beds, and a photo

A weekly roundup of a few of my favorite things ...

-1- Getting published

Kathy McCabe is the host and executive producer of the PBS travel series Dream of Italy. She also publishes an online magazine (subscription only) and recently asked readers to submit articles for a special summer edition of the magazine. I submitted an article and it was selected. Initially they were going to edit my article for length, but last week I received the following message: Hi Maria! I just wanted to let you know that Kathy loved your story so much that we have decided to run the longer version as a full page. It will be the only full page story in the issue! 

Well, now. Please as punch am I! Unfortunately, I cannot give a link to the magazine because it is subscription only, but if you visit the  Dream of Italy  website and become a member, you will have instant access to the magazine. I'm on page 3 ;-)

-2- Stockpiling Grissini

Some people hoard toilet paper. Or Clorox wipes. Me? I stockpile these boxes of grissini from Lidl. They don't have them all the time, but when they do ...

For lunch today I had roasted vegetables, a boiled egg, a chunk of Parmigiano Reggiano, and these grissini. So, so good. 

-3- A Cocktail Shaker for Coffee

During these dog days of summer, when I break out into a sweat just walking to my mailbox, I am not feeling my afternoon espresso. I want something cool! So instead I pull out my cocktail shaker and make myself a Caffe Shakerato. In Italy, as soon as the weather gets hot this cool espresso makes an appearance, often served in a chilled martini or wine glass. Like all good Italian recipes, the genius is in its simplicity. There are THREE ingredients: two shots of espresso, sugar, ice cubes.

Instructions: Brew the espresso and pour into the base of a cocktail shaker. Add sugar and stir until dissolved. Then add ice cubes and shake vigorously until the shaker is frosted and an espresso foam is created. Strain into a chilled glass and serve. 

-4- Finding a Home

Recently we listed for sale a pair of antique twin beds. Now that the older boys are on their own, it was time to freshen up their room. The beds sold in two days to a family who wanted them for their two small sons. And as sad as it was to see them go, I am happy the beds will be used for another generation of brothers. 

-5- Photo of the Week: Time Passages

Little boys grow up. Who knew? Darn it. 

Something for Your Pocket

Look what came in yesterday's mail! 

Sometimes called a finger rosary, a pocket rosary, or a decade rosary, these knotted suede rosaries are handmade by my very talented nephew and available on Etsy. I ordered five (one for each member of the family) in five different colors (brown, grey, black, navy, and tan). Each rosary comes in a linen drawstring bag and two prayer cards. 

(For my non-Catholic readers, a rosary is simply a means to enter into prayer in a meditative and contemplative manner. It is not a prayer to Mary, but a request for her to pray for us; that is, we are asking for her intercession in the hopes that her prayers will be joined with ours. (It is no different than asking someone to pray for/with you.)

I may be biased, but my nephew did an awesome job. While there are plenty of rosaries made with cord or beads, there are not that many made with a suede; as such, they are soft, pliable, and do not snag ... which makes them just perfect for pockets. 

Thomas' Etsy Site