The Carved Out Heart

“The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.
Is not the cup that hold your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter’s oven?
And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?”

I once read this and it made an impression. After a particularly bad break up, my mother also explained it to me. She said that when you fall in love and it doesn’t work out, it hurts and burns your soul. And each time you get hurt, and it carves out a little bit more of your soul.  And each time you hurn, you hurt a little deeper and a little deeper. And each time you love, because of how deep your soul and heart have been carved out, you love a little deeper each time too. And so is the cycle. My mother is a very wise woman.

And the past few years have been so very hard with so very much pain and betrayal. And now when I love, my soul and heart have been carved clean by the pain, and all that is left is deep, and pure, and all of it.  Yes, at the end of the carved out heart, is the all of it.

And because of the all of it, I can love my family, my friends, my lovers, with so much more than I ever could before. And while I wold never want to go through the past few years again, I realized that all that pain and emotion was not in vain. It was simply burning out the impurities.

Of course you really cannot see that, when you are in the middle of the thick of it, knee deep, heart sick and soul troubled. But then the fog clears, and the sun peaks out. And you realize that life isn’t over, it hasn’t killed you and you can go on. But the heart must be carved out first.

 

The Trip

Everyone has those great trips, where memories are made, where there is laughter, thoughts, wine and good times. I went to Washington DC recently to visit one of my older sisters. It had been a long time since we really spoke and talked of things, of both little and great importance. We have not been overly close, though I do suspect a mutual curiosity. It was the perfect time.

Friday was delicious home made dinner followed by wine and conversation and the family dinner table.  Saturday was venturing into the city, seeing the monuments. Jefferson was my favorite, though the Vietnam Wall had the biggest affect on me.  To actually see that many names, to take your finger and touch the wall, touch the names of the young men, was very powerful. Lincoln and FDR Memorials were my favorites too.  The history of these monuments, and that of these men, and of this country. They truly loved and believed in this country, something that is surely lacking now.

There was the jump on and off buses, the Zen of the FDR and why it is her favorite. There was the Capital Building and the National Archives. There were different people walking, laughing and touristing, just like us, though my sister lives in the area. She made sure that I read the history and saw cool things, that she herself had seen many times. She was patient with me, as I looked around, wide-eyed and reading so many of the quotes and inscriptions. She was just like a big sister. And it was very nice.

Next was the Smithsonian Museum of Space and Air. And again she was so patient as I looked and read everything.  She had been there too many times to count, because that is where everyone wants to go, including me.  Her favorite was the Natural History Museum (hope I have that right). I wanted to go not only to see space suits and things like the space shuttle (which is not actually there, but they do have pieces of it), but to see part of what our father worked on so many years ago when he lived in DC. He worked on ballistic Missiles called Nike-Zeus, Atlas and a few other things. They really didn’t have much there that he worked on, but it was very interesting to see the things that he might have worked on, things his friends might have worked on.  The day came to a close over a funny movie and Chinese take out.

We went to church the next morning, something I needed, my should needed and my heart needed. Going to church together was a quietly sweet experience.

And I left with so much than with what I came. In addition to great conversations about life, love, family, faith, God, new experiences that are coming, some recipes and instructions for prayer and meditation, I left with wonderful memories and  a new appreciation for someone I am so glad I had the chance and took the time to get to know better. My only regret is that I did not make the trip sooner.

In this day and age of bigger, better, faster and the flashier the better, we cannot forget to spend time with family. To take the time to build relationships, to talk about things that that matter and to not forget from where we came, and what we have in common.

When I talked to my Dad about going, his face lit up and talked about how much this trip meant to him too. What we do has an affect on those around us. When we operate with love, love is returned to us, and to all those around.  When we operate in fear and lies, the same is returned and damages all those who come in contact. Treat your family well, with care, with love and with tender handling. Because they are the only family you have.

 

 

The Eve

It is this night, this eve, this moment in time, after which my life will not ever be the same. And on this is eve, there is excitement, fear, happiness and calm. There are lists of things that need to be done, and the desire to just relax and enjoy the fireflies.

It is this eve that marks a new time, a new chapter and new life going forward.  It is an eve to treasure each. and. every. moment. Because this is the last eve that everything will be the same.

And after this eve, I will look back at tonight, and all those that came before, and be thankful for it all, the good and the bad.

And so it, on this eve.

This Father’s Day

I wrote this about my Dad several years ago. It describes how I see him and the man he is. Every Father’s Day I post it on several sights. It’s a few days late this year, things were busy and I did not make it to the computer to post.

He is doing much better now, My father. He is feeling good, more energy than he has had a quite a while, and is in very good spirits. He was s out working quite a bit this weekend, enjoying being with his family, laughing, kissing Mom and the cheek, saying those funny one liners with his incredible dry sense of humor. So here is my Father’s Day tribute to my Dad:

My Dad is like one of those men from the old movies.  The hero.  A man of few words rides into town, stands up for what he believes in, and touches everyone around him.

He leads by example:  Loyalty, honesty and spirituality.  Always keep your word.  Hold family close and God Closer.

My Dad has worked very hard to make a business and a reputation many would envy.  He’s worked hard to give his family the kind of life and opportunities where we would want for nothing.  He has integrity and honor, and those are not easy qualities to find these days.

He has been a wonderful example of a man, a father and a human being.  From quietly asking mom about our dates to sharing boiled peanuts and beer, to watching thunderstorms and lighting with us.

He has taught me so many things about life, just by example.  And he is the best father a girl could ever hope to have. I have so many wonderful memories of him growing up, and as an adult.  Like him, try to read fairy tails to me and mispronouncing the names – like “Ra-pun-zel”, or reciting the bedtime story of “Once upon a time, a deer drank wine…”

Then the is “Piddles Jumping Spunker” and Chief Beer Fetcher in Charge (CBFC), can’t forget being the Cowstail, or all the lessons on the bottom shelf.

He taught me how to change the oil in my car, how to rotate my own tires, change the break pads and calipers, check the spark plugs (when cars actually had spark plugs). I remember going out to dinner with him, and how he opened my doors for me, pulled out my chair, found out what I wanted to eat and ordered for me. Always wanting to make sure that I was happy.

I will always love his voice, his hands, the way he smells and his little smile. Yes, I will always love my Daddy. The first man to make me feel safe and secure, the man who has always been the example of how a man should treat a woman, and how I should expect a man to treat me.

And he gave me the best Christmas present I have ever been given. One he hand made a wonderful case for my Barbie Dolls, complete with a little mirror for them, a place to hang all their little clothes, and he even hand made these little wire hangers for all their clothes to hang. I still have it and it is one of my most cherished possessions.

For these and so many reasons, too many to list, I am proud to call Jim Burch my Dad.  If I could have looked out and chosen who my father would be, I would have chosen you.

Love you Dad.  Happy Father’s Day.

When a Klutz Mows the Lawn

There is nothing quite like experiencing life as a Klutz. Take it from me, nicknamed The Pinktank since I was a child. Life is a series of missed steps, wrong-in, bad outs, embarrassing moments, almost disasters, slippery treads, delightful trips, spills and fumbles…and that’s just for starters.

For much of my adulthood, I have been banned from using my  parents riding lawn mower. It’s much like my eternal ban from snow-skiing – there are just certain things which in which a klutz should never partake.

So a few weeks ago when I was at my parents house, helping out because my father was so sick, the idea of me mowing the lawn came up. And it was passed that yes, at the tender age of 41, I would finally be allowe3d to used that elusive riding lawn mower. As my father shgowe3d me how to use it, where the gears where, what they did and when to shift, I was almost giddy I was so excited.

And then, it was time. My father handed me the keys, smiled a half wistful, half OMG-I-hope-she-does-drive-this-thing-iunto-the-water look.  And as I climbed up on the powerful machine, I felt like an adult. I turned the ignition and felt the horse power. this was going to be fun.

And indeed it was.   That little lawn mower could go, fast. I remember watching the TV show Home Improvement with Tim Allen. There was one episode where he and his Tool Time co-host did some kind of race with riding lawn mowers. I did not understand how this could be fun or exciting until I got on one  myself. And it was full throttle. I was zipping around the yard, mowing the long over grown grass, having a blast. I was doing donuts around the trees and loving it.

And then.

And then something happened. I thought I left enough space, but I didn’t. I felt a jar as it happened, then I turned around to see it. And t here is was…the water pump I had just run over, water spewing out of it about a foot or so high. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I just sat there, lawn mower running, for just a moment, staring at the water pouring out of the broken pipe.

Crap. (not the word used) I ran over the water pump. I will never live this down.

I ran in  and got my Dad, his immediate question of “what did you do??” ringing in my ears.

“Well, at least I didn’t drive it  into the water,” I said, smiling sheepishly.

And hour and a half later, with the help of my wonderful father and amazing boyfriend, the water pump was fixed. We had to turn of the water to the  house – during the hottest part of the day – saw both ends of the broken pipe to make sure it was a smooth “Break”, get new piping, put glue-stuff on it, and attach it to the old piping. Piece of cake. Thank goodness my dad was around to tell us how to do it.

And that is what happens when a klutz mows the lawn.

I did gt back up on the mower and finished the yard, without incident. I went slow and did no more donuts around the trees…but man it was worth it, having all that fun. And sometimes you just have to have fun anyway, live a little, enjoy the moment and do donuts around the tress and such. Make a fool of yourself, laugh out load and just say the heck with the rules. Just make sure you don;t run over the water pump in the process!

I can hear you laughing.

Fireflies Dance

In adulthood, there are very few things that are still magic, that still capture our imagination and remind us of childhood and the time when you could still fly to the moon on your bike.  One of those things for me are fireflies. Since I was a child, these magic little bugs seemed to come from the mythic places of legends; where dragons, fairies and mermaids lived. They were left over from king Author’s gardens, somewhere between Narnia and Neverland, and everywhere magic and mystery lived.

And yet here they were, these fireflies, in the yard flashing their magic beauty.  Yes I was fascinated by them as a child.

I remember the first time I really saw them. I was at my grandmother’s house and maybe about six or seven. And they were everywhere, hundreds of them.  My grandmother asked if I wanted to capture them in a jar, but I decided not to after find thing out that they would die if kept in the jar. I wanted them free, out in the fresh air.

When I lived in Ohio many years ago, I would see them in the woods next to the apartment complex  where I lived. My then boyfriend and I would sit on the fence, watching them dance in the evening air, like little diamonds flashing on the horizon when it finally got dark.

And just a few nights ago. I saw a tiny flash out of the corner of my eye. My heart skipped a beat – it is the right time of the year…I stopped what I was doing and ran to the back yard window. And there they were, dancing and sparkling in the night sky. A little army of fireflies, my little army of magic. And I had to stand and watch them, as they performed their nightly ritual, with a grin on my face from ear to ear.

It’s truly the little things in life. And you must always take the time to stop and notice, listen and see. For the little things are what makes life worth it, what makes the bad bearable and the good even better.

And now every night, I take the time to notice these little miracles, that seem to dance just for me, putting on  a private show in my back yard.  And just for a few moments, I am taken away from all the troubles and thoughts. And I just smile. If these little bugs can light up the night sky, certainly I can raise above and shine bright as well.