I Know Like I Know 2015

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Wisdom comes from anything that has ever healed in your life. The intensity and number of those things varies throughout your life. I’ve often quoted Zora Neale Hurston’s view of some years ask the questions and some years answer them. With the years that answer comes the healing and the wisdom. With what could have become a downward spiral came the answers this year.

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We lost our Lina to a nasty cancer that moved quickly and thoroughly allowing only enough time for us to realize that this little girl who suffered so terribly from anxiety her whole life could indeed be brave. Her sister showed us how to heal in the most basic way, forget yourself and give your love to someone else, her Gramma. This is the love affair that saved us all.

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I had the pleasure of being a part of two very different stories this year. Spending time with Ida and learning how to make ravioli in her company along with her family will stay with me forever. Food traditions are a recurring theme on this blog, and so important to the development of individual and family legacies. Documenting them is becoming more and more imperative so they are not lost.

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Along those lines I had the privilege of reading and sharing a wonderful story about my friend Bill’s father. He had documented his feelings about the world and his place in it when Bill was just a year old. In retrospect he set about embracing and living up to his story in big and small ways. What a treasure to preserve for generations to come.

Story preservation kept ringing in my ears, these lessons taught unwittingly with integrity and honesty are invaluable. From the tiniest gestures, to the unique talents, to the surprises and family folklore and secrets our elders are an untapped resource that I fear will be lost. And so the Elder Beauty Project started to take shape. This coming year I hope you’ll give some thought to highlighting someone in your life and contact this story preservationist to assist.

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Through some serendipitous clicking around the internet my sister and I found ourselves on a mountain in Ludlow VT. More than once after our return we’ve found ourselves saying it’s the best thing we’ve ever done. Green Mountain at Fox Run provided hope among the birch with lessons on Food, Movement and Mindfulness. Most importantly they provided a very safe place to make it your intention to let go of something that no longer serves you. And that we did.

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For me it was letting go of my story. The one I’ve been carrying around for decades, the one that wasn’t mine to carry around, and the one that I feared would become my legacy. The most courageous thing that I have done to date is write my story, and the story of ordinary legacy, and submit it to Women for One for consideration as one of their Truthtellers. Happily, gratefully, humbly they accepted and published my story, I am now a Truthteller. That my story may somehow help someone else in a similar situation is of great comfort to me but the healing has been of even greater solace. With healing comes the wisdom.

Blogger Recognition Award 2015

I was also nominated for a blogger recognition award. I don’t know if there is an actual award or if someone simply thought highly enough of my work to give it recognition through sharing but I am grateful to Maria Baird of Manifesting Me none the less.

This is the first year in many decades that I’ve had my picture taken and shared so often. Frankly I’ve had my picture taken more this year than in the last ten years. I’ve spent an eternity behind the camera but never in front. It became clear to me through all this good work that if your intention is to leave a legacy they may as well know what you look like, no? Now I’d love to find someone who can really capture who I really am on film, stay tuned.

The year was filled with friends, old, new and new/old. Retirement (41)

 

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Not least among them was Wanda. She shared her beautiful Cape home, her sorrows and her joys with me as if we’d just hung up from each other last week. It is a wonderful gift to connect with someone so quickly with complete trust. I look forward to sharing all that is the story of us in the coming years.

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I finally found Instagram. Seriously, I started a 365 in November and am enjoying the hell out of it. You can find me on Instagram @ordinarylegacy or you can follow the hashtag #lifeonstowelane. I know you’re shocked by both of those. There is that moment when you realize that a hashtag of your own is cool but other common hashtags can connect you to others and some very funny or poignant stories and oh yeah it can connect people to you…#wetdog is a favorite as is #fromwhereistand. Took me awhile but this old dog learned a new trick, just sayin.

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And so this was the year of wisdom through healing. Watching my mother, aka Gramma, with Toti Nonna has made me realize all we ever really need is a loving connection. Watching my sister let go of the grief that no longer serves her has brought laughter and ease and renewal. Watching others heal through my words has brought gratitude and responsibility. Healing has brought me wisdom. I look forward, like never before, to the coming year, the coming decade and the continued wisdom it will bring. I hope you will continue to honor me with your presence on Ordinary Legacy and join me in preserving even more stories through the Elder Beauty Project.  Stay tuned to find out what’s happening on Stowe Lane…

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I Know Like I Know 2014

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“That is what learning is. You suddenly understand something you’ve understood all your life, but in a new way.”  ― Doris Lessing

It should no longer surprise me how fast a year goes by, it’s the toilet paper roll philosophy of aging…just sayin.  So what has been learned in this nanosecond of a year? So much I hardly know where to begin.

My life revolves around food, shocking I know, as evidenced in some wonderful time spent around the table with dear friends.  The way I can’t operate without mise en place or the farmer’s market or people around my table. That anyone around my table is family and that my family has grown exponentially.

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I’ve learned that there is a scheme of things, that “in here life is beautiful”, that I love meeting old friends for the first time, that providing value is more important than another’s view of success, that a bit of nostalgia is perfect but getting stuck in the past will never do you any good and that the Cape will be there in some form or another going forward.

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I’ve learned how to take a sick day and that you can’t escape an Italian mother’s curse.  Somehow I’ve become that woman downstairs that a five year old had to apologize to after pitching such a bad fit down the stairs that shit fell off my walls. Yeah, this has been an education.

I’ve learned that air texting, idiot drivers and “that guy” haven’t moved off the, “you are really annoying” list, that I suck at 30 day challenges and to give in to the full moon.  I’m a world class putterer and that the art of creative stretchery is within everyone’s reach.  Thank you Houston for welcoming a Yankee with an accent and an itch.

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When Pope Francis recently sought to comfort a distraught boy whose dog had died, the pontiff took the sort of pastoral approach he is famous for — telling the youngster not to worry, that he would one day see his pet in heaven.

“Paradise is open to all of God’s creatures,” Francis said reassuringly.  I’m trusting this wisdom as we begin Lina’s chemo tomorrow in the hopes that we don’t need to be reassured for quite some time. That we will be providing a longer life with good quality is my deepest hope for this year and next.

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“Because I trust in the ever-changing climate of the heart. (At least, today I feel that way.) I think it is necessary to have many experiences for the sake of feeling something; for the sake of being challenged, and for the sake of being expressive, to offer something to someone else, and to learn what we are capable of.” ― Jason Mraz

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I believe after writing this tiny little blog for the last five years that a community has been born.  A wonderful group of ordinary people who believe in legacy, in life lived with a story to be told and a willingness to share bits of themselves. For each of you and for my own lessons learned I am grateful.  I hope that you’ll take the time to go back and read what you might have missed and invite others to join our community.

See you in 2015.

So Much Water Moving Underneath the Bridge

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There are things that just occur to you sometimes, like this year was my twentieth on the Cape. It is as vivid to me today as it was twenty years ago that my Summer Sister scooped me up and brought me to a porch with a rocking chair in a picturesque town to try and exhale, or at lease stop hyperventilating. Exhaling might have to wait a few years. She is dear to me in the way she curated my new beginning, this new place, the possibilities. Thus began my healing, her healing, our everlasting friendship and the sand in our shoes.

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We would return over and over, each year around the same time, in the middle of summer between my sister’s birthday and himself’s birthday to a lovely B & B to do what we do on the Cape. First, lobster at the Squire. Come hell or high water we were there, grubby from the ride, once during a hurricane (Danny I believe) it was always first on the list. It was the event that began our visit on the Thursday we arrived. That’s right we were Thursday to Sunday girls, swooping in for a whirlwind, get everything out of our systems and hit the highlights and be on our way refreshed and sure that we had covered everything. Our highlights were the Friday night band concert in the town square, the whatever-was-being-performed at the Monomoy Theater, and at least two more exquisite dinners. We once had lobster at every meal. Our days were spent at the beach, reading from each other’s “bag-o-books” (there were no readers then) and talking through whatever needed to be talked through.

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This was the first decade, not sure I’d ever see those words coming out of me but there they are. I began my Chatham Pottery collection during that time, picked up my camera again (then put it down…) we both learned more about perennial gardens and booked our next year’s visit on the way out of town. There came a time when our favorite B&B was sold and there was nowhere to book for the following year.

Enter Willow Street. My dear friends owned a home in West Harwich that served as a summer rental, and so began the next decade on the Cape. The Thursday through Sunday became Sunday to Sunday. The throw-a-few –things in a bag became, the clothing bag, the kitchen bag, the “bag-o-books” and later still there was a dog bag (that blessing needs an entire other post).   The middle of summer became a week in June and a week in September. There were times when we were all on the Cape and times when it was just me.

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I have to say that I sometimes fantasized about living year round on the Cape and everyone would come to visit. I would perhaps own the little house on Willow Street someday but then my life changed in a truly epic way. The advent of condo living on my beloved Stowe Lane changed my life; my views of home ownership, my tolerance for being away from it grew thinner and thinner. The little house on Willow faded out of the vision for my life with its tiny kitchen and maintenance requirements. I became immediately enamored with paying a maintenance fee and things happening, like lawns being cut and trimmed, gutters being cleaned and most importantly SNOW being plowed. Thank you very much.

In this twentieth year I must confess I was a bit underwhelmed at packing the assortment of bags for my week on the Cape, I was disappointed that those friends who thought they could join me weren’t able to swing it, I was a little bit more rickety after getting out of the well-worn bed and the girls were having a little trouble with the three mile walk to and from the beach. One of the true highlights has become meeting up with the Aunt Ms in Ptown. That thrills me and brings the Cape feeling back over and over. The beach still had its hold on me though and I love love love a screaming hot latte in the early morning on the beach with no one around. The smell of the Cape is like a salve for me I can’t get enough of it and it is impossible to duplicate.

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This was the first year in many years that I was able to see a performance at the Monomoy. They usually don’t begin the season until July but I was thrilled to take myself to see Kiss Me Kate. The kids were fabulous, they killed the Tom, Dick and Harry number and the Too Darn Hot number was awesome as well but it wasn’t the same as sharing it with my Summer Sister. The funniest part was my will-call was first row on the aisle. Apparently that was Jane’s seat and the dear bitty subscribers were whispering up a storm, there is no subtlety from year rounder’s on the Cape.   From two rows back I hear, “Is Jane coming back?” The woman seated next to me patted my hand and turned around to tell them Jane would not be coming back. This sets up a whole another scenario, “So dear, are you on the Cape alone?” I half expected to see Sam Shepard (Baby Boom) enter from the garden….you can’t make it up but it was much appreciated to be swept up by the bittys.

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And so it was with a bit of relief that I found out that the house on Willow Street was sold and the closing would be in August. Ever the helpful woman, Trudy, had several options for me. There was a week in July, two other rentals to check out or a refund. My heart told me to accept the refund and keep open to the possibilities.  For those of you who know my very dear friend Terry, you will know exactly what this sounded like: So San??? Is this the end of an era?

God I hope not…there were so many breakthroughs this year. First, not crying all the way through my four hour conversation with my Father on the way up was not the least among them. Then the realization that, I’m really still a Thursday to Sunday kind of traveler, I am thrilled to walk back into my home.

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The blessing of Uncle Pete taking care of the girls so I can be away without a care in the world. But the Cape is still part of me and helped make me what I am today. The Cape taught me to exhale, walk more, eat fine food, be alone but not lonely, share myself with perfect strangers wherever I went. I could no more give up the Cape then give up writing.

They say once you can talk about it without emotion you are well on your way to being healed, in my case the “it” was the hard life I left behind, but the friendship that has remained. The “it” was the constant worry that has been replaced by the “know like I know” that I have some power. My life now is indeed running rings around the way it used to be and yes there are times that I do wish I’d started long before I did but would it be as it is now? So much water underneath the bridge, for now I am looking forward to the Summer Sisters return to the Cape. I know like I know we can figure that out.