Silence

"Silence is a text easy to misread."
A.A. Attanasio 

I've often heard people negatively remark about couples sitting across from each other in restaurants who barely converse during their meal. "How sad that they have so little to say to each other... they must be so bored." 

I read a little saying the other day which might make one think twice before making such assumptions: "Some couples have grown comfortable enough with each other that they can take immense pleasure in being close without the need to fill the peaceful silence between them with unnecessary words."

Skip and I drove the "back way" home from Denver to Colorado Springs today. We chose to travel a rural two-lane highway rather than drive the 90 miles on the interstate where we spend 90% of the time dodging stupid, insane drivers and arrive home stressed and exhausted. For almost 45 minutes of our leisurely drive on this back road, the only sound in the car came from an oldies radio station I had found and Buddy, our Beagle, snoring in the back seat. Skip was reading one of his Clive Cussler novels and I was driving while gazing at everything - something I love doing when there's no traffic and the road takes us away from the busyness of city traffic. I loved the fact that we could share this space together and enjoy the silence between us without the need to converse.

I delighted in so much on this drive home. Colors. Things. Smells. Life.

Split rail fences, barbed wire fences, white wood fences - stretching for miles and miles in every direction. Marking boundaries. Keeping in the wanted. Keeping out the unwanted. Barns in every stage of decay, in various colors and shapes and sizes. Stacks and stacks of round hay bales, square hay bales. Fields of  brown sagebrush, and meadows of lush green grasses hanging on from summer. Horses, cows, goats. And an occasional hound dog. Aspen trees with leaves of gold, vibrant green pines, dead elms with their withered branches reaching skyward. An overall-clad farmer hunched over the wheel of his plugging-along tractor. A young woman in a fashionable jogging suit sprinting down the quarter-mile dirt road from her sprawling farmhouse to the mailbox by the highway. Hawks gracefully circling the open meadow for food. The carcass of a doe lying on the side of the road...a once beautiful creature who became the innocent victim of man encroaching on her territory. And the sky. The mountains. The incredible cloud formations. And the peace-filled silence between Skip and I. 

Then we turned off the country road. Skip closed his book, I paid more attention to the city-traffic and we started talking about how we should spend the rest of this wonderful day together.

Silences make the real conversations between friends. 

Not the saying but the never needing to say is what counts. 

Margaret Lee Runbeck 

Golden Autumn

"Even if something is left undone,

everyone must take time to

sit still and watch the leaves turn." 

- Elizabeth Lawrence

And that's exactly what I did yesterday when Skip, Mom and I drove into the mountains to gaze upon the incredible colors of Fall. Our Aspens tend to leave me awestruck every time I see them. I've learned not to keep taking hundreds of pictures of this Autumn event, as the changing colors in a photo never seem to appear as brilliant and impressive as they are when you're gazing in person at an entire mountain of gold. Autumn surely is "a second Spring when every leaf is a flower."

 

Broncos vs Seattle Sea Hawks

Wow, 24 days since I entered something on my blog. Where DOES the time go?

Had a fantastic time last weekend with my friend Cheryl who I have known over 30 years. She lives across the state in Grand Junction, and unfortunately we don't get together as often as we'd like. Cheryl and Jim have season tickets for the Bronco games, and I was invited to go with her to see the Broncos play the Seattle Sea Hawks last Sunday. We stayed at the Sheraton on the west side of Denver and were able to hop on a bus across from the hotel that drove us right to the front gate of Mile High Stadium. (I will NEVER get use to calling it Invesco Field. Totally dumb name!)

Anyway, I guess I had forgotten the amazing excitement and energy that can overcome you when you become part of a crowd of 75,000 individuals all cheering on the home team. And there is SO much more to see when you're in the stadium. I can get very bored watching the game at home with all those ridiculous commercials and half-time commentators who just love to hear the sound of their own voices. Personally, I'd rather be watching the half-time show than listening to them recap every play of the game!

It was an extraordinary weekend with a forever friend. And, naturally, it's always a plus when you walk away the winner!

"When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares."  Henri Nouwen

Is this Cajun Country?

Well, actually we're still in Colorado - but for this day, I felt like I was livin' and eatin' down in Cajun country.

We had a mini family reunion last weekend in Delta, Colorado with Skip's family. These are three of his four sisters, and can they ever cook! Tonight's menu was jambalaya (an iconic dish native to Cajun country) and cornbread. If you're new to this food, it consists of bite-size pieces of chicken, fresh shrimp and sausage all cooked together in a delicious spicy brown sauce served over rice. And when you get these three Louisiana-bred sisters makin' this dish, you're talkin' a scrumptious meal! (By the way, I helped set the table!)

Getting together with family is always a special time for me. Nothing profound has to happen. We don't have to be going somewhere or doing something. It's being in the same room with each other, sharing  memories and laughing - that's what I love. There's those good times and bad times in the dynamics of every family. And this weekend, with this family, happened to be one of those GOOD times!

 What greater thing is there for human souls than to feel that they are joined for life - to be with each other in silent unspeakable memories.

- George Elliot

Friendship

"Much of the vitality in a friendship lies in the honoring of differences, not simply in the enjoyment of similarities." 

We had a book club, my friends and I. Often our time together became one of sharing the mundane and the unusual in our daily lives while the book discussion was relegated to the end of the evening. But that was Ok with this beautiful diverse group of women. It wasn't so much the intensity of our conversations that built such a strong bond between us, but rather the honoring of each others' soul. 

Pat Russell (holding the pumpkin) was in the fight of her life on this evening several years ago. For 5 years she was in constant treatment for cancer - but always living life to the fullest, smiling through the pain, and sharing with us her gift of wisdom. She died bravely and left an incredible emptiness in our hearts for a very long time. I think of this faith-filled woman often these days, remembering how she walked lightly on this earth, treating everyone she encountered with love and reverence. I hope I can leave behind such a legacy.

"True friends are never forgotten. They live within our hearts and souls forever, and always dancing on our stage of memories."

Balloon Lady

I am beginning to learn that it is the sweet, simple things of life which are the real ones after all.  

- Laura Ingalls Wilder

 

Every Tuesday afternoon for the past 12 years, my friend JoAnn and I have been meeting with the elderly Benedictine Sisters in the infirmary at Benet Hill Monastery. We bring them a home-made dessert (which we take turns making) and spend an hour with them in fellowship and conversation. We call it our Tuesday Tea Party - even tho no one drinks tea! We always think of a question to tweak their memories and get them conversing about the past. It's been an unexpected blessing for us as they share their wisdom and memories.

When we first began doing this, JoAnn and I were working at the Monastery. We are both retired now, but they enjoyed it so much that we decided to continue. So every Tuesday afternoon, the two of us meet for lunch and make the 50 minute drive to the Monastery for our Tuesday Tea Party. This is where the balloon lady comes into the picture.

It was yesterday - Tuesday - and we were eating lunch at Chick Fil A before heading up to meet with the Sisters. From our booth, I noticed this woman making these balloon animals for all the young children in the restaurant. I watched their faces light up with big smiles as she twisted and turned those ordinary colorful balloons into works of art. When she passed by our booth, I asked if she would mind making one for me to bring to the Sisters. It's silly little things like this that also light up the faces of us "older" folks, so I knew I could find it a good home. And I did! Meet Sister Ernestine who is now the proud owner of her very own balloon-doggie.

I Agree!

Went out with Skip yesterday and we stopped for lunch at Culver's. While he was getting our food, I was busy people-watching from our booth and spied this dessert menu. Nothing profound about it, just made so much sense to me, tho. Life IS short - so enjoy the ride. Eat dessert! Find things to smile about. Practice kindness. And don't let negativity rule your life.
Now, if I can keep all these in mind, it will be a delightful day.

Camera Ready

Whenever Skip and I travel up into the mountains, I always keep my digital camera right by my side hoping that I will catch that "National Geographic" photograph of our resident wildlife. On our drives, we'll spend hours scouring the woods, the valleys and the sides of the roads, most often seeing nothing - but this day we were in the right place at the right time.

We were driving back from a day spent in Cripple Creek, a mountain gambling town located on the western side of Pikes Peak and about 60 miles from our home. Having left most of our money behind, we were in need of something to lift our spirits. The narrow two-lane road out of Cripple Creek is a constant series of sharp "s" curves that wind back and forth down the mountain with a steep drop-off on the left and a vertical rocky incline on the right. As we rounded one of the corners, my eyes happen to glimpse a herd of big-horned sheep vaulting up from my left. In a split second, they were darting across the road and scampering up the incline on the other side. And at that same moment I also heard the screeching of tires and saw the red brake lights of the vehicles in front of me as the traffic in both directions came to a complete standstill. I was driving, so I yelled for Skip to grab the camera and start shooting.

It was really an amazing site. Most female big horned sheep give birth to a single lamb (baby sheep) in the spring. Once the baby is strong enough to follow its mother, the pair joins other mothers and babies. This was just such a herd. Once they were all safely across the road, they took their time to regroup and climb up the rocks - every once in a while glancing back at all the curious on-lookers.

We are so fortunate to live in such a beautiful state as Colorado, and to be able to enjoy its variety of wildlife. For as long as I live, I will never tire of experiences like this.

BELLA

Cats are intended to teach us that not everything in nature has a purpose. 

- Garrison Keillor

I was in Denver one Mother’s Day (2008) visiting my daughter Danielle, and had a $100 bill burning a hole in my pocket - a gift from Skip. “Anything you want to do with that money is OK by me,” he had told me. Wonder if he regrets that statement now? It wasn’t 20 minutes after I told Danielle of my new-found money that she suggested we take a 15-minute trip to the Dumb Friend’s League – their local humane society. (For the record, I detest that they call our animal friends “dumb.”) A couple hours later, and $100 poorer, we walked out with the sweetest looking Manx cat named Bella. Not too much was known about her except that she was dropped off by the previous owner. All I could think of was she was going to make a perfect companion for our 5-year old beagle Buddy. I just KNEW they would become the best of friends.

The ride back to Colorado Springs was uneventful. Bella never moved once inside her little kennel. The staff had advised us to confine her to one room in our house to allow her to adjust to her new space, so when we arrived back in Colorado Springs we put her in our guest bedroom with food and water and opened the kennel door. We stepped back and just watched. She laid perfectly still – eyes straight ahead – frozen like a petrified little statue. So we slowly backed out of the room and closed the door to give Bella some space to explore her new surroundings.

Later in the early evening we went down to the bedroom to check on our new cat. After searching the 12 x 12 room for nearly 30 minutes without seeing even a whisker, we decided she must have found the perfect hiding space. For a week we never saw Bella. Food was being eaten, water was gone each morning and she was using the litter box – but still no sign of this elusive animal. I mean, how does one simply vanish in such a small space? Then came the day that I opened the door, saw her dive under the bed and immediately disappear. She had found the perfect place to elude her captors – a tiny tear in the box spring bottom allowed her to crawl up inside and make her home.

After several weeks, we opened the door hoping Bella would enjoy the run of the whole house. Months went by and still she kept to herself in the safety of her home under the mattress. I called Danielle one night crying, expressing my thoughts of giving Bella back to the humane society. How could this precious animal possibly be happy existing like this. But Danielle suggested we give her till Christmas to adjust. We had already had her five months with no signs of her bonding with us, let alone being a “buddy” to Buddy! And all I wanted was to have a little cat who would curl up on my lap and be my friend! Patience, Barbara.

Well, that was 24 months ago, and I eventually got the cat of my dreams. It actually took until Christmas (8 long months) for her to venture into the rest of the house, and another 8 months before she’d allow me to touch her. To this day, she will not allow anyone to pick her up. Everything has to be on her terms, which is Ok by me. Today she sleeps in a chair right next to my desk when I’m in my office, walks back and forth on my keyboard begging to be scratched and petted when I’m trying to work, and the minute I sit down in my living room chair, Bella is up on my lap making herself comfortable. She's now by our side from morning till night. Skip keeps saying, “guess we should be careful what we wish for.” As for Buddy, well Bella has no love for him at all. This little demure cat rules this house, and our sweet beagle gives her lots of space. I’m glad we rescued Bella – she’s been well worth the patience it took to incorporate her into our family. But I often wonder what kind of life she had before to make her so fearful of life. I so wish she could speak…