Long Hollow

Finishing a blog post, and other sweet!s from September...

 

Tonight there's a super moon and lunar eclipse, all rolled into one event. I planned to take photos as the moon rose above the horizon, but discovered my camera battery was dead!

So I charged it some and then made it out in time to witness the eclipse with Daniel, who just arrived home safely from a weekend trip to west Texas with his brother, where they hiked through canyons, visited eclectic art exhibits, experienced a music festival, and even saw the Marfa lights. Sweet!

However, the photos I took of the eclipse are pretty lame because my equipment isn't quite high tech enough, so I'm not even going to share them here, but standing there in the quiet of the night with my son, watching the moon slowly turn dark, was just the peaceful break I needed after a hectic, high stress week. 

The thing is, September overflowed with sweet! moments, but it rushed by so fast, it was hard to really stop and savor them. So I'm determined to get back into the practice of recording them, in some form or fashion. And reviewing them here on my blog helps a lot!

So, working backward from the lunar eclipse, here are a few I've gathered this month...

 

Anticipation of an annual weekend at the beach with friends, which isn't as good as the actual weekend, but it's still a shining light full of hope! (This photo is from last year.)

 

Joining other council members from your church for an inspirational retreat. A peaceful setting, an energetic, passionate, funny leader, and a Pope Selfie, courtesy of an iPhone app! 

After viewing several properties with a young family, walking into yet another house and knowing immediately it was just the right one for them.

Remembering the night 34 years ago when you met your love for the very first time.

 

Walking your puppy in the glow of a glorious sunrise.

 

Finding out your friend has published another book! (Buy it on Amazon and I'll get a couple of pennies! Beneath this Mountain, by Byron Tully)

 

Thinking you're attending the surprise 30th birthday party of a girl/woman you've watched grow up, and then witnessing a proposal of marriage from her boyfriend who was supposed to still be in Iraq (on his 4th tour of duty, no less.) Whew! That was a lot of sweet!s for one night!

 

Hitting a pinata for the first time in 50 years! (This photo is obviously not me. It's my son, who got lots of practice thanks to all of his birthday parties growing up. But I do have a video of myself hitting it, courtesy of my daughter-in-law's cousin. (Thanks, Sierra!) I just have to say, hitting a pinata is GREAT therapy!)

 

Football Fiestas thrown by your kids. (My son and his wife are party meisters! Food, fun, activities, games, football on several televisions, and even crafts for all ages.) 

 

The Texas Capitol Rotunda.

 

Attending a Platinum Top 50 Real Estate Agents of Austin event at Lakeway Resort, and witnessing a gorgeous sunset on Lake Travis.

  

 Another sunset on Lake Travis.

 

 

Joining others to pray for a friend's baby grandson who will be undergoing heart surgery today, Tuesday, September 29. Please join us!

Celebrating a friend's birthday at an awesome Italian restaurant.

Not having to replace your whole air-conditioning system in your house... yet.

 

 Young love and heroes.

    Dinner and a movie with friends.

    Enjoying a performance by accordion players with your mom.

 

A day of sunshine and water on Lake Travis, with your son and daughter-in-law and friends.

 

 

Remembering and honoring a special person. 

 

(You may have guessed that I actually started this post last night. Probably even before that, but I had good intentions last night. What matters most, for me, is being able to look back through the quick iPhone photos to see that the month was truly full of special moments. Too often I let them pass and fade away, forgotten. Taken for granted.

Well, here's one for today. A sweet young couple closed on their current home today after having their offer on a new home accepted late last night. My job is full of ups and downs, but that was definitely one of the ups. 

So here's to an October full of balance and appreciation and focus, where no sweet! slips away unnoticed!)

 

"Gratitude is an art of painting an adversity into a lovely picture."

~Kak Sri

 

Every evening at 5:30...

 

 

Did you know that every evening at 5:30 pm on Lackland Air Force Base in San Antonio, the Star-Spangled Banner is played over loudspeakers, and at the first note, everyone stops walking, talking, or whatever they are doing to salute the closest United States flag, whether they can actually see it or not?

 

 

I didn't know it, until last weekend. I found it very reassuring, like knowing that every minute of every day, prayers for peace are being lifted at a Mass somewhere in the world.

 

 
Is there a way to have the Star-Spangled Banner play on my phone every evening at 5:30, so I don't forget to be grateful for my country and our freedom?

 

 

Four days spent on an Air Force base, attending graduation ceremonies and hanging out with an airman, is a great reminder of the sacrifices that are made on our behalf every day to ensure that freedom.

 

 

I'm grateful I was able to do just that this past weekend, surrounded by young men and women (so young!) focused on serving their/our country for the next few years, ready to go where they are told to go and do what they are told to do. 

 

 

TG's boyfriend is one of them, currently training for a job that isn't very safe, but it's the one he feels called to do. My prayers will be with him and all of the others, along with my thanks, as they head off on this journey. 

 

 

This nation will remain the land of the free only so long as it is the home of the brave. 

~Elmer Davis

How do you hug a house?

 

So, house, we love thee, as we could not love
A palace wherein no pulse of love had struck,
Where farewells had not been—and where
No busy memories haunt the vacant rooms.
~J.J. Britton (1832–1913), "A Home"

 

 

 

I'm nearing the end of this summer's journey of clearing out my parents' home.

My childhood home. 

 

 

What began as a heavy weight upon my heart turned into a mission of love. I admit that when I began this project I was irritated they my parents hadn't taken me up on my many offers to help them sort through closets and boxes. 

I vowed I wouldn't leave a task like this for my kids. 

 

 

 

But it turned out to be a cathartic experience, after all...  the sorting, the remembering (thanks to my sister!) ... it all awakened a flood of happy memories centered in that simple house.

 

 

 

 Plus, I felt I was repaying my parents, doing something for them that they couldn't do for themselves. It had usually been the other way around. 

Although, it turns out Daddy had been doing a little sorting. The attic, a place I had feared all of my life and dreaded peering into during this process, turned out to be totally empty.

Thank you, Daddy!

 

Now I'm not so worried about leaving a project like this for my kids. (Sorry, kids! Blame your grandparents!)

But don't worry... I definitely plan to weed through and toss (I have way more stuff than my parents!) but I can see how the process can be a healing one.

As a good parent, how can I begrudge my children a healing experience?  

 

 

My kids were awesome, though, all three coming with me when they could, and even TG's boyfriend one Saturday, cleaning and sorting, and helping to carry furniture. Daniel is the one who actually braved the attic and saw that the coast was clear.  Whew!

And Tom is the one who truly helped lift the weight off my heart and helped me  begin to move forward; he whirled from room to room like the Tasmanian Devil, cleaning out pantries and drawers, making more progress in one day than I had in a week's worth of Saturdays.

None of us looked forward to the four-hour drive there and back every Saturday this summer, much less the three to four hours spent there sweating in an un-air-conditioned home in the Houston suburbs, in the hottest part of the day, in the hottest part of a Texas summer.

Ugh.

It was exhausting.

 

 

But my parents were extraordinary in so many ways, and again, I'm grateful we could do this for them. I'm glad their last days in the house were spent as if they would go on there forever, not spent sorting and preparing for the day they would no longer be there. 

 

 

It helped that most of the large pieces of furniture went to friends... or friends of friends. Who became new friends.

I took photos as we said goodbye, which in some weird way helped me let go.

I've already written about my grandmother's piano... 

 

 

Daddy's chair went to a young dad-to-be. I think Daddy would like it that it would be used to rock a baby. He loved babies.

 

 

The kitchen table was another tough one. So many holiday meals, school projects, and breakfasts by Daddy with my kids. 

So many hours reading Tarzan or Nancy Drew, and so many gallons of coffee consumed while just talking, talking, talking...

Oh, the stories that table could tell!

But... I didn't need the table. Honestly, it was stained with so much newspaper ink I knew it would need a good refinishing, and the last thing I needed was another project.

I'm satisfied to have my memories and hundreds of photos of holiday meals, breakfasts with Daddy, and birthday celebrations around it.

 

 So I said goodbye.

It's going to a new friend's mom's house, where I hope it will be the center of many happy memories-in-the-making.

 

 

But to answer my own question: "How do you hug a house?"

One way is to turn an estate sale into a celebration, where friends buy your furniture, keep you company, and bring wine to toast the awesomeness of growing up in a home that overflowed with love, where the good memories overpowered the bad ones by far.

 

 

Thank you, Rae, for making sure we celebrated instead of mourned. And thank you to all of the other friends who bought furniture, helped with the estate sale, or just stopped by to say hello on one of those Saturdays. It truly carried us through this. 

 

 

 

If you're faced with this journey, my advice to you is to embrace it. See it as the mission of love that it is, a last gift to your parents. Dive into the memories and embrace them, the good and the bad, because they are what made you distinctly you. 

Don't be afraid to hang on to too many photos or knick knacks. If there's any hesitation whether to keep it or toss it, just keep it. You can toss it later. It doesn't matter when you do it. It can be a process. 

But also realize that goodbyes are okay. Those objects did their job. They were part of your parents' lives - or your grandparents' lives or your brother's life, as in my case. They already served a purpose or brought joy.

They don't necessarily have to be a part of your life.

But I'm grateful for the memories I have, and the ones my sister can share with me, since she's older. I'm also so grateful I had her right beside me on this journey.

 

 

And I'm extremely grateful for all of the photographs I've inherited, along with the ones I've taken. They will keep that sweet old house alive even after we say our final goodbye.

 

 

You can never go home again, but the truth is you can never leave home, so it’s all right.

~Maya Angelou

Coach Christine and the Cosmos - the story continues...

Once upon a time, I was a soccer mom, sweating or freezing on the sidelines, gripping the arms of my collapsible chair, or pacing up and down, trying my best to bite my tongue, when I couldn't sit still.

And then TG joined the Cosmos, and Coach Christine took all of my angst onto her own shoulders. I no longer had to pace or coach from the sidelines. She paced up and down, shouted when and what I longed to shout, got angry when I was angry...

I was finally able to sit on the sidelines and enjoy the game. What a relief!

It was after TG had graduated from high school and said her goodbyes to the Cosmos that we learned of Christine's cancer, and then later, of her passing. It inspired me to write about her in "Coach Christine, Queen of the Cosmos."

But Christine's passion and joy extended beyond the soccer field. As a registrar for the Leander School District, she touched many lives, and that's why the district decided to name a new school after her this year.

And if that isn't awesome enough, that a district would name a school after a mom/registrar, the mascot for the school is the Cosmos. 

TG and I attended the dedication of the elementary school yesterday afternoon. Coach David and Christine's brother, who they adopted at age 11 when their mom passed away of cancer, spoke about Christine's bravery, passion, and high standards. Her daughter and two sons sat on the stage, smiling at the recognition given to their mom. She would be proud of them. 

Christine juggled two jobs, coached a couple of soccer teams, shuttled three kids to practices, managed a household, and took on the responsibility of raising her brother, all with a huge smile. She showed no favoritism. All were loved and criticized equally.

That's what I already knew - and loved - about her.

What I didn't know was she also helped some of the girls on the Cosmos with their college applications and paid their application fees when they balked about going.  She grew up in Harlem, New York City, valedictorian of her high school, and won scholarships to a prep school in New England and went on to Lehigh University.

She believed in education and accepted no excuses. 

So kudos to Leander School District for recognizing that Christine Camacho absolutely deserved to have this new school named after her. It was probably my imagination, but I could sense Christine there... so much energy and joy and excitement. 

Coach David asked the Cosmos girls to stand up. There were six or seven of them there, out of about 20 who wore the Cosmos jerseys. Pretty impressive, considering they are all in their early 20's now, and many no longer live in the area.

At the end of the dedication , they joined the staff in the Cosmos chant... 

"C! o-s-o-s M! o-s-o-s C! o-s-o-s M! o-s-o-s COSMOS!"

That chant, and the Cosmos, will live on forever... in Leander, Texas. That makes me very happy.

 

I hope you rest in peace, Christine, knowing that the seeds you planted are blooming and thriving. 

 

Some people say soccer's a matter of life or death, but it isn't.  It's much more important than that. 

~Variation of a famous saying