Reading, writing...that's what I do.

When Only One Thing Matters

We live in a world of change, of pressure and persuasion. From newspapers and television, we are not so quietly told WHAT TO BE, WHERE TO EAT, HOW TO LIVE. And if we are honest, we often are affected by this noise and clammer.

Oh, we think we have a handle on it, but then suddenly realize that the coat we had to have, the book everyone told us to read, the film so praised and lauded…just truly was not for us. And I am not afraid to say this: aging puts it all in perspective.

We see more and more the worth in small things. The letter or phone call from a friend. The compliment we were not expecting. The kindness of someone in the grocery store…those little things. Maybe it is because we realize the importance of slowing the pace, of looking into the eyes of the person talking to us, of honoring their humanity, who they truly are. The pace of life can be devastating…so that we wake up one day and forget to say thank you to those close to us; to remember a birthday or to call a friend who has lost their spouse. LIFE IS MOVING VERY QUICKLY and we need to stop and smell those roses, make that phone call, write that poem.

I am blessed to meet with two other writers about once a month. We read each others work and provide feedback. But we also understand when we haven’t fulfilled a certain goal…rewriting a scene, softening a character’s words in a given moment, or changing the dialogue that was confusing or in the wrong place. We understand because LIFE gets in the way. We have families, we have responsibilities. 

BEING THERE…BEING NEEDED

My message? In life and in your daily experience, things change. Minor and major changes. 

And as humans we are expected to be right there….accept, understand, and deal with the change. We are to adapt to the needs of others, keep it going, and always, if possible, SMILE. 

But that is not possible. Our wires can get crossed. Were we listening or was the message never delivered. And there is only ONE WAY to live with this, deal with this as our world gets more and complicated and things move faster and faster.

TAKE A DEEP BREETH.

SPEND TIME MAKING PLANS THAT WILL WORK FOR EVERYONE. 

COMMUNICATE. Thus the photo I chose today… me and my grandson. He may still be adding words to his vocabulary, but possibly better than anyone, he knows how to show me love and appreciation. He knows what he needs and how to say THANK YOU when I provide such a gift.

MAYBE we should all slow down for an hour or two, tell those near us how much we love them. Share hugs and feelings. LIFE IS SHORT. And when my grandson wakes from his nap, I won’t be there, but his mother, his father will be… the people who love and care for him. And yet, when he sees me again, he will smile and go to me. He will let me play with him, hug him. That is how love works. We show up. We give….and in return, we are blessed. THANKS FOR READING 

I Can Do The Tricky Stuff

We all plan our lives to some degree. Plan our children’s lives. We are not gifted with seeing into the future, but as we age we often THINK we know best. And thankfully, we are often right. 

And yet there are also surprises. One of my favorites involves my own dear mother, Jinni, a widow with we three children, who often would show us the thumb on her left hand, indicating that it was not easy to move her dictates to us, not easy for us to have our way….but sometimes. Because….

My younger brother Bill wanted to get into the music business right after college, Jinni finally agreeing to part of his goal….flying to LA. Because yes, her brother Chuck and her sister-in-law Imelda lived there. So Bill could try to get into the music business, and then later simply fly back home.

But later never happened. Imelda had a neighbor, right across the street on Clump Avenue (the street name always drove her crazy) who worked in the LA music business. A meeting was set up, Bill got an entry level position, and then because he was Bill who knew what he wanted, and because he worked like crazy in that first position, and then the second etc, he soon could claim and exceed every aspect of his dream. AND THE REST IS HISTORY, Bill’s history.

I think all of us, if we tried, could look back on our lives and find that opening, that mentor, even the words of ONE UNDERSTANDING PERSON who helped our goals, put air in the balloon of our dreams.

But we also know that being a parent about to help a child make that major choice, can be like standing by  Captain Hook’s plank…can our son or daughter walk the plank of his or her choice safely? Or is he or she going to fall off…and to complete the analogy, where is Tinker Bell? Or who is Tinker Bell?

BUT YES, WE JUST KEEP LISTENING ….to our own hearts and always to our children…their ideas, goals and longings. And we will not regret that.

And despite Bill’s connected neighbor, I am certain my brother would have become a success in the music business. And despite my having a toddler and having left a solid teaching career, I was determined to go back to school and become a Labor and Delivery RN. First there was the fact that I had never studied medicine. Then there was the fact that I was seeking a particular, coveted position as an older, brand-new RN: You will never get that position, so many told me. BUT I DID. And yes, I had a long drive into the city, but I loved Mercy Hospital, and I loved all the people there and my work. 

SO FINAL THOUGHT….Watch what you say or dream or create in front of your own children.

TRUE STORY: my daughter Christie and I are in her car, she driving us to dance class for her firstborn Adeline, then three going on four, riding in the backseat, amusing herself, while Christie lists for me all the options for this amazing child, referring to the pressure that even young children can experience as the world opens up for them: pre-school, gym, this dance class…and my daughter suddenly wonders aloud if it is all just too much, and how will it go….

while in the back seat, safe in her carseat where she has been looking out the window, Adeline suddenly reveals the direction SHE is heading, saying, I CAN DO THE TRICKY STUFF. 

Of course! And I, her grandmother, will never forget this…Adeline now in the depth of college study, preparing for a career in research and aspects of medicine. OF COURSE SHE IS!!   She can do the tricky stuff, and so can so many of those we love and encourage.

So please remember to take a deep breath, and then slowly let it out….when YOUR CHILD makes that amazing announcement. Because he or she certainly will…and thanks for reading. 

10055 South Wood Street, The Story of a Family

In the late sixties, I became a latchkey child who didn’t mind walking two plus miles from Longwood High School to my home in Beverly Hills, a Chicago neighborhood far south of the city. Through the soft breezes of spring and the freezing cold winds of winter, I walked the same cracked sidewalks and the same streets, avoiding the whoosh of traffic, and depending on the time of day, waiting to hear the faraway horns of the Rock Island Trains bringing commuters to and from the city.  

Beverly, a place of parks and treed streets, older homes and churches, my mile plus walk taking me by shops, two-flats, train-tracks, buses—and depending on my mood when I left school late because of chorus or working on our newspaper, I’d walk south to 99^th street, turning right and heading west to Wood…or I’d walk west on 95^th to Wood, turning left through familiar neighborhoods…because these pathways, despite cold winds or hot sun, were my way home.

Later, when struggling to find the key to our grey frame house, I rarely realized my good fortune…this place of green lawns, neatly kept homes, so different from the descriptions of city life I’d read about in books, seen in photos in Life Magazine. Beverly, like a small town, easy to navigate–city blocks with north-south streets bearing elegant names, east-west streets using numbers to indicate their distance from Chicago’s city center. Beverly, with nature’s gifts lining our streets…stately elms shaped like wine glasses reaching out to maples, oaks…all forming arches of spinning leaves.

And so begins my book…thanks for reading…soon to be available on Amazon. 

PS. Many of you who still follow me and read my work, know that after living in Park Forest, Homewood, Des Moines, Iowa, and West Lake Village California….my husband and I are now back in Chicago, in Beverly.

But I wrote this book years ago, eager to preserve my memories of growing up in an amazing place, being raised by my giving and wonderful mother after my father died in 1950 of a major heart attack. Medicine could not save him at that time. And as I grew, married my forever love, John Havey, taught high school English at Bloom Township High School, later to be blessed with three amazing children, I then went back to school to become an RN, work in Labor and Delivery at Mercy Hospital in downtown Chicago.

All of this before moving to Des Moines, Iowa, after John got a phone call…a growing company needed his skills. And so we moved, I working for Meredith Books and then the Des Moines Health Care Center during H1N1. But the best part, I had time to write. This book is my second Amazon Publication. Last year I gave you: AFTER PAPER LEFT. So as always, I thank you for reading, for being here, Beth