My husband grabbed his half-filled wine glass from the kitchen counter and headed outside. When I asked where he was going, he answered, "To give a toast to the stars." That morning, we had received the awful news that his beloved father had died, so I knew exactly what he meant. He came in several minutes later, with tears streaking his face.
It's never easy to lose someone you love, but when it's a parent, it's an unbeliveable sorrow. I experienced it in 1995, when my mother died, and again in 1998 with the death of my father. And, even now, I daily mourn their passing.
As a partner, you want to "make it better". In the past couple of days, I have embraced my husband, held his hand in church when I saw the sorrow in his eyes, wiped his tears, and talked with him. But I know that this is a sadness that will linger, getting easier to bear with time, but always there.
I thank God for loving family and friends who have sent touching messages and called to commiserate and to share memories. And there were many great stories to tell. He was the type of man who touched everyone's heart and left his imprint.
My father-in-law wasn't extraordinary by some standards. He was just a caring, hardworking, middle class male who worked hard to see that his family had the necessities of life. He liked to laugh, play the organ, fly model airplanes, read to his grandchildren, and help his three children with anything they asked of him.
In the last years of his life, he was a widower who found a special lady named Louise. The two of them danced every morning for exercise, spent social time with friends and planned for their future. Sadly, they only had two years to experience life together. It should have been more, for he declared he had never been happier.
Our daughter says it's hard for her to fathom that her parents are now the "heads of the family". That sounds odd to us, too. You just never imagine a world without your parents there for guidance and support - no matter how old you are or how old they get.
Last night, as our children and grandchildren gathered for a family wake, we reminisced about our favorite times with Dad and Grandpa. And, with laughter and tears, we raised our glasses and toasted to the stars. As I looked up, I'm sure I saw him smiling down at us - and that helped. Thanks, Dad.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Three Men I Admire - Who Inspire
Reading the title of this blog, I hope you don't think I have only three men in my life who inspire me; there are many, both part of my daily life as well as those I respect because of their work or good deeds. But, today, I'm speaking about the three who make up the male side of my writing group.
All three write with distinctively different voices, and I find all of their work well written and interesting to read. One has recently become a published author, and we cheer his success. When I'd entered this group, I was concerned that my style of writing wouldn't be accepted or critiqued honestly, but I have come to admire these three men because of their serious attention to my efforts. Let me explain.
As a general rule, men do not read character-driven women's fiction. My book develops from the reader's caring about what happens to the characters; in other words, the characters drive the story. That is different from the way plot-driven novels, such as those the men write, are constructed. To be honest, during some of our sessions, I have had to defend my writing because of this difference. But, even when they didn't exactly follow my writing path, they gave their honest attention to what I presented.
During our most recent session last week, however, I felt a break-through. We were critiquing a pivotal chapter in my novel, one I was nervous about. It was essential that the reader believe my characters because what happens influences major moments in the chapters to come. I'd worked on these pages extensively, but still needed a critical sounding board to know if I'd "nailed it".
The break-through from the men came when they each expressed emotions about the characters and their actions. For the first time, I felt they were really into where this novel is going, and were enjoying it. Such comments as, "I hope she breaks up with this guy" and "there's something about him - I'm not sure what - but I think she's smart enough to catch on to him soon" made me know I had hit a nerve. For men who don't read these kinds of books, they were hooked! And that meant, if I had captured their interest - and they were being led exactly where I wanted them to go in the reading - I had succeeded in more ways than one. It was the fuel I needed to keep going.
As I've explained in a previous post, this novel is being revised from one I've worked on for years. I believe in this book, but I always felt it needed more. I've been happy with how this latest revision work is proceeding, but to hear those enthusiastic words, from guys I respect - well - I couldn't be more inspired! So, now, back to work.
All three write with distinctively different voices, and I find all of their work well written and interesting to read. One has recently become a published author, and we cheer his success. When I'd entered this group, I was concerned that my style of writing wouldn't be accepted or critiqued honestly, but I have come to admire these three men because of their serious attention to my efforts. Let me explain.
As a general rule, men do not read character-driven women's fiction. My book develops from the reader's caring about what happens to the characters; in other words, the characters drive the story. That is different from the way plot-driven novels, such as those the men write, are constructed. To be honest, during some of our sessions, I have had to defend my writing because of this difference. But, even when they didn't exactly follow my writing path, they gave their honest attention to what I presented.
During our most recent session last week, however, I felt a break-through. We were critiquing a pivotal chapter in my novel, one I was nervous about. It was essential that the reader believe my characters because what happens influences major moments in the chapters to come. I'd worked on these pages extensively, but still needed a critical sounding board to know if I'd "nailed it".
The break-through from the men came when they each expressed emotions about the characters and their actions. For the first time, I felt they were really into where this novel is going, and were enjoying it. Such comments as, "I hope she breaks up with this guy" and "there's something about him - I'm not sure what - but I think she's smart enough to catch on to him soon" made me know I had hit a nerve. For men who don't read these kinds of books, they were hooked! And that meant, if I had captured their interest - and they were being led exactly where I wanted them to go in the reading - I had succeeded in more ways than one. It was the fuel I needed to keep going.
As I've explained in a previous post, this novel is being revised from one I've worked on for years. I believe in this book, but I always felt it needed more. I've been happy with how this latest revision work is proceeding, but to hear those enthusiastic words, from guys I respect - well - I couldn't be more inspired! So, now, back to work.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Another Year To Celebrate - And Remember
In the months leading up to my ninth birthday, I relished every shopping trip to the downtown Sears store in Miami because that was where I could stand in the bicycle department and covet the most beautiful bike I'd ever seen. It was a top of the line J.C. Higgins; blue and white, with red detailing. I knew my parents weren't able to afford it for me, but I could still imagine myself riding it in my dreams. I never shared this dream with them - or so I thought.
On my big day, my mother and dad explained that we had to go to Sears to get some tools my dad needed for his job. Once there, however, they walked me straight to the bike area where my secret desire on wheels stood. A salesperson approached us and, in shock - but grinning the entire time - I realized my parents were buying the bike for my birthday present! The only time I spoke was when my dad asked, "the man says they can deliver it tomorrow; is that okay with you?" I grabbed the handlebars and shyly asked, "Can't we take it home now?" I still hear my parents' laughter and my dad's words, "Well, sir, I guess we're taking it now!" Even more vivid in my brain is the image of me, walking my impossible dream come true across busy Biscayne Boulevard; my mom on one side, my dad on the other, traversing the crosswalk at a traffic light. In that moment, I was certain everyone viewing us thought I was the luckiest girl in the world! When I was older, my mother explained that my father had taken on extra jobs to get the money for that gift. It is a joyous birthday memory that needs no further explanation.
My twenty-first birthday holds an indelible memory, too, but one that was bittersweet. I was a newlywed of less than four months and had just spent Christmas in San Diego with my groom, who was stationed there with the Navy, soon to deploy for the second time to Vietnam. Only a few days before my birthday, we shared a tearful goodbye, him begging me to stay for my birthday and me, explaining that my parents had special plans for my twenty-first celebration and I couldn't let them down. I still remember looking out the plane window before the stairs were pulled away (this was before the days of enclosed loading ramps), seeing my husband's sad face as he waved to me, and feeling a strong desire to bolt down those steps and risk incurring my parent's disappointment. But the dutiful daughter in me prevailed and I felt the tears roll down my face as the plane taxied away from the terminal.
The welcome home, the gifts, the luxurious dinner at a skytop restaurant and all the happy tidings from family and friends were appreciated, but my longing to be back with my husband cast a cloud over it all. I was never able to hide my true feelings from my mother for long and she confronted me before bedtime. I surprised myself with my candor, having struggled for two days to keep my emotions inside. After she left me and I lay in bed crying, I could hear my dad from their bedroom, loudly asking, "Why didn't she stay there then? Why did she think she had to come home?" His tone was one of confusion, not condemnation. It was then that I realized I had mistakenly been thinking as a daughter first when I should have been thinking as a wife first and foremost. Within the week, my parents had given me the best birthday gift of all; a ticket back to California. Their understanding and forgiveness remain so strong for me. Decades later, I still recall their final hugs, smiles and words of support before I boarded that plane.
Today, I mark a milestone birthday and I feel extremely lucky to be celebrating with my family. Although my parents are no longer here to share with me, I know they are here in spirit. I still feel their love, laughter and good wishes because of the memories they created for me so long ago.
On my big day, my mother and dad explained that we had to go to Sears to get some tools my dad needed for his job. Once there, however, they walked me straight to the bike area where my secret desire on wheels stood. A salesperson approached us and, in shock - but grinning the entire time - I realized my parents were buying the bike for my birthday present! The only time I spoke was when my dad asked, "the man says they can deliver it tomorrow; is that okay with you?" I grabbed the handlebars and shyly asked, "Can't we take it home now?" I still hear my parents' laughter and my dad's words, "Well, sir, I guess we're taking it now!" Even more vivid in my brain is the image of me, walking my impossible dream come true across busy Biscayne Boulevard; my mom on one side, my dad on the other, traversing the crosswalk at a traffic light. In that moment, I was certain everyone viewing us thought I was the luckiest girl in the world! When I was older, my mother explained that my father had taken on extra jobs to get the money for that gift. It is a joyous birthday memory that needs no further explanation.
My twenty-first birthday holds an indelible memory, too, but one that was bittersweet. I was a newlywed of less than four months and had just spent Christmas in San Diego with my groom, who was stationed there with the Navy, soon to deploy for the second time to Vietnam. Only a few days before my birthday, we shared a tearful goodbye, him begging me to stay for my birthday and me, explaining that my parents had special plans for my twenty-first celebration and I couldn't let them down. I still remember looking out the plane window before the stairs were pulled away (this was before the days of enclosed loading ramps), seeing my husband's sad face as he waved to me, and feeling a strong desire to bolt down those steps and risk incurring my parent's disappointment. But the dutiful daughter in me prevailed and I felt the tears roll down my face as the plane taxied away from the terminal.
The welcome home, the gifts, the luxurious dinner at a skytop restaurant and all the happy tidings from family and friends were appreciated, but my longing to be back with my husband cast a cloud over it all. I was never able to hide my true feelings from my mother for long and she confronted me before bedtime. I surprised myself with my candor, having struggled for two days to keep my emotions inside. After she left me and I lay in bed crying, I could hear my dad from their bedroom, loudly asking, "Why didn't she stay there then? Why did she think she had to come home?" His tone was one of confusion, not condemnation. It was then that I realized I had mistakenly been thinking as a daughter first when I should have been thinking as a wife first and foremost. Within the week, my parents had given me the best birthday gift of all; a ticket back to California. Their understanding and forgiveness remain so strong for me. Decades later, I still recall their final hugs, smiles and words of support before I boarded that plane.
Today, I mark a milestone birthday and I feel extremely lucky to be celebrating with my family. Although my parents are no longer here to share with me, I know they are here in spirit. I still feel their love, laughter and good wishes because of the memories they created for me so long ago.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Should Old Acquaintance, Etc.
A year ago today, I posted a blog about what I should resolve for 2009. (You can read it in its entirety by locating it in the menu at the right: 2008, December, entitled "What To Resolve"). I settled on "being positive". Not an easy one, when faced with insurmountable reasons to do otherwise.
I said I would keep readers posted on how I was doing. Assessing the situation at year's end, I'd say I was successful 80% of the time - not bad, really. In the 20% of the time I failed to approach something in a positive way, I did usually berate myself for the defeat, so that counts for something too. In a year when there were so many depressing avenues I could have pursued, I'm pretty proud of my follow through. But I know I didn't accomplish it alone.
I have family and friends who never fail to support me, indulge me, and inspire me. But I don't always express to them how much my life depends on their love and friendship. So, my resolution for 2010 is to make certain they know. I plan to do this through written letter, phone communication, and conversations in person. It's way too easy to say to yourself, "They know how I feel" because to express it is sometimes difficult or just plain time consuming. Not an excuse in this day and age when we have so many avenues of expression. And it's too important to me.
I can honestly say that there are scores of people in my life who have no idea that knowing them has influenced or bettered my life; they have touched me, continue to touch me, and, by keeping their caring alive, I think I'll stay on that path of positiveness.
I also believe it will provide me with new threads of creativity. Connecting with other human beings - learning about their needs, their happiness, their goals - fuels me in many ways. Best of all, by doing it, I maintain those ties that are so important to me.
At the end of 2010, I want to be able to say that I've renewed some ties, strengthened others and fulfilled my resolution in a way that was good for both sides. I'll be even busier this next year, and that's a good thing.
I said I would keep readers posted on how I was doing. Assessing the situation at year's end, I'd say I was successful 80% of the time - not bad, really. In the 20% of the time I failed to approach something in a positive way, I did usually berate myself for the defeat, so that counts for something too. In a year when there were so many depressing avenues I could have pursued, I'm pretty proud of my follow through. But I know I didn't accomplish it alone.
I have family and friends who never fail to support me, indulge me, and inspire me. But I don't always express to them how much my life depends on their love and friendship. So, my resolution for 2010 is to make certain they know. I plan to do this through written letter, phone communication, and conversations in person. It's way too easy to say to yourself, "They know how I feel" because to express it is sometimes difficult or just plain time consuming. Not an excuse in this day and age when we have so many avenues of expression. And it's too important to me.
I can honestly say that there are scores of people in my life who have no idea that knowing them has influenced or bettered my life; they have touched me, continue to touch me, and, by keeping their caring alive, I think I'll stay on that path of positiveness.
I also believe it will provide me with new threads of creativity. Connecting with other human beings - learning about their needs, their happiness, their goals - fuels me in many ways. Best of all, by doing it, I maintain those ties that are so important to me.
At the end of 2010, I want to be able to say that I've renewed some ties, strengthened others and fulfilled my resolution in a way that was good for both sides. I'll be even busier this next year, and that's a good thing.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Remain In The Day
One of my favorite films is "Remains Of The Day". It tells the bittersweet story of two servants in an upper-class British mansion who love each other, silently, for years but never express it in words to each other, not even years later when they meet again. I admire the work because of the intelligent script, the perfection with which Anthony Hopkins and Emma Thompson portray their characters, and the insight I never fail to gain by observing the immense difference between the British classes of that time. Even though I've watched the film numerous times, I always cry openly at its tragic ending.
I recently read an article about British actor, Bill Nighy, in which he talked about his recent role in "Pirate Radio" and an observation he made while doing that film. The observation had to do with retrospective insight. His words spoke to me. He quoted a line from the film about how people think when reminiscing : "Those were the days of my life." He countered with the notion, "These are the days of my life," going on to explain that he wasn't going to search the past, or the future, for clues about how to celebrate life. He said he planned to "remain in the day, and experience it fully."
"Remain in the day" - perfect advice, especially in these tormenting times of financial and personal unrest. The challenge is not in looking backward to better times, or in projecting gloom and doom for the future based on what might happen. If, instead, you "stay in the moment", applying all your energies to what you can do now, focusing on what is in your life at this moment that is positive, and taking that power and insight and using it to make today the most important time of all, it certainly seems to me the better use of your mental and physical talents.
The last scene in "Remains Of The Day" between Hopkins and Thompson is a silent farewell that borders, for the viewer, on agony. I want so much for one of them to say something or do something that will change the moment into one that will benefit them both. The title of the film is never more true than it is in that scene. I feel they both lose because they are focused too much on past convention and future uncertainty. It makes for a memorable cinema moment, yes, but I grieve for their loss.
I must admit I try but sometimes fail to live in the day myself. I want to, I know I'm more productive when I do, and I know those around me are happier when I do. But it's not something you just "do". It takes concentration and perseverence because it's easier to blame the past or to give up before you make the effort to try. I think I'm getter better at it and Nighy's words gave me a push to "get back in the game". I'll keep you posted on how I'm doing.
I recently read an article about British actor, Bill Nighy, in which he talked about his recent role in "Pirate Radio" and an observation he made while doing that film. The observation had to do with retrospective insight. His words spoke to me. He quoted a line from the film about how people think when reminiscing : "Those were the days of my life." He countered with the notion, "These are the days of my life," going on to explain that he wasn't going to search the past, or the future, for clues about how to celebrate life. He said he planned to "remain in the day, and experience it fully."
"Remain in the day" - perfect advice, especially in these tormenting times of financial and personal unrest. The challenge is not in looking backward to better times, or in projecting gloom and doom for the future based on what might happen. If, instead, you "stay in the moment", applying all your energies to what you can do now, focusing on what is in your life at this moment that is positive, and taking that power and insight and using it to make today the most important time of all, it certainly seems to me the better use of your mental and physical talents.
The last scene in "Remains Of The Day" between Hopkins and Thompson is a silent farewell that borders, for the viewer, on agony. I want so much for one of them to say something or do something that will change the moment into one that will benefit them both. The title of the film is never more true than it is in that scene. I feel they both lose because they are focused too much on past convention and future uncertainty. It makes for a memorable cinema moment, yes, but I grieve for their loss.
I must admit I try but sometimes fail to live in the day myself. I want to, I know I'm more productive when I do, and I know those around me are happier when I do. But it's not something you just "do". It takes concentration and perseverence because it's easier to blame the past or to give up before you make the effort to try. I think I'm getter better at it and Nighy's words gave me a push to "get back in the game". I'll keep you posted on how I'm doing.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Welcoming A New Family Member
Anyone who has read my blog from the beginning knows I am a dog nut. Dogs have been a part of my life throughout my life, and I can't imagine it any other way.
So, it should be no surprise that the "new family member" in the title of this piece refers to a canine. My husband and I have wanted a second dog since saying goodbye to Rascal over two years ago. Unfortunately, circumstances kept preventing that. But recently we found a loophole, so to speak. We learned that our county animal shelter would allow anyone 65 or older (my husband fits that description) to adopt a dog for $1.00! So, off we went to the shelter and, by late afternoon, Shayla had been welcomed into our home.
Shayla is a beautiful 3-year old black Labrador, well behaved, loving, and, best of all, accepted by our 10-year-old hound, Molly Brown. More specifically, Molly is tolerating her at this stage, but each day brings new bonding between the two of them. Yesterday they chased each other around the backyard with playful glee; I haven't seen Molly exercise that much since Rascal was alive! Molly has taken to sleeping near Shayla for part of each night, and she accepts - most of the time - Shayla's attempts to play with her, although she walks away from such invitations so far. But Shayla's only been here for two weeks; I predict they'll be pals before much more time passes.
With the exception of two, all of the dogs we have owned have come from shelters or been abandoned and adopted by us. We promote this way of getting a canine to add to your family. There is just something about rescuing a shelter dog that adds to the love quotient in my heart. We're both winners in this scenario.
The best part of adopting Shayla is the added joy she brings to everyone in the family; she is that bigger dog that's been missing for so long. We know without reserve that we couldn't have found a better canine to fit that empty space. We know that her love and devotion will only add to our homefront blessings.
I'm sure you'll be hearing more about Shayla in future posts; about Molly's acceptance of her, about how she's fitting in to our routines, about her discoveries and our discoveries of her. So, welcome, Shayla, to the wild and wacky Ogren clan!
NOTE: I was felled by a virus in November that had me in bed for over two weeks and I spent the rest of the month recuperating. I hope to be back at my writing full steam beginning this week.
So, it should be no surprise that the "new family member" in the title of this piece refers to a canine. My husband and I have wanted a second dog since saying goodbye to Rascal over two years ago. Unfortunately, circumstances kept preventing that. But recently we found a loophole, so to speak. We learned that our county animal shelter would allow anyone 65 or older (my husband fits that description) to adopt a dog for $1.00! So, off we went to the shelter and, by late afternoon, Shayla had been welcomed into our home.
Shayla is a beautiful 3-year old black Labrador, well behaved, loving, and, best of all, accepted by our 10-year-old hound, Molly Brown. More specifically, Molly is tolerating her at this stage, but each day brings new bonding between the two of them. Yesterday they chased each other around the backyard with playful glee; I haven't seen Molly exercise that much since Rascal was alive! Molly has taken to sleeping near Shayla for part of each night, and she accepts - most of the time - Shayla's attempts to play with her, although she walks away from such invitations so far. But Shayla's only been here for two weeks; I predict they'll be pals before much more time passes.
With the exception of two, all of the dogs we have owned have come from shelters or been abandoned and adopted by us. We promote this way of getting a canine to add to your family. There is just something about rescuing a shelter dog that adds to the love quotient in my heart. We're both winners in this scenario.
The best part of adopting Shayla is the added joy she brings to everyone in the family; she is that bigger dog that's been missing for so long. We know without reserve that we couldn't have found a better canine to fit that empty space. We know that her love and devotion will only add to our homefront blessings.
I'm sure you'll be hearing more about Shayla in future posts; about Molly's acceptance of her, about how she's fitting in to our routines, about her discoveries and our discoveries of her. So, welcome, Shayla, to the wild and wacky Ogren clan!
NOTE: I was felled by a virus in November that had me in bed for over two weeks and I spent the rest of the month recuperating. I hope to be back at my writing full steam beginning this week.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
The Ultimate Day For Thanks
I love Thanksgiving for many reasons; our offspring, their partners and our grandchildren sharing a huge feast at our house, we all indulge in conversation, laughs, and games while making new memories and reminiscing about old ones, and we take a few moments to express aloud what each of us is thankful for. But this year I have an additional reason for this grateful celebration: We have all survived!
Our family has survived some of the worst financial woes that were responsible for endless stress, crazy schedules and non-stop pursuit of remedies for our darkest nightmares. No, we are not all rich and lazy yet; long way to go to get to that (if we ever do!) But, I am so proud of "us" for remaining positive and forward thinking through all the crap we've had to endure.
We have certainly been luckier than most: we all have kept our respective roofs over our heads, have never gone without some kind of food on the table, and we all have jobs of one kind or another. But it has still been scary - and we've been very lucky with having understanding landlords, and friends and family who have come to our aid.
So, on this ultimate day of thanks, I find myself looking toward the New Year with thoughts of new adventures, better times and, best of all, still having my family around me to spur me on when I falter. I know that everything is getting better and will continue to do so.
At our dinner table today, when I'm asked what I'm thankful for, it will be difficult to name just one thing - there are so many happenings, so many gifts of love, caring and giving and I don't want to leave anyone or anything out. I guess I'll just say, "Thank you ALL for helping me realize throughout this difficult time that I can survive anything. I have people around me who never fail to give me cause to fight for a better day.
Happy Thanksgiving All!
Our family has survived some of the worst financial woes that were responsible for endless stress, crazy schedules and non-stop pursuit of remedies for our darkest nightmares. No, we are not all rich and lazy yet; long way to go to get to that (if we ever do!) But, I am so proud of "us" for remaining positive and forward thinking through all the crap we've had to endure.
We have certainly been luckier than most: we all have kept our respective roofs over our heads, have never gone without some kind of food on the table, and we all have jobs of one kind or another. But it has still been scary - and we've been very lucky with having understanding landlords, and friends and family who have come to our aid.
So, on this ultimate day of thanks, I find myself looking toward the New Year with thoughts of new adventures, better times and, best of all, still having my family around me to spur me on when I falter. I know that everything is getting better and will continue to do so.
At our dinner table today, when I'm asked what I'm thankful for, it will be difficult to name just one thing - there are so many happenings, so many gifts of love, caring and giving and I don't want to leave anyone or anything out. I guess I'll just say, "Thank you ALL for helping me realize throughout this difficult time that I can survive anything. I have people around me who never fail to give me cause to fight for a better day.
Happy Thanksgiving All!
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