TIME MARCHES ON

Today is a special day. It is my youngest child's 50th birthday. Since the following post was written 11 years ago, he's changed a bit. No longer scaring me to death on dirt bikes or scuba diving or bungee jumping, and instead of vacations spent in Big Bend to ride dirt bikes with his friends, he now goes there to golf with his friends. Today he is relaxing in the mountains of Ruidoso, New Mexico with his family - wife Amy, son Travis, and daughter Kelly. I think he plans to play a little golf while there as well.

Matthew is not only a great son, but also a wonderful family man. He allowed me to post the following on my class blog way back when - and he's quite the story teller. Even as a little boy he could spin a yarn.

FRIDAY, JULY 25, 2008

"I don't know why I'm not gray..."

This guy has been my son for 39 years now. I don't know why I am still surprised when he does things that scare me half to death. Bungee jumping, dirt bike riding (photo at left), scuba diving, jet skis... He's always involved in something that should turn my hair gray! He has two children now, and I was beginning to think I could relax. His call from Arizona last week telling me the following "little tale" assures me my days of worrying for his safety are not over.

When he told me about his adventure, I was getting confused. I said, "Why don't you write about it, Matthew?" He hesitated, then told me he already had. Seems he subscribes to a blog for off-road riders, either on motorcycles or four-wheel drive vehicles. He had asked them about good roads to go off road on while he was on a business trip to Prescott, as he had some time to kill and decided to explore the mountains around Jerome. For some reason, he didn't rent a four-wheel drive Jeep as he planned. But the weather was beautiful when he started out, as you can see in the first photo. He made me promise not to leave a comment on the off-road blog (like, Oh, my gosh Matthew, you could have been killed!). I promised.

I got his permission to put this on our blog. And I was the mother who was scared when he was scuba diving with sharks and giant stingrays all over the Caribbean! He sent beautiful underwater pictures from those expeditions.

       

"I found FR413. Unfortunately, two-wheel drive Chevy Trailblazers, serious thunderstorms,  

 6300' elevations, rock slides, and mud do not mix.

When I got almost to the top, I was surrounded by serious storms, 40 mph winds, rain, and more rain. I was screwed. The road had started to wash out and I was losing traction. A three foot boulder came tumbling down, bouncing like a super ball about five yards in front of me as I approached the top of the pass. My rental two-wheel drive was pelted with pea- and golf-ball size rocks.

I will never forget that image of the boulder bouncing down the hill, thinking of the damage that it could have done to me and the rental.

I gassed it as there was no place to turn around and I could see blue skies in the distance. Then I saw this:

No place to turn around. After I backed out of the slot, there was a wall on one side and a 1000'+ drop on the other. And it was steep and muddy and raining cats and dogs.

I had to back out about a half a mile to find a place that I could "barely turn around". I had to inch up to the drop-off and then pull forward to the wall several times until I was pointed back down. I would get out of the truck each time to judge my distance to the drop. I was concerned with getting stuck and the side of the road collapsing sending me over the edge.

Remember the three-foot boulder from my trip up the pass? Now, the road back down (where I had just come from), was completely blocked from the rock slides. I got out of the truck and could hear the rocks still falling around me and it was still raining like no tomorrow.

I was trapped. Nowhere to go, up or down. Rocks falling all around me, on the side of a mountain in a thunderstorm.

I was ready to abandon the truck and call 911 for help. I grabbed my cell phone. No coverage. I was thinking about waiting the storm out (I had enough water and snacks to last a few days), but I was not comfortable with the thought of riding a landslide off the side of the mountain.

I kept thinking about my wonderful kids and wife. And how long it would take for someone to find me.

I got out of the truck and somehow managed to clear a path through the landslide. I would not be surprised if I did not move a rock that weighed at least 300 pounds. It kept rolling and bouncing all the way down. I could not see it hit the bottom because of the clouds, but I could still hear it crashing for what seemed like an eternity.

I made it back down to Jerome and then to Prescott, and I am currently sitting in my hotel room nursing a six-pack.

I am flying home tomorrow and had a route picked out that would take me to Crown King and then down in to Phoenix. I'll stick to the pavement for the rest of this trip.

Somewhere on the mountain. Note the water running next to the wall.

This is a ghost town/old mine on the way up. I would like to have spent some time here.

~ Matthew Rider

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You know what? I'm still not gray. Finally, a few gray hairs sprinkled here and there, but certainly not put there by his antics. Now it's my grandchildren putting the fear in me! 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BABY BOY!

WITH LOVE,

MOM

WE ARE ALL MIGRANTS

El Paso, TX

I have posted a previous piece written by my oldest grandchild Cameron Young regarding this trip to the border that briefly told some of their experiences there. A Brighter Future... The following article, written by Cameron, was recently published on the Unitarian Universalist website. UUA Southern Region 

This take on what Cameron calls "borderlanders" brought back dramatic images of my childhood growing up in Texas. From second-graders having DDT put on their hair to rid them of lice, to the 16-year-old Mexican boy who barely fit into our 4th grade desks as he joined us for the couple of months he was able to come when cotton-picking time was finished and his family had not left to return to Mexico. Even as a young child, I felt sorry for the treatment of these children who had no choice as to where they had been born. Today, the immigrant children being held  in confinement at our borders, elicits the same compassion. Hopefully, the actions of people like Cameron will help shine a light on the abuses of our brothers and sisters seeking asylum, and the history of our complicity in some of the unfortunate circumstances that have driven them to seek refuge in our country. The land of the free.

Todos Somos Migrantes: Journeying Toward Collective Salvation 

        

El Paso, TX; the U.S.-Mexico Border; the line between two different worlds which begin to blend the closer in proximity they become. If it were an abstract painting, the U.S. and Mexico would show up on the canvas in radically different colors and textures, yet I imagine the artist would take her hand and smear it at the places the two countries conjoin, leaving the area of Juarez-El Paso particularly indistinguishable, just as the two cities look like only one from a birds eye view. Juarez-El Paso is an environment of effortless pluralism the type that has sparked nationalist hysteria throughout our country, but I view such pluralism as beautiful, perhaps even anthropological art smeared by the hand of God. Border historian Oscar J. Martinez characterizes U.S.-Mexico borderlands as a place with “powerful transnational forces [which] pull large numbers of borderlanders into the orbit of the neighboring country with a resulting array of cross-boundary relationships and lifestyles.”

In January of this year, I made a trip to this part of the border as part of a contextualization study with my peers at Brite Divinity School. It featured a week full of powerful interactions with numerous borderlanders from all walks of life - clergy and activists to academics to refugees - in one moment, I even found myself praying in a federal courthouse as approximately 30 migrants and refugees, many of whom were barely over the age of 18, would be simultaneously sentenced to prison or deportation.

One truly transformative person we encountered was when we visited the Border Farmworkers Center and met its Executive Director, Carlos Marentes. Marentes has oft been compared to his late colleague and mentor, having been called the Cesar Chavez of the West. The U.S. has a long history of abuse and exploitation of migrant farmworkers, from physical abuse, to employers’ failure to pay already minuscule wages. Carlos was quick to give us information chronicling the history of such exploitation, which frequently goes unpublished. He included a picture of workers being sprayed with the pesticide DDT, at the border as part of the Bracero program in the 1950s. Marentes has made it his life’s work to advocate on behalf of migrant farmworkers to prevent such abuses from occurring.

Talking with him was also a powerful reminder of how deeply intertwined our realities are with the workers. For starters - our food. He pulled out a bucket of chili peppers as a physical example of the painstaking and thankless labor that goes into nourishing our bodies. So striking that someone else’s physical pain could manifest in my physical nourishment.

Marentes also provided some insight regarding the causes of such a magnanimous wave of migration. He explained that most agricultural land in Mexico operated under the Ejido system, meaning most of it was community owned - such a foreign concept in our capitalist society. The Ejido system began to decline mid-20th century when the World Bank created dependencies on loans for farming technology, and died with the North American Free Trade Agreement in 1994, championed by then president Bill Clinton. Allowing U.S. corporations to negotiate with Mexico’s financial elite, the U.S. demanded that the Ejido system be abolished from Mexico’s constitution, allowing foreign interests to buy those lands and force its inhabitants to either leave or work for a fraction of the rewards. Think about that - U.S. corporations now have enough power to change a country’s constitution. And it wasn’t just Mexico, comparable trade policies have been enacted elsewhere, devastating thousands of self-sustaining communities across Latin America, because that is what capitalism inherently does.

NAFTA ushered in an unprecedented level of prosperity for much of the U.S. and unprecedented levels of poverty for Mexico. In that, I have to acknowledge the money in my pocket and the food that I eat is tainted. But while this exploitation of citizens might have brought immediate gratification for us, there are long term ramifications for us, too. This caused millions of workers in Mexico to come to the U.S. to seek work, ramping up what is often referred to as the “immigration crisis (yeah - the U.S. caused it).” This ultimately led to a nationalist backlash and Trumpism, which has certainly sent many of us into a frenzy. More so, these policies boosted the Agricultural Industrial Complex in North America, which is now one of the leading contributors of climate change in the world.

Universalism. What happens to one happens to all. The subjugation of laborers across the world that our country has helped cause, has rendered us lost too. Lost in anxiety over our political climate. Lost over the state of our planet. As Universalists, when we say our salvation is wrapped up in others, it is not a theological abstraction - it’s a reality. And when we speak of salvation, it is not of some hypothetical afterlife. It is Here. Now. Just as Juarez and El Paso, despite being on other sides of a fence and belonging to two separate human social constructions we call countries, they are the same from the perspective of our vast universe. With millions of migrants and refugees journeying toward their salvation - their literal saving, it behooves us to journey with them. Because, in the long term, our saving is also contingent upon it.

We are all migrants. Todos Somos Migrantes.

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Cameron Young is a native Texan and lifelong Unitarian Universalist. Having grown up in those programs, they developed a particular affinity for youth and young adult ministry. Prior to joining the UUA, Cameron served as a lifespan religious educator in Fort Worth, Texas for five years, having helped to implement their congregation’s first ever Coming of Age, Spirit Play, and Young Adults programs. Cameron also served a two-year elected position as Young Adult Co-Facilitator at General Assembly. Cameron has a Bachelor of Music from Louisiana State University and is currently a seminarian at Fort Worth’s Brite Divinity School. A professional musician and classically trained singer, Cameron has performed in numerous operas, musicals, is a member and co-founder of DFW’s Uptown Carolers, a professional Christmas caroling company, and also recorded with Grammy award winner Leon Bridges on his debut album. In their spare time, Cameron is an avid traveler, die hard fan of Dallas sports teams, and devoted coffee drinker.

********************************

This grandmother speaks:

After reading this several times, the policies Cameron speaks of that "boosted the Agricultural Industrial Complex" and raised the level of our contribution to climate change, raised my hackles. It brought to mind how dismayed I was to learn that "The U.S. Department of Agriculture's (USDA) 2015 report on foreign investment in U.S. agricultural land found that at least 26.8 million acres of privately held farmland were held by foreign owners, marking a steady increase over the past 30 years."Foreign-Owned U.S. Farmland  What American investors did to Mexico, foreign countries have been doing to us, China being one of the largest contributors. That fact and the increased industrialization of farming exacerbates the plight of farmers as well as those seeking to work for them.

It behooves us to seriously think about what we can do to help the immigrants desperately trying to gain entry into our country. As we are complicit in their reasons for doing so, we must be complicit in - as Cameron puts it, "their salvation". Listening to the solutions the candidates for our next Presidential election put forth, we can at least make efforts to vote for one who puts forth the most logical, compassionate ways to alleviate the "humanitarian crisis" we are facing. We already know that Trump's ways always favor the corporations.

Peace,

Marilyn

Maid of Honor's Speech for the Bride and Groom

Ashlyn & Audrey

"First off, I’d like to say how overjoyed I am that we could all be here to celebrate Erick and Audrey; two people whom I find so deserving of the love they have found in each other. For those of you who don’t know me, (which is not many of you) my name is Ashlyn, the one who has always been fortunate enough to say that Audrey is my sister. There was never a dull moment growing up with Audrey, whether it be a dance performance (on stage or in the living room), making up games for us to play, taking us on nature hikes, or just bringing all of the family together to put on a skit that she orchestrated all on her own. She had a way of making our childhood feel extraordinary. 

For as long as I can remember, Audrey has exuded elegance and confidence. She has always had the strength to stand up for what she believes in, and to unapologetically be herself while inviting others to do the same. She has a love for her family, friends, and this world that is unmatched. There is a difference between what my sister is to me, and what we are as sisters. She has always been my biggest role model, my built-in best friend, and my go-to when I was in trouble with our mom and dad for no good reason at all… (I’m kidding Mom and Dad, I know you had every right), but more importantly as sisters, we have never allowed each other to feel alone. Through every phase of life, no matter how silly or dark the circumstance or how broken we felt, one of us was always there to help pick up the pieces and remind each other that we are always stronger than we feel. I mean, I don’t know anyone who would listen to me cry about my over-plucked eyebrows, or a mountainous pimple on my face for as long as she has.

When I first learned about Erick, I had to admit I was a little leery. I was going to school in Oklahoma at the time, so I wasn’t able to see anything first-hand.. (Audrey) called me and told me about this cute, curly-headed musician that lives in a 'tiny house' that she kept running into at my mom and dad’s apartment. Well, my first thought was 'what in the world is a tiny house, and why is he at the apartments when he has a tiny house?' As fate would have it, hurricane Harvey’s devastating effects had Erick’s parents seeking refuge in the same apartments as our parents. To me, it is evident that the stars were aligned for them to cross each other’s paths. 

As time went on, my sister was just head over heels in love with Erick and his precious son, Ishan. I still had not met him, and I was anxious as all get out to meet the guy that my sister told me 'could be the one'. When I finally had the pleasure of meeting Erick, I knew he was different. It didn’t take long for me to see that he is fun-loving, he can roll with the punches (which is very important in this family), and that he has the adventurous spirit that my sister has always deserved in a husband. More importantly, it was evident from the very first second I saw them together that Erick loves my sister deeply. Not only did I see that he is a

great addition to the family, but so is his son, Ishan, who shares the same adventurous and kind-hearted spirit as his dad. Since Audrey first met Erick, she has radiated a sense of joy, adventure, and love that Audrey has always been capable of, but with more intensity, and a sense of security than I have ever seen in her before. Erick, you are wonderful. I could not imagine a better man for my sister, or to call my brother-in-law. (They don’t know this, but I’ve been working on the blueprints for adding a room in their house for me… but we can cross that bridge when we get there.) 

I only wish I weren’t kidding…Cheers to the stars aligning, and for endless amounts of patience, love and happiness for the both of you! Congratulations Audrey and Erick!"...Ashlyn

Mother Carajean, Bride, Maid of Honor

Audrey & Father Branch

The beautiful wedding of these two took place outdoors at the bride's parents' Lake Travis home on June 1, 2019.

Instead of rice, the guests held fireworks sparklers as the newlyweds made their way to their "getaway car"! A two-week honeymoon was spent in Italy. I can't wait to see the professional photos taken of the wonderful event as well as the ones the couple took in Italy. These were taken by me or son Matthew. 

This was the first of my seven grandchildren to get married. Of course, it was very exciting, and my daughter did a great job of getting her home and backyard ready for the big event. Forty (or more) people for a sit-down dinner was not an easy task to plan, but it was perfect and everything indoors and out was absolutely beautiful. 

As my second oldest granddaughter Ashlyn caught the bridal bouquet, the next wedding may be sooner than we thought. And -- the love of her life is also named Erik! 

This was/is a lot for this aging grandmother to take in. I bubbled with pride at all of my family, but this was one weary woman at the end of a long, beautiful day.

May you all have as much love in your lives,

Marilyn

ADDENDUM:
Just in.. a few photos by ELISA LOPEZ PHOTOGRAPHY:

  

In Memory of a Big Little Man

 John Nance Garner V 

"I am John Nance Garner. I come for a long line of John Nance Garners. My grandfather's brother, John Nance "Cactus Jack" Garner III, was the Vice-President of the United States for two terms under Roosevelt. My father, John Nance Garner lV, was involved in politics, but not in a national capacity. So here I am, John Nance Garner V. I strayed from the political path, and was a disk jockey for thirty years.

"I act at the Denton Community Theater, do art work, and have written my first novel 'Good Bad and Oh My God.'" 

The above short bio John wrote on his Amazon book page, where you can purchase e-books he has written. After his first book in 2012, he went on to write "The Garners: From a beautiful Welsh woman accused of Witchcraft to a heartbeat away from the presidency", "Thank God Elephants Don't Fly", and his last book "Old Billy", his take on Billy the Kid that he finished in 2017.

******************************************

I lost a dear friend on May 24th. Although his name was John, those of us who knew him called him "Jack". Jack was one of the first persons I met when I started attending Unity Church of Denton in 1989. He really admired the Unity Licensed Teacher we had at the time, Ellen Davis. She had held her first study group in a motel, which Jack attended along with a few other local folks interested in the Unity beliefs. He remained a member for many years, although Ellen Davis didn't return until she was ordained a Unity minister. The church is now known as Unity Spiritual Center of Denton, located in a nearby suburb of Denton, Texas. Shortly before Jack was admitted to hospice care, he was glad that Ellen would be available to conduct his funeral service, and he outlined plans for his wishes. I cried when he shared that with me on one of our last Saturday telephone visits.

For several years after I left Denton in 2001, Jack and I communicated. In the past few years, Jack has called me every Saturday to catch up on the news and his latest endeavor. Most recently his passion was writing Letters to the Editor of the Denton newspaper, the Record-Chronicle. These were primarily political in nature, many of which I posted on this blog. Next to that passion was his morning breakfast at a local coffee shop, where he met with the same circle of men and discussed politics. These were often loud and confrontational - which Jack really enjoyed.

I remember when in his mid-sixties Jack decided he wanted to "create

Judy Dench

art". He knew that I had done a few pastels, so he asked me to show him some of my techniques (which were very amateurish).

Morning Coffee

He was fascinated, so he then took a few lessons. And oh, what lovely portraits Jack was able to paint. They were larger than life, and accomplished by his viewing photographs - many of which he took on yearly visits to a friend in New Orleans. I have one that I cherish that he copied from a photo of me and my two youngest grandchildren.

Fiddle in the Cold

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I posted the following on my blog almost ten years ago. It tells so much about Jack I want to share it again.

“.. My dear friend, Jack Garner, is 73 this month. Jack has gone through many different 'careers' in his life: DJ, actor, artist, barber, hair stylist, and even a stint as a charismatic 'preacher' (his term). From standing on his feet doing folks' hair for so many years, Jack eagerly 'retired' from that profession. After a while, Social Security notwithstanding, Jack determined he still had years of work ahead of him. He started working as a bus monitor for the Denton Independent School District. He rides twice daily picking up special needs children to deliver them to school and back. In the beginning, there was a grown, young man who is over 6-feet tall with the mind of a three-year-old who rode his bus. His name is Trey. Not knowing what to expect, Jack inquired of the driver how he was to handle this man-child should he begin to agitate or turn violent. He was told to sing the children's song, Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star and that would calm Trey. Jack spent the whole weekend memorizing the words to Twinkle. Twinkle..

Rather than feel the job beneath him, or feel that it was extremely boring, Jack began to fall in love with these special children. With no education or training to do this kind of work, he has presented ideas to his supervisor that have been incorporated into the training program for bus drivers and monitors, as well as others who work with these children. He truly cares what happens to them and doesn't look at them as just people to be shuffled around and given busy work. What wonderful work Jack is doing. If everyone could put as much effort into solving little problems in their world, perhaps we wouldn't have so many big problems. Jack wrote the following:

 THE MAGIC MIRROR "I am trying a new thing with my six children with learning disabilities. One thing learning disabled children have in common is low, low self-esteem. 

I remembered the Louise Hay concept of looking in a mirror and saying I love myself, and how hard it is for many adults to do this. So I introduced the kids to Mr. Jack’s 'magic mirror'. When one of these kids gets on the bus, I get my little hand mirror, lean over the seat in front of them. Then I say (if a boy), 'Look into your handsome eyes in your handsome face and repeat after me: I deeply and completely love and accept myself exactly as I am. Now give yourself a big happy smile'. I've been doing this only two days but have already had some results, well considering the time, I call them outstanding results. 

One little girl with ODD (Oppression Defiant Disorder) usually has a scowl on her face and looks as if she is mad at everybody and everything. I did it with her and when she got off the bus she was still smiling. Marcos, a boy in speech therapy who only learned to speak so he could be understood said 'Hey, this is good'.

I play 'trash can', which is calling out 'trash can' every time we see one, with Andrew, who wants to win so badly (I always let him win except when I need to win to keep him on his toes). Last Friday he asked, 'Who won Mr. Jack?' I told him he did. Then I did the mirror thing with him. Afterwards, as he was getting off the bus, he said, 'Mr. Jack, I don't think I won. I think we tied.' I almost lost my false teeth I was so open-mouthed.

I do this twice a day when they get on and when they get off. I'm hoping it will help them emotionally and I am hoping, hoping, hoping that it will cause them to learn better and quicker. 

You can probably tell I'm very excited about this. I especially wanted to tell you about this because you are familiar with Louise Hay. Wish me and them luck."

(About a week later, JACK wrote the following):

"I am now sure that the magic mirror works. This week the angry little girl with ODD got on the bus, walked up to one little boy and hugged him, then walked back to another little boy and hugged him. Friday when we got to school and I said it was time to go, one of the older children from State School walked over to Trey and said 'Let's go, Trey'. In all the times she has ridden with me she has never done anything like this. She took charge of an issue. I have managed to teach Trey to say 'I love myself' - whether he knows what he's saying or not. I don't know, but I am encouraged. 

I know it helps the children emotionally, now if it only helps them to learn. I do have hopes that it will, but only time will tell. 

Done on a consistent basis, the mirror technique will help any child, not just the ones with learning disabilities. Unless the child is the offspring of the equivalent of saints, negative material will be absorbed by them, and they, in some area, will doubt they are loved. If one doubts they are loved, they will doubt themselves and all that they do. I believe some of this is present in all children and the consistent use of the mirror technique will help them. It is more prevalent in children with learning disabilities, as their intelligence is questioned earlier. I believe the mirror method will help build their self-esteem to the point that they will do better in school. 

Friday my regular driver was out and the Special Needs Assistant drove me and the children. What I didn't know at the time was that he was evaluating both the children and me. He told me at the end of the route he had never been so impressed, and that he was blown away by the improvement in Trey. Needless to say, I was proud as a puffed-up pigeon. I was very proud of the kids."

And I was very proud of you, my good friend!

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As the cancer progressed and I was increasingly aware that I was losing my friend, Jack sensed it and told me more than once that he was not afraid to die, but he was afraid of suffering severe pain. Hospice made certain that he never suffered at the end of his life. God bless them.

Jack's only relative in the Denton area, a nephew, Randy Sherling, is in charge of the funeral arrangements. He advised me that it would probably be another week or so before the service.

In the meantime, Rest in Peace, my friend. I miss you already.

 Marilyn

The "Me" that I came here to be.

Oh, wow! I read those words in my Daily Word booklet and had chills run over me, I had just turned on my "background music", a video on YouTube that is said to unlock your true potential" and to "cleanse self-doubt." I always have musical videos running continually when I am on my computer. Most consist of music containing binaural beats, some of which are Native American flutes and drums; some ringing bowls and soft Om chanting; and many with quiet nature sounds of oceans, rain, and waterfalls. The theory is that binaural beats can help create the frequency needed for your brain to create the same waves commonly experienced during a meditation practice. These can be used for different purposes such as healing, increased awareness, relaxation, learning, etc. I particularly like the ones made by The Power Thoughts Meditation Club and Good Vibes - Binaural Beats. I can attest to the fact that listening to these has alleviated lots of my minor aches and pains. But draw out "the me I came here to be"? The results are still out on that.

1982

I remember reading a book in the 80s titled I Love The Person You Were Meant To Be. It is no longer available on Amazon. Written by Martha Wiley Emmett, it is described as "An intense and extraordinarily realistic account of a married woman's mental breakdown." I don't recall much about the book, but obviously I was going through a depression myself. (A divorce followed not long after.) Those of you who know me well know that I have not been very successful at marriage(s). I read that book because maybe I was looking for an answer as to how I could change and be someone else - and be loved for that someone.

Along came the 90s. Still looking for that "me", I fell victim to the craze of what was known as "glamour shots". Even though I considered myself a feminist, strongly supporting the movement in the 70s, another failed marriage once again led me to believe that my happiness depended upon a man to "love" me. And in order to attract the "perfect" one, I must adhere to the notion of "beauty" that was still prevalent after all the women's movement's work. A couple of days before my 52nd birthday, I trekked to the Glamour Shots studio in our local mall, and when the photographer was finished, (I can't believe I did this), I marched down to the Victoria's Secret shop. "Vanity (frailty, divorce), thy name is woman." That perfect man I thought I attracted? He left me at the altar.

It turns out that was not a bad thing. 30 years later and more than a few counseling sessions, I probably am the "me that was meant to be" - a happy mother of three grown children and grandmother of seven beautiful, bright, talented grandchildren, whose parents are equally precious in my eyes. Each has made me proud. They are better parents than I was, with more stability in their lives than I ever gave to them. It was easy to love all of them - and love them better - once I learned to love myself.

I had many dreams and aspirations that were never realized. Those compared so much to my grandchildren's accomplishments it seems supernatural. They appear to have had some of the same dreams early on. Or their parents dreamed for them. At any rate, I love to brag on them, and I praise them every opportunity I get.

I was never very good at the things I loved to do as a child, but that didn't stop me from trying. No matter where my parents took me or sent me, I quickly found a niche to practice my dreams. Singing, dancing, and acting in school productions, I also played a cello for one brief semester in junior high. When the next school didn't have an orchestra, I played the snare drum. Even in the marching band. The drum weighed almost as much as I did.

I have watched my own children and my grandchildren achieve so much -- and be extremely good at those achievements that it is almost as if I am doing it right along with them. It is so thrilling when they excel at what were once my dreams, I cannot resist lavishing the praise. It's as though the Universe is showing me that dreams do come true... sometimes it takes another generation or two. And great parents - as well as a good education.

I wrote a short play when I was about eleven. A neighbor my age and a gullible young girl about four were helping me to act it out. We ceased acting quickly when the little girl's mother discovered us "acting like we were dentists treating her child"! A couple of years later, I was in the process of writing a Christmas play for the little school in a small town in upstate New York when my mother informed us we were moving back to Texas. I attended four schools in three different states that year.

Two of my grandchildren attended Booker T Washington Performing Arts High School in Dallas. To a child who dreams of such things, it affords a great opportunity to test one's abilities. I can only imagine how excited I would have been to attend such a school. My granddaughter not only acted in several performances, she learned playwriting and directing. My grandson went on to study opera in college. They both have a talent for writing as well. 

No matter where their childhood dreams take them in the future, I have had worlds of fun watching each of them testing their wings and learning to fly! Three have already graduated from college. That was my biggest dream of all.

May all of your dreams come true.. even if it happens through your grandchildren.

Love and peace,
Marilyn

EARTH DAY NEWS

Too bad the 1972 song by Three Dog Night didn't spur a big enough movement to slow down the damage being done to our world. "Joy to the fishes"? So many are shrinking in numbers along with their brothers and sisters of the deep. And in many places, that sea isn't "deep blue" anymore. Overfishing, warming waters, discarded trash, and the millions of molecules of leftover plastic being swallowed by these marine animals, are placing some on the verge of extinction.

By now you all know that this is Earth Day. Watching the news and the accompanying pictures and videos, leaves one wondering what this world will be like in a few very short years. One doesn't have to be a scientist to recognize the changing weather patterns. The increase in the number and severity of hurricanes, cyclones, tornadoes, and wildfires is evident throughout the year. We barely get over the pain of seeing the pitiful victims, the ruins of their homes and belongings, and thinking how fortunate we are to be spared such destruction -- at least this time -- when the next disaster hits planet earth. 

Unfortunately, the news of the destruction still outweigh the "good news" of people and organizations working to find solutions to undo or prevent the damage we have wrought. We witness daily the effects of pollution, natural disasters, and wars. The news show CBS This Morning now has a series titled "Earth Matters", which covers "climate change across the globe." This morning's segments were on deforestation of the Amazon rainforest and what is being done to help stop it Amazon Forest, the scientists studying the changes in the sea floor in Antarctica Sea Floor Expedition, the use of solar energy by the young generation in South Africa's Energy Revolution, as well as topics on air pollution and the challenges faced by our water sources.

The fact that a portion of the Rio Grande River has been bone dry in recent times (due to drought) was particularly frightening to me. As a Texas gal, I've always believed that river would be here forever. Watch just a few of the above videos and read the articles on efforts taken across the globe to help the environment, and join in or donate to the causes.

(Rigs to Reefs - Mission Blue)

An article about oil rigs (I grind my teeth at them) and wind turbines mounted on the ocean beds surprised me. My younger son Matthew once was an avid scuba diver who brought back beautiful photographs of underwater coral reefs. The thought that some have already been "killed" is discouraging. Technology is contributing to the deaths of so much of our sea life. However: "researchers are urging governments to reconsider a law in which sea installations – such as oil rigs and wind turbines – have to be removed at the end of their lifespan, which can last for 20 or 30 years. The reason for this is that all the infrastructure needed to anchor the structures to the sea floor eventually becomes beneficial to plant and fish life." 

Now that is creative! Researchers also state that they see many more porpoises around oil rigs than in the surrounding sea. If only oil companies would cease to drill in our oceans..and may we never have a disastrous oil spill like the Deepwater Horizon oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico 9-years ago this month. One of the worst oil spills in our nation's history, the impact of the environmental damage to our Gulf Coast ecosystem is ongoing.

(plastic-pollution.org)

The plastics which plague our environment are gradually being replaced. Many are opting out of using plastic utensils, shopping bags, water bottles, and especially straws. Many cities are banning the use of plastic bags, and recycling has become such a problem that China has begun to refuse to accept materials from the U.S. to be recycled. 

The length of time required for plastic to disintegrate in our landfills as well as the danger to our sea wildlife makes replacing it a priority to many ecologists today. A nonrenewable resource, synthetic plastic production contributes not only to global warming, but the transport of the unlimited items made from it to factories at all corners of the globe also increases its carbon footprint. 

(John Cunningham, JONAA's Marine Science Editor)

"Algae bioplastics were discovered when many companies were exploring alternative sources of biofuels for reducing greenhouse gas emissions and fossil fuel consumption.

"Bioplastics or natural plastics are a variety of plastics based on renewable biomass resources which include vegetable oil, corn starch, pea starch as opposed to fossil-fuel plastic materials created from petroleum." Algae Bioplastics

Kudos to the Dutch designers, Eric Klarenbeek and Maartje Dros,  who spent three years creating their biopolymer, made of local raw materials. They subsequently used materials such as organic resources like mycelium, potato starch, cocoa bean shells, and, more importantly, algae.. Algae Plastic.

A couple more items that peaked my interest: 

1) We may soon be able to melt down plastic waste into fuel for hydrogen cars. (Ahem, who has a hydrogen car?) And 2) Ultra cheap printable solar panels are now available in Australia.

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More good advice from CBS This Morning. Three things you can do to help protect the environment.

1. Eat less meat. "Have meatless Mondays." Livestock are a major source of carbon emissions.

2. Cut your freeway usage. (Take a train or bus. Car pool.)

3. And of course, reduce your plastic use.

Spiritual traditions often contain good ideas to encourage us to take care of our Mother Earth:

"To truly practice Zen therefore means not leaving lights burning when they are not needed, not allowing water to run unnecessarily from the faucet, not loading up your plate and leaving food uneaten." Philip Kapleau in 365 Zen by Jean Smith

To Practice This Thought:

"Find ways to be respectful of the things you use and encounter, bearing in mind that water, food, light, and other resources are gifts."

So many people are not blessed with even these necessities of life. May we teach our children better than we were taught.

Peace and love for out planet,
Marilyn

A MOMENT'S BREATH

There has been much excitement in the news lately -- some of it good and some of it not-so-good. I thought it best to post something uplifting instead of ruminating over items that promise to bring us down. As my regular readers are aware, I am particularly fond of reporting the good news emanating from my talented grandchildren. 

My daughter's son, Tanner, has been honored recently by eno Magazine. an arts and literature magazine published by the Nicholas School of the Environment at Duke University. (Which, by the way, is where Tanner's sister Audrey received her master's degree.) He received notice from the Editor of the magazine: "I am happy to announce that your work has been selected for the 8th Edition of eno Magazine...your work completely blew us away and we are honored to publish your beautiful piece in this year's magazine." I was completely blown away myself when Carajean forwarded this to me. 

Blown away, but not surprised. Tanner has shown to be a gifted writer in the past. In 2017 I posted a poem from his Freshman English class. A Talent Exposed  Not only is he an accomplished writer, tennis player, and cellist, but he is now taking up playing the guitar. I'm thinking... Bob Dylan maybe?

Branch Tanner Archer, IV

See for yourself:

A MOMENT'S BREATH                                              

For life had not been fun, I must admit,
The past few months just pain. A broken vow:
“From loneliness shall I help you remit.” 

One night I left the library. Allow
Me to explain the strange sensation I
Soon felt, the one that changed my life. Just how?

You’ll see, with patience please progress. “Goodbye.” 
Said I, the house of books receding now. 

Aluminum I rode that night, a spry

Gray bike, for chains and gears cannot break vows.
This friend of mine was one of speed, the tick
Of clocks could not quite part. With time my brow

Grew wet with sweat. Oh no! A slick? A stick?
Not I nor you will know—the cause of my
Short fall is not what matters most. A thick

Abundant patch of grass, a strip nearby
On which my flying form could land devoid
Of pain. No blade of grass could hide the eye

Of strangers passing by. At first, annoyed,
My body-bike conjoined, I only sought
One thing, one goal: the stranger’s eye avoid!

Then something wonderful occurred. No thought
Had I like this before. My laugh and squawk,
No stop to come, my heartfelt laugh, onslaught

Of joy! How much I wished on my night walk
That I could see a sight like his, a sight
Hysterical--the gift of laughing stocks.

Once laughter dies a second phase alights--
The phase of mirth, of happiness content.
My eyes now drift and gazed at skies of night

A tranquil view ignites my heart’s ascent
To lights that soar and wink. No thought had I

Now up above a land and world so bent 

On keeping eyes down low. The stars nearby
From which I once were made held me with care.
A friend I found in life. No time had I,

To fret on this or that. One life to stare
To dream and feel among the Greatest Web
Through which we all connect and share.

This friend and I completed nature’s dance.
A cosmos filled my lungs in just one breath
That changed my life and loneliness remit. 

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A note before closing.. there have been instances to remind us of the Crucifixion during this Holy Week. Notably, the burning of Notre Dame Cathedral. I have also been reminded of "resurrection". The millions of dollars already donated to repair the Cathedral is one example.. God bless the people who are willing to assist in its resurrection. We might even think of occurrences in our own lives that have raised us up from our despair. It is a season of overcoming.

Happy Easter,

Marilyn