Successions of Forgiveness

It seems as of late that the posts have slowed, the year has taken a toll, and life has really thrown my family and my heart a few curve balls. As I reflect on this - often really- I think of the many adventures this year has brought. In the course of the past four months my youngest son graduated high school, my oldest son got married and will leave for the US Navy in a matter of days, my oldest daughter was/is faced with some scary health news while she continues to plan her wedding, and my youngest daughter moved in with her father (against my will and heart). To top it off, I turned forty in this time and was faced with the reality that life- the life I have known for over 22 years (yes, since I was 18 years old) was about to change drastically.

Here I sit- like I have many times in the past few months and days, and I ponder the reality of all changes. I wonder what lessons I have learned and taught, what differences I have made or not, and mostly- what's next. While I know that it is many years until the illusive retirement from teaching, I cannot help but think about the possibilities. Each night, I return to this big empty house, with these big empty bedrooms, and my big empty table that used to hold five hungry teens and their plethora of friends- and I am faced again with this reality. It's all different now.

SO- what is next? Do I continue teaching another twenty years and retire quietly? Do I chase a dream or open a coffee shop in a quiet village in Costa Rica? What is it? The clock ticks, the hands turn, and here I sit- immobile to the reality before me. How can I learn to cook for two or worse yet one? How can  do laundry only once a week? How can I look back and know- know what? Did they learn? Did they grow? Do they need me? Would they tell me if they did? What is this new role, and how can I find it? I don't know. Is it merely empty nest syndrome, or is it a longing to be what responsibility has for so long kept from me? I wonder- am I brave enough or crazy enough to embark on a new adventure? Or- will I sit and miss them all so much that I wallow in self-pity and resentment that Time stole my children, my role, everything I lived for to this point? Maybe I can learn to forgive Time. Maybe I will forgive myself for not seeing this sooner. Maybe time will forgive me for not recognizing he was approaching. I suppose that's what I am left with now- time- forgiveness-forgiveness- time... Maybe.

Still More Successions

Have you ever stopped to think about the people who come in and out of your life? There are those who for reasons sometimes unexplained, we have a connection with for a time to fit the purpose for that moment, and then those people are gone only to be remembered years later with a smile and kind word or thought. Then, there are those with whom we seem to be thrown into interlocking soul bonds. Those are the people who even after years of separation, the conversation and connectedness picks up exactly where it left off - no time seems to have elapsed, and no walls seems to have been constructed. Each person adding a piece of the human you become in the time specified for the addition.

It seems that I reflect on these groups of people often lately.I have categorized them into groups of men; fathers, sons and brothers, and husbands/lovers... oops was husbands plural? Never-the-less, I will explain - or at least attempt an explanation. Sons and brothers are those who know you  enough to do some damage if they ever let the skeletons out of the closet, but because they love and want to protect their sisters/mothers they observe and only use the skeletons to tease and taunt - wait is it protection? Or, is it a bribe for later in life? Hmmmm interesting thought. Interestingly enough these guys are also observers- they watch and tactfully intimidate those who could never be good enough for their sisters/mothers, and - if all goes as planned- they observe the poor fellows walking away. If not as planned, the watch them walk right into the lives of their sisters and mothers and these guys soon become husbands or lovers. The brothers and sons have fought a losing battle.

Husbands/lovers/ significant others- call them what you may, they are an interesting group. In some regard, they are like the sons and brothers, because they too are skilled in bribery. These men often find a means to coax what they want from their women even if all they want is a little time for pleasant conversation. Sadly, they lack the insight that sons and brothers have and must work harder than any group to get to the heart of a woman and find the mechanism that pushes and presses the woman to give back to these men. However, what they lack in insight and skeletal luggage, they make up for in product yield if they make the initial investment of time and true effort. Once they prove they can grow this unyielding product, they must nurture and cultivate it in order to continue benefiting from the yield.

Fathers-- of fathers- there is no group like that of fathers. They are the of all other men. As young girls we look at our daddies and say, "Daddy, I want to marry you when I grow up." How sad it is that we don't listen to our inner little girl and find a mate who loves, honors, and protects us like our daddy. His eyes see past us and into the little girl he helped create, the young women he molded, and the adults we grew into. He hands guided- though sometimes no so gently- as we took those first steps and then as we stepped into the world. His words reprimanded but also offered wisdom we sometimes didn't recognize until years past the time of disbursement.  Most significantly- his arms... dad's arms provide a firm tug to steer us or a strong grasp to hold us. They offer protection and shelter. Again though, sometimes we act like silly females and don't realize all those arms offer.

If the brothers and sons are merely slightly younger and lesser experienced mirror images of fathers, why must the husbands/lovers be so far removed at times. Are they not also either brothers, sons, or fathers themselves? Of course, if we would cherish that  protection and that purity in love from that original Knight in shining armor of our lives-  if we would hold our fathers as a measuring stick that all other men must be compared, our hearts and minds would be more content and more fulfilled. Don't underestimate the power of the father. These men can set the precedents for almost all other relational skills a woman learns in life. Glean the knowledge and relish that love and the memories other men must slave to try and duplicate the heart of the girl who feels secure in her love.

Just Successions...

It has been many months since I visited this blog to add my thoughts and Pearl's adventures. Successions of Somethings is being printed and will be available soon. I must admit, the wait is excruciating, but I am sure that "this too shall pass," and I will be stronger for the waiting. Like being patient with the printing and release of Successions, the latest new adventures have been overshadowed by life's many twists. Jason and Elli are still planning their nuptials, but my mind needed clearing of anything "nuptialistic" for a bit, so we will catch up with the marital adventure later this summer.  For now, I will focus on simple blogging in it's truest form. No book, no chapter, no adventure of Pearl and her excursions into the past hurt while healing int he present will be posted for a few weeks. Instead, you will get the meandering thoughts of Mary's mind... hmmm scared yet?

It's difficult sometimes to figure out what needs to be blogged as fact or fiction, but in the end the past is the past, and somebody's fact is another body's fiction - isn't it? The truth is, we fight every day to make the "what if's" a reality - the fiction turns to fact, because the current present is not what we planned for our future. Sadly, yesterday only has a fifty-fifty chance of surviving as fact as well. Life- is it stranger than fiction? Or is it a step into fiction-and an avoidance of reality?

I chose this week to live in my fiction- or to play "what if" . Imagine a whole week of "what-if". I played in a creek with my youngest daughter, watched my youngest son hit a home run, hugged my oldest daughter before she walked down the aisle, and toasted my eldest son saying he was a super lucky man to have a bride as wonderful as his. I sat under a huge ancient oak with a friend while sipping tea and talking, and reminisced about my childhood with a fellow California native.  I planned family vacations, and birthday presents for the kids. I planned get-a-ways and escapades in Italy. I rehearsed for an imaginary vocal exhibition, and I fell asleep on a boat on the river. I spent a fall in Michigan at the Great Pumpkin Festival with my mother, and I ate date nut bread with my dad. I wore wooden shoes and shared oliebolens with my brothers, and I slathered on my big sister's lipstick. What a week- a wonderfully interesting week of laughter and love. Does it have to end? Was it all fiction?

Funny how those moments from the memory become somewhat distorted and make their way into our minds as perfect factual bliss.  If my smile has a chance to remain, I say let this fiction live. True successes are found when one accepts the reality of fiction and smiles through it while thanking God we have the escape.

Successions of Nuptials ~ Week Two

“A wise daughter [son] maketh a glad mother [father]…” Proverbs 10:1

The Week began with an odd but warm phone call from Jason’s grandparents. I knew immediately that the voice on the other end of the phone had to be a relative of this young man, because of the frank tenderness and courteous demeanor emanating from the phone; “Ms. Pearl Mackinac?”

“Yes, this is she. May I help you?”

“This is Wayne Steptreader, Jason’s grandpa.”

“Why hello. It’s nice to talk to you.”

“Yes, yes. Well, I am calling to tell you what an absolutely wonderful daughter you have and how very happy we are to have shared the past few days with her. We are very excited to get to invite her into our family.”

“Why thank you sir. That is kind. I know she is a blessing. Your grandson has also been a blessing. I know they will both be so happy together.”

The conversation continued a few more moments with Mrs. Steptreader also picking up a line and joining in the praises of their grandson and my daughter. It was a heartwarming conversation that added to the confirmation that these two kids were well-suited and richly blessed. After hanging up the phone, I texted Elli to tell her how very sweet her future grand-parents-in-law seem. She laughed and again repeated, “Mom I just can’t wait to unbox that dress and see what it looks like on me.”

There were those words again. “I can’t wait.” So strange really to think that in just a few days her anticipation would be quenched, and in a bit more than a year the real wait would be over. She would be Mrs. Jason Steptreader.

Saturday morning arrived like any other day. The bitter cold wind of the winter blew fiercely, while I rushed around the house tidying up before Elli’s arrival. When Elli pulled into the driveway, I knew her order of business would be hugs, coffee, then the dress. Sure enough, an hour passed, the coffee and hugs were devoured, and we were off to the bedroom with a box cutter and a camera. The giggles from my girls were funny and uplifting. Elli and Arynn looked at the puffy white satin and the archaic style of the 1980s while they asked how their mother could have worn that “thing”. She slipped the dress over her head and noted the differences in what she expected and what she saw. My breath completely gone and my mind slipped into reverie: Not so much of the dress itself, but of that first time I slipped the gown over my head and looked up into the long mirror in the bridal shop.

Twenty three years earlier, I stood in front of a room full of mirrors. My bony frame encased by this mountain of satin and lace. I stood- stupefied: No words, just a blank, pale stare. A few moments of staring and listening to the voices of my mother and Gwenn (my sister-in-law) and the others in the fitting room (although who the others were escapes me), I suddenly felt weak. Another few moments and I was no longer standing in front of the mirrors. Instead, I was seated on the floor in this room with a bag of M n M’s in my hand and Gwenn speaking to me in what seemed to be a strange language. She asked me over and over again if I knew where I was and how many fingers she was holding up in front of my face. All I remembered saying was, “Too many and too close.” She laughed and backed away then returned her hand to my head with a cold cloth.

The seamstress jabbered about how so many young girls felt weak and dizzy the first time they put their dresses on. It was perfectly normal for this to happen. I wanted to laugh. At no time in my life had events been “perfectly normal”. Why would I assume they would begin being normal now? That day, I looked into a mirror and stared at me. I realized that not only was I scared of being married, but I was petrified that when he got to know the real me- the me I tried so hard to hide- the little girl under the corner built-ins- he would leave, and I would again be alone. There I was looking at this empty girl in the white dress trying to fill a void and not knowing how to do that.

“Maybe we can find a way to change the bodice to where it doesn’t hit right on my hips. Or wait, I know- we could add a different fabric texture to make the dress modern and yet still keep its classic elegance. What do you think mom?” Elli asked.

“Huh- oh- yes. Elli that sounds like it will be perfect for you. I called a seamstress yesterday who wants to meet with you next month. She said to make all the notes and find a few pictures detailing what exactly you want her to do to the dress, and she will be glad to make the changes for you.” My answer was quick, but as I watched her peer at herself in the mirror with her younger sister fussing over the funny sleeves and the hilarious veil, I realized this young woman before me was the model bride. She looked into the mirror and saw her future self- her joint self with this young man who loved her with a depth I had never experienced, because I had never knew that depth of self and never let it be known to others.

Elli smiled in the reflection and asked, “Mom, what are you thinking?”

“Oh Elli, I am just thinking that every day you show me what waiting for peace looks like. You are so wonderful, and you two just make me smile.”

We took some pictures, put the dress on a hanger, and retired to the great room to watch television. She kept that grin on her face for hours, and so did I.

Successions of Nuptials ~ Week One

As many of you know, the first book is being published as I write. I will no longer be posting chapters of Successions of Somethings on the blogspot. However, I will occasionally give updates for the release of the book, so those who have been reading can find out what happened to Sonny, what secrets Pearl is still holding, and what becomes of Gwenn and Maddie. Look for it to make its début around the first of February at authorhouse.com and several other bookselling websites. In addition, I am going to be writing weekly posts about my new Succession. Although this new blog was not originally slated as one of the Succession books, it seems appropriate to share the progression of this new saga as it mirrors a new chapter in my life- one of the successions in motherhood and more importantly- an exciting time in my oldest daughter’s life.

So, here it goes- welcome to the next Succession book. It will be very different than the first, but still hopefully hold suspense. Let’s follow Pearl as she prepares to let go of her daughter. What lessons must she learn?



Successions of Nuptials


Week One

"My son, hear the instruction of thy father, and forsake not the law of thy mother: For they shall be an ornament of grace unto thy head, and chains about thy neck."

Proverbs 1:8-9

Today marks one week since my daughter’s boyfriend (Jason) texted to say he was engaged, he “finally talked her into marrying him”. Funny that his joke sent me into a reality check that emphasized the many emotions I didn’t really expect to deal with so very early in this process. Stepping back to Thanksgiving weekend and Jason’s request for my daughter’s hand, I snapped into this ageless whirlwind of letting go and holding on. Did I teach her well? Is she really ready for this next step? Did I teach her anything? Will she repeat my mistakes (God- please don’t let her repeat my mistakes)? Most of all; does he really love her enough to make it forever? A month later, an informing text, and a reassurance, wow- this is real, and they really are excited about their new adventure.

Last night, Arynn (my youngest daughter) and I looked at the potential wedding site, caterers, bakeries, and florists online. We clicked through bridal party gown pages on the web, and we giggled about pranks to pull at the rehearsal. We called Elli with questions, and received her calm, collected, but thoroughly excited replies. Then, “Mom, I am coming home next weekend to unbox the dress and try it on. I can’t wait.” She can’t wait- she can’t wait- wait--- where has the time gone? We all know it was time for them to make this next step. We have teased for months. They have been together for two years. She has planned her wedding since she was a girl. Wait- she is still a girl. She’s my little girl- woman- girl. Wait. She can’t wait. My little girl forever, his future wife and love of his life (better be anyhow- insert smile); wow what a journey we have begun. Will I lose it? Will I hold it together? Will she want my help, or will I be in the way? Will we be Bridezilla candidates, or will we savor this adventure as a mother/daughter relationship growing into maturity and experiencing the many joys the next 17 plus months can bring? I choose the latter—I sure hope she does too.

It’s odd that I can’t remember what it was like to plan my wedding to her father in detail. I remember days and some moments, but the process seems to escape my memory. It was somewhat an escape from Sonny, and after my divorce, there were so many memories I skewed to make the failed relationship seem less unfortunate. But, sadly, I don’t remember my mom and I relishing the memory and excitement of planning my wedding. I have made it a priority to remember special moments with my own children and try to make the relationships stronger than my familial relationships were. Sometimes, I think my kids are so close and that we are open with one another, at least a little open anyhow. I have tried to talk to them each step of the way about good and bad and tough decisions, but now- this change is bigger than life itself. She will begin her own family in just 17 months.

I need to make this a good memory. I don’t want her to forget like I have forgotten. I don’t want her to remember what I remember. She can’t wait- wait.

Successions of Somethings ~ Chapter Sixteen

Behold, he travaileth with iniquity, and hath conceived mischief, and brought forth falsehood.

Psalm 7:14

Standing in front of the sink trying to refrain from crying, Pearl’s thoughts sank to a day only two months earlier. A group of students from the school where Pearl’s children attended and where Pearl taught were performing at a state convention for safe and drug free youth. Pearl took pride in the work of her students and children and was especially anxious about this year’s performance because two of her own kids were participating. They worked hard all year and the time had come to put on a great show for the community. Of course, her parents would not miss this show either as they were the model grandparents. They arrived with Maddie who had come to watch her younger cousins dance, sing, and play on stage.

The show began and Pearl looked over at Maddie and smiled. Maddie turned and said, “I sure wish my parents would have done stuff like this with me when I was in school.”

“Well, now you can enjoy it with the other kids,” Pearl answered; trying not to give in to what she really wanted to say about Maddie’s parents. She wanted to say, “Well, if they could for one minute pull their heads out of that insanity of theirs…” but she refrained and encouraged Maddie to have a good time. Maddie sat back and watched and enjoyed the show, but Pearl noticed something odd about her behavior. She nudged her mom and asked if Maddie was all right.

“Her father has been sending really strange text messages to her all day. Some of them have been downright hateful and others just plain crazy. She is pretty upset, and your father is beside himself.”

After the show, the students begged to go out and eat, and invited Pearl’s parents and Maddie to join them. Pearl of course conceded, and they all piled into the bus and headed for Applebee’s. Maddie and her grandparents followed behind the bus. When they arrived at the restaurant, the students, Maddie, Pearl, and her parents walked in and requested seating for twelve. The hostess put a few small tables together to accommodate the request and seated the large party.

As the noise level grew, Maddie’s face turned from complete enjoyment to almost a panic stricken terror. She reached down and looked at the screen of her cell phone and rolled her eyes. She shut the phone and tried to re-enter the conversation and the fun, but again, her phone notified her of another incoming message. She reached down again, this time nudging her grandmother and saying, “I can’t believe that jerk.”

Her grandmother took the phone and put her glasses on in order to read the messages. She looked at the phone, and her face too changed. She had a look of disdain as she handed the phone to her husband with an outstretched arm and said, “Here: Read this.”

He took the phone from her while Pearl entertained stories at the other end of the table in order to keep the students from noticing what was happening. A moment later, Peal’s father closed the phone and stood with a tear in his eye; then walked outside and stood in the parking lot. “Where’d your dad go Ms. Mackinac?” a student asked quickly.

“Oh, he gets hot really easily, and he thought it was a bit stuffy in here. He’ll be back in a minute. Don’t worry.”

Their waitress came to take their orders. They quickly ordered and gave the waitress a hard time. Then one of the students started to tell about an adventure she had on her family’s vacation last summer. While all of the students were enthralled with the story, Pearl’s curiosity exploded. What on earth had her brother sent that sent her father out of the restaurant with tears? Was her father angry or hurt? Pearl tapped Maddie under the table and asked to see the message. Maddie slowly handed the phone to Pearl and asked, “Are you sure you want to see this? It’s bad Pearl, really.”

Pearl took the phone and held it slightly under the table then read, “Your Aunt Pearl is keeping secrets from you. You all think she is so good and wonderful, but she’s a liar and a whore, and you are just like her.” Pearl closed the phone and dropped her head. She put her hand over her heart and took a deep breath, then looked at Maddie and said, “He will be sorry for that some day, but until then what on earth can we do?” Just then Pearl’s father walked back into the restaurant, and Pearl stood to excuse herself to the restroom. As she passed her father’s chair, she patted him on the back and said, “Let it go Dad. I love you, and he is a sick sick man.”

His big green eyes fell and he stared into his tea glass shaking his head. Pearl’s oldest son had been watching what was going on between Pearl and her family members, and he suddenly burst out with “Okay, what’s the difference between a typewriter and a penguin? Anyone, anyone…” The students all looked puzzled and Maddie and Pearl and Pearl’s parents all started laughing. The students all tried to guess while Drew kept them entertained. His brother picked up on it right away and joined him in the nonsense joke. Every time someone made a connection, Drew and Tom made some strange look and said, “No, now it’s not that difficult, just think.”

Pearl squeezed Drew’s hand under the table as if to say thank you. Then looked at Tom and winked. Their food arrived and they all ate quickly then loaded the bus, the car, and left. As the bus bumped and chugged to the school, Pearl sat in wonder and hurt. How could he say that? Poor mom and dad. All they ever did was love their kids, and all Sonny has ever done is violate and defile what love is. God, please be with my father right now. Please put your arms around him and tell him that I love him and reassure that those words are horrid lies and from a sick minded man. Please help the readers or hearers of Sonny’s illness to recognize that those words and thoughts are from an evil like no other. It wasn’t long before the bus pulled into the school parking lot, and Pearl and all of the students exited the bus and parted ways.

Still standing at Gwenn’s kitchen sink, she cried softly and remembered what she thought was the catalyst of the events that brought her to this house the previous night. She knew it was time to let the truth be known. She knew it was going to hurt. But more than anything, she knew she did the right thing. She took a deep breath and heard a voice from the other room. Pearl, Gwenn, Maddie where are you? We’re here. Hello…” Pearl’s mother entered the kitchen, quickly approached her, and put her arms around her. Her father walked up and joined the circle.

They embraced for a few moments before Pearl stepped back and said, “Maddie and Joy are in the back yard. Maddie has been waiting for you guys. You had better go see her.” They nodded and walked to the door. As they exited, Pearl’s father turned and said, “You okay?”

“I’m okay dad. I guess. It’s just all so surreal really. Go on though. Maddie needs her Papa.” She half smiled then added, “I love you dad.”

“He put his head down and nodded as if to agree, “I love you too.”

As Pearl’s parents passed through the doorway and into the back yard, the telephone rang.

Successions of Somethings ~ Chapter Fifteen

Shall not God search this out? For He knoweth the secrets of the heart.

Psalms 44:21

“Okay, so now we are alone and I have been trying to get the nerve to talk to you all day. For some reason, it seems easier to talk when Pearl is here. Maybe it’s because I know that we all understand how weird our lives have been, and Pearl seems to always have a grip on the reality of the dysfunction and pushes through. We all know the embarrassment and the hurt, the guilt and the shame. We are like kindred spirits in a way keeping the secrets and holding each other through the hurt. But, what I want to say is that, no matter what you are feeling right now; it’s okay. If you are sad, or mad at me, or whatever; it’s time we start living and being close like we were so many years ago; before everything got so crazy.

We are might be all we have now, and we may have to relearn us, and we can. Maddie, things have been crazy most of your life, and I owe you an apology. Years ago, when your father and I split up, you and I were happy. I gave that up and got back together with him and it all started again. I am sorry, but I honestly thought that it was the right thing to do. I thought marriage was marriage until death- at all cost. I know this is odd coming from me today, but I really don’t know what Pearl is going to say in there, and I want you to know that no matter what, I am sorry this happened. I am sorry that once again you have to deal with hurt and despair. But, more importantly, I am sorry you missed a normal life.

Before your dad and I got married, your aunt Pearl and I were friends and roommates. We would lie in bed some nights and talk across the room and laugh. It was like having my very own little sister. The day before the wedding she sat down on my bed and started crying. I was so touched, because I thought she was sad that I was going. I put my arms around her and said, “You are going to officially be my little sister. How cool is that?” She sobbed at that point and pulled away only holding my hands.

Then she absolutely dumbfounded me with what she said next. “Gwenn, you don’t know him. He is different after marriage, when he has you. Please don’t do it. I can’t explain how very different he is, but it will come out of nowhere for no reason, and you will never be the same. Please Gwenn, don’t do it.”

“Maddie, I looked straight at her and pulled my hands away. I didn’t know what to say and knew that she was so sincere. She urged me not to say anything to Sonny about what she had said. I agreed, but truly thought she was just a scared girl whose life was about to change a little, so I thought very little about it. Well, I thought little about it until my wedding night. See, we went to a local hotel, because your dad was playing in a church league basketball tournament the next day, and he didn’t want to leave for our honeymoon until after the tournament. I thought that was fine, but that night- he changed, and I saw why your aunt was so very scared for me. He got mad at nothing really. I didn’t pack my bag the way he thought I should, and he pinched my arm. Then I didn’t hurry to get ready that night… I can’t really remember all that made him so angry that night, but I do know that I hurt so badly the next day.

When your dad and I got to the gym, your aunt was there with the rest of the family. She looked at me, and when my eyes met her eyes, I looked away. She knew, and I knew she knew. She later sat next to me and took my hand. We never spoke about it, but I swear it was almost as if she saw everything he did. It was like she had a window into my mind and heart, because every time I wanted to cry, she squeezed my hand or touched my arm and looked at me.

Maddie, I have watched Pearl do this with you. I’ve seen the way she reads what’s going on, and I have been ashamed so many times that someone else knows about our secret shame. But, I also know that there is something secret about her, something she has wanted so many times to share with us and help us, but at the same time I think she wants to help herself. She knows and feels too much to not have secrets too. I just need you to know, that we are not the only ones who have been hurt all of these years. I don’t know what is going to happen in there in a little while, but Maddie, I am sorry for not being who I should have been to you all these years. I hope someday you can forgive me.”

Maddie looked at her mother, and tears fell softly as she nodded her head and looked past her into the kitchen window. There standing with her back to them was Pearl. She looked to be slumped over and crying.