Nanny, 1913 – 2012

Tags

Babies, Circle of Life, Family, grandmothers, Home, Lake Michigan, mothers, Thanksgiving

Losing a grandmother is a slow burning grief, unlike the fiery intensity of losing a mother.   Having lost my mother first, I can attest to this difference.   Of the latter, I recall a frenzied panic and quiet horror.  Months needed to pass before the gaping wound had healed enough for me to reflect upon my mom’s life.   Almost immediately I was able to reflect upon my grandmother’s.  She helped this process considerably by reaching 99 and a half.  News of Nanny’s critical fall came mere moments before news of my daughter’s pregnancy.  In August, I stood on a sand dune Up North, within a mile of Lake Michigan, as my cell phone delivered one call after the other.  I did not yet know Nanny would leave us within the week, but I sensed her passing.  I did not yet know KT’s baby was a little girl, but I sensed the possibility when she cited an April due date within days of Nanny’s 100th birthday.  

A baby is coming…

Aspects of Nanny’s personality will live forever in Memory Lake, which brings a strange sort of comfort.  She was a villain to my mom, a Nanny to me, and a hero to my daughter.  Her villainy passed away with her and my mom, leaving the best of the rest to ‘live on’ in my daughter and me.   Over Thanksgiving, KT said, “I want you to live a very long time, so you can be Nanny, I can be Gramsy, and we can see my daughter’s baby.”   I accepted the challenge.  Then I announced, “But, my name is going to be Mamie.”

National Novel Writing Month; “NaNoWriMo”

Tags

Arts, NaNoWriMo, National Novel Writing Month, Novel, November, Word count, WordPress, Writer Resources

This month is National Novel Writing Month, or “NaNoWriMo,” in which aspiring writers support one another through forums to write a 50,000 word novel in the month of November.  Many folks I know are rising to this challenge, seeking to jumpstart that novel, to coax it into the light of day.  I wish them infinite creativity and inspiration.

600,000 words and counting….

It’s tough being creative on demand and I greatly admire all who are taking this challenge, as well as my journalist friends who produce quality works consistently while meeting deadlines.  About twenty years ago I wrote a 10,000 word paper on pressure washing and pig farming to complete my MBA.  After that stretch of the imagination, my creative writing and professional life parted ways.  Writing became an escape from juggling work and raising kids.  If blogging had existed back then, I would have embraced it.  Instead, I wrote a sci-fi fantasy novel.  After ten years, I had over 600,000 words, a detailed outline, and no clear path to wrapping it up.  I set it aside after attending a camp reunion, which eventually became a multifaceted tale of true events; Memory Lake.  (Please note, early versions had over 180,00 words.  The end product has about 136,000 and 436 pages.) I have now gone back to these 600,000 words to try to make them work.  They stretch before me like a very long wall covered in sloppy plaster.  Inch by inch, I am smoothing the plaster, picking away unwanted clumps, adding new, sanding the seams, and blending a seamless surface.  This will take longer than a month.  But, that’s okay, because the satisfaction from one inch of smooth quality is worth it.

While smoothing, I’m thinking of my NaNoWriMo friends.  They too will face a pile of rough words.  I want to say, don’t lose heart, hang in there, because this is when the real fun begins.  It’s when your characters turn around and start talking to you.  It’s when the real writing begins.

To the Veterans. To SAC. To B52s.

Tags

B52, Censorship, Military Service, Minot AFB, North Dakota, Peace, Strategic Air Command, Veterans Day

“Peace is our Profession”; Strategic Air Command motto*

“Not many people understood why we turned introspective and blissful at the mere mention of camp. Either they believed the lampooned versions in movies or thought of it as a one-week excursion into cheerleading, band, scouting, or sports. Perhaps those bands of brothers who had experienced combat together could understand it best, though the military men in my life resented the comparison. I had suggested it once at an Officer’s Club in Minot, North Dakota, being a newly married transplant aching for my summer friends. I had been informed ours was a country club existence made possible by the service of those brave soldiers. How could I argue this? Ever since, I had taken my memories underground.” Memory Lake, p.356

Yes, camp is not the same as military service.  I wholeheartedly admit this.  I am overflowing with gratitude to be living at this time in history, in this country, where I have become all my heart desires.  I thank the soldiers who have devoted their lives to protecting my freedom, so I can have these wondeful memories.

Thank you to my husband, John, now retired, for his 22 years of service to the taxpayers. He always tried to put them first.

He thinks it’s no big deal, and will probably never see this blog post.  But, he was a Cold War Warrior, featured in this TIME magazine article.  I’m proud of him, though he says he was, “Just doing his job.”   http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,922438,00.html

*(Google censored this photo of the SAC emblem, a B52 model, and military medals, taken from my phone. Gmail would not allow me to download, or copy it, because of its ‘sensitive’ content.  I had to use a different email account.  This is not freedom.)

Camp Sandy Rockaway

Tags

Belle Harbor, destruction, flood, hurricane, New York, Queens, rockaway, rockaways, Sandy, storm surge, Superstorm, superstorm sandy

Sandy’s after effects

“…Old farmhouses entombed in the deep like ghostly sunken ships, their treasured memories lost forever, fish swimming through dilapidated doors and windows as layers of silt gather on a kitchen counter, once tenderly cared for, where a family used to gather.”  Memory Lake, p. 5

I’m five foot five, so I figure the sea in my stepsister’s Rockaway town home had reached my collar-bone before it slipped back into the ocean.  When she, her husband, and 2-year-old evacuated they had not conceived such damage.  Yesterday, despite the aftermath of chaos, flaring tempers, and destruction they rented a truck, found a storage unit, and emptied their rental home.  Damaged furniture from the kitchen and living room now sit on the curb.  They are camping for the next ten days in a hotel.  Then what?  They don’t know.

I’m certain, their faith will pull them through, and their joy, for as my step-sis says, “It’s just stuff.”

Photo provided by Tom Weis:  http://tomweisphoto.com/gallery.html