blooming bushes and budding greens

dawn tiptoes along the sky

whispering promises

of new starts

again beginnings

of blooming bushes

and budding greens

 

once upon a time

awaiting the story

*from the files of very bad poetry by bia

Timothy's Top 10-ish on his 18th

I had planned to write a mushy post in honor of Timothy's birthday, but alas! he would get embarrassed. So I'll do a Top 10-ish list instead. Not embarrassing at all. 

1- Once Upon a Time Timothy thought chocolate was made by mixing water and dirt with spoon. He changed his mind once he tasted it.

2- He loves art galleries. Like, really really likes them.

3- He also really really likes school. Like, just look at that enthusiastic smile.  

4- Timothy and his brothers like to "crick" each other, which is brother-speak for wrestling.

5- In preschool he once got in trouble for saying "poopy words" (exact words in the teacher's note) while the class was rolling out gingerbread dough for cookies. To which I thought: give a child a chunk of brown, lumpy dough and poopy words are a given. 

The very next year in Kindergarten, he received the Christian Service Award. So there's hope. 

6- His older brothers teach him lots of useful things. Pokémon stuff and Formula 1 stuff and video games stuff and how-to-get-out-of-jail stuff. All useful.

7- Timothy was once King of Kandy Castle when his brother let him win in Candy Land.

8- He likes corny jokes.

Q: What did the fish say when it hit a wall? 

A: Damn.

9- Give the kid a Nike sneaker and he can conquer the world. 

10- He gets into serious arguments with his brothers on which Top Gear show is better: American or British. Yikes. Timothy will take you out if you mess with Jeremy, James, or Hammond. British Top Gear all the way.

11- In Disney World, Timothy agreed to sleep on the Princess bed if  Nonno slept in the bed next to the door. You know, to be the first line of defense against an ax murderer. Or a serial killer. Or a Disney Princess.

12- Timothy started working at Publix when the Pandemic lockdown went into effect with a goal to save up enough money to buy his first car. His first paycheck was for $71. Exactly one year later he saved enough to buy his car  with no help from mom and dad.

 

13- Baby brothers grow up. Who knew? Happy birthday, Timothy! 

DISCLAIMERS:

1- Numbers 2 and 3 above are sarcastic. Art museums make him yawn and school is tolerable. Barely.

2- He didn't eat the "chocolate"  but he learned a lot about mud.

3- His "poopy word" was poop. Didn't want you to think it was something else.

4- OF COURSE he won't take you out if you malign the British Top Gear show. But he WILL think less of you. 

Speak to Me Sunday: Living the Question

Wallowing in mediocrity.

Not to be overly dramatic, but those words can haunt me.

As someone who writes (or tries to), plays the guitar (okay-ish), loves art (but is not an artist), dabbles in poetry (the very bad kind), decorates (but panics when selecting paint color), follows fashion (but sticks to wearing black) ... well, I look at that list and think: I am okay at this, I am good at that. Okay is good. Good is good. But is it wrong to yearn to be GREAT in any one of those things? To be able to put pen to paper effortlessly? Play the guitar without sheet music? Create inspirational poetry? Wear bright yellow (or pink or purple) and own it? 

No, it is not wrong, for even as I wallow in mediocrity, even as I struggle to be where I am, the journey of being okay-ish leaves mountains, oceans, galaxies of self exploration and improvement to explore. Being okay-ish dispels complacency and embraces growth.

In truth, I am not so much wallowing as living a question. 

The poet Rainer Maria Rilke, in Letters to a Young Poet, said we should have patience with everything that remains unsolved in the heart; that we must love the questions themselves; that it is okay not to look for immediate answers because then we could not live them. 

And it is important to live the question. 

A question is a good place to begin. It launches astronauts into space, stirs a longing for God, inspires artists, gives imagination to the writer. A question fuels the search, which immediately sets you on a journey. 

Recently, I had an opportunity to live the question when a friend and I signed up for a Beginning Drawing class in Aiken. Suddenly I was immersed in a world of composition, harmony, perspective, light and shadow. I learned the different types of graphite pencils and how to find the vanishing point. I learned how to view the world in a different way, and what a beautiful world it is!

Very Bad Art will now be added to my Files of Very Bad Poetry. 

Which is all sorts of wonderful. I am living the question and love every minute of it.

Have patience with everything that remain unsolved in your heart. Try to love the questions themselves, liked locked rooms and like books written in a foreign language. Do not now look for the answers. They cannot now be given to you because you could not live them. It is a question of experiencing everything. At present you need to live the question. Perhaps you will gradually, without even noticing it, find yourself experiencing the answer, some distant day. 

Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet

A Forever Family on Valentine's Day

This morning I grabbed my CASA photo id and showed up bright and early at Columbia County Courtroom #1 to witness love in action at an adoption proceeding.

Finally, my CASA child was getting her forever family. 

After 62 months in the foster care system, after being placed with three different families in the past year alone, after being enrolled in three different schools in that same period, after losing the chance for adoption two years ago when her foster father suddenly passed away, after all this time today, on Valentine's Day, this precious 9-year old now has a mom, a dad, and a baby sister.

When the parents raised their right hands in a solemn oath to care for and love this little girl who will now be considered their biological child, there was not a dry eye in the place. 

Later, after hugs and gifts, I thought about all the love that brought about this moment. It is so easy to focus on all the brokenness, on an overburdened foster care system and overworked caseworkers, but there is so much courage and heroism and love. It is there, believe me. I am humbled at how hard everyone worked so that today a little girl is no longer alone in the world. 

It was a perfect love story for Valentine's Day.  

photo used with permission

Dear ----,

When I was a little girl, one of my favorite possessions was a Memory Box. When I first received my box it was empty, like this one I’m giving you, but over time I filled it with things that held a special meaning for me: a small silver bracelet, some flower petals, postcards from our family vacations, a letter from my grandmother, ticket stubs from Broadway, photos of my family.

I still have my Memory Box, and now I want you to have one, too.

Today is a special day because you and your forever family have found one another. You now have a new Mom, a new Dad, a new sister. They have you. And I hope you will use this Memory Box to collect and store all the beautiful new memories you will be creating as a family.

Love,

Maria Novajosky, CASA

February 14, 2022

Christmas Au Revoir

Au Revoir, Christmas Soldier. 

Today I am packing away the ribbons and tags; storing packages, boxes, and bags.

I am basically undoing everything we did a month and a half ago. The tree that went up, is now coming down. The nativity sets, garland, and stockings that were on display, are not hidden away.

All that fuss, and just like that it is over.

Then, I reach for a painted signboard, Three Wise Men with the words, "REJOICE in the gifts of the season."

Rejoice. In the gifts.

Not the sparkly ones under the tree, but the ones that plant memories: the boys home for the holidays, the first Christmas as a married couple for my oldest son and his wife, the first visit to Augusta for my middle son's girlfriend, board game marathons, houseguests, Christmas day with my entire family, late night walks, new recipes, movie nights, baklava and cappuccino, college acceptance letters, homemade tortellini. 

And then there are the spiritual gifts, the reasons for this season: the gifts of the Magi, the angels' Alleluia, the shepherds' witness, and the Christ child in a manger. The gifts of faith, peace, goodwill, forgiveness, and salvation for all mankind until the end of time.

So yes, I am clearing away the trimmings of Christmas, the things that made the season sparkly, cozy, and exciting! I am storing the ribbons and tags, packages, boxes, and bags. But the real Christmas gifts, the ones that matter, cannot be packed away to reappear only one time a year. They keep on giving, over and over. 

I am not putting away Christmas; it is not goodbye, but au revoir. Until I see you again. 

Yesterday, tomorrow, next December, now.

In Which I Lie to our Deacon

This morning Joe and I were in Costco and ran into the Deacon of our parish and his wife.

We exchanged Happy New Year greetings and told them how we were there to purchase a new television because ours died last night. 

"We have exact measurements because we need to find one that fits our cabinet. I am not buying new furniture," I explained.

Five minutes later--FIVE MINUTES!--my words went out the window when Joe loaded a 55-inch Samsung onto the cart because the last day of a Super Sale meant there was only $100 difference between the 40-inch (which is what we intended to get) and the more impressive 55-inch.

Of course, tomorrow I need to go find a credenza or console (or something) because right now that television is on the floor. 

What can I say? A New Year. Carpe Diem. Seize the (sale) opportunity.

And mea culpa to our Deacon. 

Speak to Me (Advent) Sunday: Actively Waiting

The fact that Thanksgiving slides effortlessly into the Advent season is just as it should be. After the past few days of family gathering from near and far, sitting around the table talking, laughing, passing heaping plates of food--all that bounty!--we can now ride that wave of gratitude as we step into the Advent season.

But what should we be doing during Advent?

It sounds paradoxical during the hustle and bustle of the next coming weeks, but spiritually ... we wait.

Actively.

Like that waiting time before a trip. That period of preparation for a future action, a period of activity in waiting for the Moment.

So in the midst of the hustle and bustle of the next coming weeks, I will also be cocooned in this season of anticipation. I will wait. Actively. With prayer, scripture, and reflection of the healing memory of the God who became child and the hope that memory brings.

Advent wreath 2021: mismatched candle holders, greenery from a foraging adventure, 

one perfect pine cone from Joe during a canal walk, holly leaves from our yard.

No purple or pink candles, but I am okay with that since original Advent wreaths were

made with homemade beeswax candles. 

The Symbolism behind the Advent wreath:

greenery = everlasting life

holly = crown of thorns

pine cones/nuts/pods = life and resurrection

four candles = four weeks of Advent

color purple = prayer, penance, royalty

color pink = rejoicing

circular wreath = eternity of God; His never-ending love

progressive lighting of the candles = expectation and hope surrounding Christ's birth