Tag: writing

Quote of the day…hope of the day

~ oneletterup ~ 12 Comments

light in forest

 

I have a certain way of being in the world, and I shall not, I shall not be moved from doing what I think is right by jealousy, ignorance, or hate.

Maya Angelou

 

When recently asked about “the haters” by an 8 year old boy, Patriots quarterback Tom Brady responded with a smile.

…the haters? We love ’em! We love ’em back!
Because we don’t hate back.

Just about knocked me off my feet getting dressed one morning last week. While watching Good Morning America’s “kid correspondent” interview football players at the pre-Super Bowl media events.

No matter what you think of TB12 or the Patriots or even football, that answer shines a bright light. What a concept: Love them back.

Perhaps easy for someone like Brady, who is privileged and insulated from those aforementioned haters. Who troll on his Instagram feed and who knows what else.

However…
What a concept for a child to hear from a public persona. A role model even.
And…dare I say…for adults to hear as well.
ADULTS.
Who, it seems, in the last couple of years have grouped themselves into political camps of haters…on one side or the other. Who is in charge in the USA. And who isn’t.

Notice I don’t say haters and non-haters. There is too little visible love on either side. There is just hate, distrust and fear for the “other.” Whether it be the other political party, the other politician, the Other who looks nothing like you or sounds nothing like you. Or doesn’t think like you.

In many cases, this fear slips out…crossing that invisible line…morphing into hurtful anger directed at those you profess to love. Your partner. Your parent. Your sister. Your brother. Your best friend. Your child. Because they disagree with what you hate. Or don’t hate.

How could he believe that?
How could she vote for him?
How could he vote for her?
I just can’t visit them anymore.

Is it fear…or ignorance…
Or perhaps inescapable helplessness.
Doors slamming
As reality tilts and shifts.

Right becoming righteous
When grounded in hate…
Blindly insisting on one way.
Shades of gray disappearing…
Crowding out space for understanding why…
And where do we go from here.

In the end
Reaching for what
is right…
begins with
tolerance
respect…
for our shared humanity.

With empathy…
somehow…
someday…
hopefully
we will
inch
closer
to
loving the haters.

At least it’s a start.

 

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This post inspired by V.J.’s Weekly Challenge #34: Reaching
and An Upside Down World

 

Tuesday Photo Challenge – Rose

~ oneletterup ~ 12 Comments

Here is my entry for this week’s challenge hosted by Frank at Dutch goes the Photo

The prompt this week is: Rose

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Mother’s Day Roses 2006

 

My sweet son has often made it a tradition to give me flowers for my birthday. Or for Mother’s Day. Or as a combo since there are years when they coincide.

When he was a senior in high school, he included a two page letter…describing what each of the 10 roses signified…looking back on how we navigated his childhood together. His love and gratitude expressed.

I’m not the only writer in the family.

He may not have realized it then, at only 18, how much his words touched my heart. I still have those two sheets of paper. Carefully printed words to mother from son. Although there hasn’t been another letter like that one, the roses have continued for many of the last 13 years.

Beautiful bouquets arrived on my doorstep in May.
A mix of favorite colors.
Always deserving of a photo or two…or three.

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Upside-Down

~ oneletterup ~ 12 Comments

This post inspired by V.J.’s Weekly Challenge #33: Upside-Down

 

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upside down: • in or into total
disorder or confusion

 

right side up…
everything
in its place.
comforting clarity…

safety wrapped around
believing.
blind trust.
knowing what’s to come

until sucker punched…
tilting.
lights dimming
without a map…

spinning…
belonging
nowhere.
losing balance…

tumbling alone.
crashing
into
a
blank slate…
the new reality.

upside-down
learning to focus
all over again.

footprints

 

Pass That Note

~ oneletterup ~ 9 Comments

This post inspired by Ragtag Daily Prompt: Note

 

…I saw a note that Gail wrote
& it says she hates me…
I don’t know if you’re mad at Gail but I am…

 

Notes.
When did I first run headlong into notes?
At that awkward will-I-fit-in-say-the-right-thing-avoid-exclusion-at-all-cost stage that characterized my middle school years in the 1960’s.

When successfully passing notes was a prized achievement. A right of passage. If you didn’t get caught.

Notes directed the intense undercurrent of a girl’s ever shifting social hierarchy. They could make or break your day at school.

Scrawled on lined notebook paper. Ripped out of 3-ring binders. Torn into halves. Or quarters. Hastily folded as small as possible. Then..slipped to a friend. Or potential friend. Or some kid sitting at a desk on the way to the note’s intended recipient.

With one eye on the teacher, who with chalk in hand might not turn towards the blackboard as quickly as you think. Who might snatch the wrinkled piece of paper. Which held the potential key to your social future. And then, horror of horrors, read it out loud. So everyone would hear…

Are you mad at me?
Write down yes or no.
Check next to these names…
Do you like them or not?

Or worse, if the note was for you…
From the girlfriends you just had a sleepover with…

We have decided that you are not our type.
Please don’t hang around with us that much. 
You can if you want….Every time
we look at you you are reading. I know you
like to but not every second. Don’t hang around
that much anymore.

 

 

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Elaborate codes were devised

I’ve always wondered…why? Why did girls jostle for position in such cut throat ways? Which is probably why I saved a few notes for 50 years. Thinking I’d figure it out. I have not. I still have no clue.

Except I am grateful there was no Facebook when I was struggling to fit in. No Instagram. No social media.
Notes would have followed me everywhere.
Day and night.
I can’t imagine.

Notes on wrinkled paper were thrown away. Or stuffed in a drawer.
Only public for an agonizing minute if the teacher recited them in front of snickering classmates.

Then the bell would ring.
And out the door I’d go.

swing

 

 

Photo a Week – Contrasting Colors

~ oneletterup ~ 7 Comments

Nancy Merrill is hosting a photo challenge. The theme: A Photo a Week Challenge – Contrasting Colors

Contrasting colors are colors that are on approximately opposite side of the color wheel. Yellow and purple, green and red, blue and orange, and a myriad of variations in-between each of those….This week’s challenge is fairly wide open as far as subject goes, just try to use the color wheel as a guide.

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Orange was my favorite color when I was in my teens and twenties. Orange bedspread. Orange blanket. Orange beanbag chair. Orange stationary. Orange flair pens. Orange Tupperware. And on and on. When we ordered an orange formica countertop for the bathroom sink in our 1980 starter home, nobody thought twice. It was on the list of standard colors. After all, it was 1980. And it matched the orange shower curtain.

Orange is no longer my favorite color, but I love seeing it come back in style…especially when it is worn by my favorite grandson.
He was stylin’ with contrasting colors in the summer of 2017….when at the age of 14 months… he made quite a splash at the beach.
His first time dipping toes in the ocean.
And digging in the sand.
With an orange Tupperware scoop…courtesy of Grandma.

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Hampton Beach 2017

 

Bright Spot

~ oneletterup ~ 10 Comments

img_7886It is cold…
And rainy (yes rainy).
Snow covered ground outside my window.
Clouds. Gray sky.
A black and white day.
Recipe for gloom.

Except for my…
Bright Spot.
The miracle plant. Back from the dead.
The phoenix rising.

My first – and only – Christmas cactus.
I brought her (I’ve decided she is female) home 20 years ago. A Christmas gift from a patient who faithfully arrived weekly for weight checks and diet advice. My former job in my former life.

Ms. Cactus hid her true glory for years. Alternately near death…yellowed leaves withering and dropping off onto the living room floor. To be sucked up by the vacuum cleaner. Or mashed in the carpet by a teenager clomping across the room.

Even though nutrition was the centerpiece of my professional career, I often overlooked…plant food…on a regular basis. Perhaps because I was otherwise occupied with a job, kids, house and such. Feeding the family…remembered that.

For years she just sat there getting dusty – sprouting no buds – no matter what I did. Houseplant books never agreed. The internet couldn’t decide either. I pruned. I overwatered.  A branch broke off. I under watered. Changed locations: bookshelf…garden window…coffee table…side table…. No luck. No color.

Maybe because it’s a cactus…which would imply it is meant to somehow grow and thrive in the desert…explains why it hung on.

And then we moved.

My cactus flowered somewhat at our beach rental 2 years ago, crammed in the corner of the tiny living room.

And then nothing.

Last year, a few blooms randomly appeared.

Now…right in the middle of January…when I needed it most…Ms. Cactus exploded in color. And has rightfully earned a place of honor on the kitchen table (when not posing for pictures).

One happy plant. Looking pretty good for the old age of twenty.

Downsizing to this condo apparently was just what she needed.

And so did I.

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Cee’s Flower of the Day

 

Stillness – Chapter One

~ oneletterup ~ 9 Comments

This post inspired by V.J.’s Weekly Challenge #32: Stillness

 

Sit still, will ya?
Hold still!
Keep still!

The directives we receive along the way.
Quite often as children.
So the exasperated adults can do their thing.

Sit still…and eat.
Stand still…so I can help you get your coat on.
Lie still…and go to sleep.

In school even more so.
Sit still at your desk.
Stand still while you line up.
Keep still while I’m talking.

Vital lessons, obviously…

However…
Being physically still can border on impossible for some children.
My little brother constantly used the dinner table as a drum. While tipping his chair back…way back.
My young son was affectionately compared to a Great Dane by his first grade teacher as his natural inclinations leaned toward constant movement.
“Refrain from excessive talking” was a black mark on my report cards during grammar school…an ongoing challenge to keep my mouth closed.

I wonder…if children were shown ways to be still…
As a source of pleasure. Reward rather than punishment.
On some basic level…
Tempting their budding imaginations. As ready sponges.
Before screens and apps and television crowd in…
Shifting mind and body into overdrive.

Take a slow breath.
Close your eyes.
Take your time.
Imagine….
Pretend you are…
Think about…

From earliest memory.
The welcome calm.
Taking time. Undefined.
Discovering that stillness feels good.
A refuge for the mind…
…more crucial as the years fly by.

Maybe sitting still…
and waiting for recess to discuss the important events of the day…
would get just a bit easier.

 

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Tuesday Photo Challenge – Breeze

~ oneletterup ~ 8 Comments

Here is my entry for this week’s challenge hosted by Frank at Dutch goes the Photo.

The theme this week is: Breeze

Our backyard was a place for running, jumping, playing…and enjoying the fresh air. When the wind picked up, as if often did, it might make playing whiffle ball a bit more challenging. Raking leaves into neat piles took a few more minutes…but it kept the bugs away!

It also picked up your hair and momentarily held it…in all kinds of random positions.

A daddy and his 3 year old son…
Sitting side by side on the back steps.
Turned around briefly.
Facing away from the breeze.
Gentle
But making its presence known.

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