Monday, April 30, 2012






Once a long time ago two young girls collaborated, playing was not good enough.The most memorable business venture was a restaurant, the very appropriately named 
"SHIRMAR" as these two young girls were named Shirley and Mary. A basement restaurant with folding tables, table cloths. People flocked to dine there, well more truly, sooner or later they were forced to humor them. Sadly the Shirmar was forced to close, due to adolescence and lack of interest.


Several years later, the two young girls went on their separate ways, marriage, kids, failed relationships, loss of loved ones,  loss of each other. Somehow they found each other again, and time, experiences, pain, sorrow, joy and finally some peace did not seem to be an obstacle.  The years apart served only to give them both a deeper understanding and appreciation of each other. 


One thing they had always had in common was their love for art, whether it be words, the brush, a plate of food, they liked to create.  They also shared a love for a woman named Patricia Joyce McCord Esworthy Carter, mom to Mary by relation, to Shirley by heart.  


She encouraged us all, believed in all our dreams, shared our passion and in her eyes we were the most talented of artists. You could worry her but if she was ever disappointed it seemed she always turned it inward, probably too much. 


It seems fitting that the passion she had for painting she shared with Shirley and her love for the written word she shared with Mary.  So some 40+ odd years later, the SHIRMAR long gone, but the collaborators joined again. 


My friend Shirley is a talented painter, capturing scenes which allow you to escape into your dreams of peace, sunlight and oceans.  I write for those I love,  I hope my words allow me to share feelings that I am not able to say, let others find their feelings.  I hope I show the proper respect for Shirley's painting and Mom, for both of us, all of us. I hope I don't fall short.  




Mom
I see an empty chair
And think of you
Sitting somewhere, peaceful view

You never made a fuss
It wasn’t your style
Just a corner of your own, little smile

You would watch
The goings on with care
Center of attention, not there

To be near the ocean
The dream inside
A part of you, ebb and tide

Like many others
Dreams you let go
Put us before you, we know

A passion for the water
A talent with a brush
Life taking care of us, a rush

Did we say thank you
Do you know what you meant
Rescuing us every time, life spent

The empty chair
It saddened me
You never got to relax, the sea

Then I’d recall
Sitting next to you, deck or yard
Look in your eyes, no guard

The blue of your eyes
A reflection of ocean hues
Content you seemed, no dues

I keep an empty chair
It is for always for you
I look at it, see an ocean view

There is another
We take our turn, the second chair
Thoughts, worries, dreams, you there

Two chairs slightly facing
Looking inward and slightly out
That you are in one, no doubt




Wednesday, March 28, 2012

 
Tonight it was Yanni's turn for what's on my mind and in my heart.  We started with "I miss Grandma Carter, why did she die, how old was she, did it hurt and  where is her body?" Now its odd because my mind has been on Mom a lot lately too. Can't put my finger on why, she is always in my thoughts but lately in a different way, a more front of mind way.  I have not verbalized it but Yanni has this very odd way of picking thoughts straight out of my mind.  It can be very unsettling. So we talked about mom quite a bit, quite frankly and I hope with some eventual peace.

But typical for an eight year old we moved quickly to his next topic, why do people smoke if they know its bad for them which of course I jumped on that opportunity and we launched straight into the peer pressure speech and the NEVER, EVER ( and I won't mince words) EVER take drugs, smoke or drink and drive ( and no I don't feel one bit like a hipocrite )

I thought we had moved on but I thought wrong and we got deeply into why we have to die.  I tried honestly to give him both the scientific version and with hope in my heart that he both grasps and believes, the theological version.

Then naturally after all of this we ended with "can I get a dog?"

I think he may have quite accurately measured the stamina I had left after all of this and thought now is my best shot at the dog question, I have completely worn her out. 

Funny though because he does this.  We talk about these topics with some mysterious frequency.  Its as though each time he passes a intellectual milestone, only known to Yanni,  he revisits those things which are abstract and hard for all of us to understand and runs it past this new awareness to see how it feels or fits now.  I may never know what happens to prompt the particular question at that moment but I hope I always respond in a way that will encourage him to always ask questions, to always seek to understand. 

                            
         And as Mom always said to me and now I always say to Yanni
            Goodnight, sleep tight and don't let the bed bugs bite.  
                 



Tuesday, March 27, 2012


I look into the mirror
And I wonder what face
I will find looking back  

Sometimes when I look
I see me, I assume just me
The way I look to everyone

Woman, middle age
Aging better then some
Never as well as I’d like

This morning I looked
Drying my hair and I saw
My mother’s eyes 

At first I just took notice
Of how much I look like Mom
But it brings back the familiar grief

Am I really without her
I do a quick comparison
How I’m similar, yet very different

Not without Mom unless I choose to be
I have her in my mirror
I have her in my heart

Another day I look, so old this morning
When did that happen
Why does age have to change you

What does my husband see
Does he see the years or
The young woman he first loved

I guess love really is blind
He never hesitates to kiss this face
Morning, night, good day, bad   

Another day, another look and I see
A young girl’s eyes 
I see my adolescence 

So scary, no confidence
Painfully shy, but trying to act
Like I have it all together

No I don’t care what others think
Right, just hoping to fit in
Didn't ever want to stand alone, not then

I blink and clear away the girl
See the woman and yes
Happy to be where I am now

Another day, another look
Looks like me, so I smile
Smile at myself, friend

But why are we always
So critical of ourselves
Immediately I start the inventory

Wish my teeth were whiter
Hate the crooked bottom tooth
Jaw line, wish it was tighter

So this is what 50 looks like
You can never quite picture it
When you’re twenty one

I finish the makeup
Comb my hair
Blink and look again

There she is again
All the mes are there
Young, old, my Mom, my kids

My face is a reflection
Of everything I have ever been
And all that I love

My mirror, my time to reflect 
Not afraid to look there today
I will see me.

Friday, March 23, 2012

So the diligence or annoyance with which I am posting to this blog will undoubtedly let up once I return to work so I thought why not one more post.  Just got a back from a nice long walk with Yanni and I have been tossed aside for WII,  he deserves it!

As I sit to write I ask myself why,  what am I hoping for from doing this.  It seems to be therapeutic, doesn't hurt anyone but "really seriously" as Yanni would say,  I'm afraid that deep down inside I hope that I write something so incredibly creative and insightful that I will stake my claim on immortality in some bumper sticker sort of way ( its my Forrest Gump moment). 

Then I thought "really seriously" do I think I'm that unique?  Which led to this entire train of thought on people and the way we spend most of our thinking lives in one of two states: either trying to declare our originality and uniqueness from the roof tops or desperately seeking others who are just like us.  No wonder we're never satisfied....

I believe I am scientifically unique, no one else is me down to the very cell, at least I don't believe I've been cloned, but then I never really understood all that my brother has done in his scientific career, but pretty sure,  I am the only Mary.  So I have physical uniqueness but I've come to realize, mostly through great stand up comedy, that I am probably just like everyone else.

  Do you ever notice that the really great comedians are just saying those random little thoughts that run through your head while your in the bathroom stall between courses at a restaurant or just people watching at the zoo.  You have the thought and immediately you wonder  several things in just a few seconds " am I crazy for thinking that, has anyone else thought this, wow where did that come from or I'm so clever" Then you flip on the TV or go to some comedy club and there stands, typically some, not devastatingly handsome or beautiful person, but just one of us normal people, who magically just plucks that oh so clever thought of yours right out of thin air and turns into a whole routine.  You look around, everyone is laughing and you realize its because they all thought it too.  The fun is in hearing out loud and sharing it with other same minded people.  A celebration of sameness!

If we could embrace the sameness maybe we could all get along ( sorry for the John Lennon, George Harrison moment but in keeping with the theme,  I am certain someone else was thinking it too)

And yes I can move comfortably between Clueless,  Funny Girl, Training Day and Grown Ups and enjoy all of them.  Tap my toes to Katy Perry and Katrina and the Waves and cry when Babs sings People.... Hollywood and pop music saw me coming a mile away! 

 But I am OK, so OK with being just like everyone else.  I mean I have had some incredibly happy moments in my life, I like knowing that others have felt that good too.
 
 So my immortality may need to still appropriately and quite beautifully reside with my children as they are and will always be my greatest works of art.

For whatever its worth, that is what is on my mind and in my heart today. MAT



Star filled nights

I step outside
Gazing ahead hoping to see nothing
No way to distinguish shapes
Letting the night surround me
I anticipate the seclusion 
The darkness will create

I want solitude
Needing to cast off the worries
Ever present in the light of day
Blocking out the anxiety
I await the tranquility
Let the blackness come

I glance upward 
Glimpsing a shimmer 
Uncertain what compels me
Looking up again 
I feel not isolation
The stars offer something

I expect abandonment
Thinking it would be a relief 
Drawn to the radiance
Feeling oddly comforted
I acknowledge a presence
It holds aloneness at bay

I gain awareness
Becoming conscious of my ease 
Something reaches me
Lifting my cares and concerns
I sense a presence 
Choosing abandonment no more   

I absorb willingly
Wondering how this can be 
Awe, delight and hope  
Illuminating my heart 
I feel no fear
Only something oddly familiar

I realize something
Comprehending that each star 
Contains the light of a soul
An earthly love
I thought I’d lost forever
Wrapping me in peace 

I accept my gift
Thanking the God 
Who gives me the night   
So I can witness this miracle
I thought I needed solitude but
Found peace in the din of the soul filled stars