OLD FRIEND MISSING

Eric's Blog

Old Friend Missing

 

You have jolted the recesses of my memory.

Tracing those faded images of

you, and us, I capture me, my

roots, the many paths I've taken

to be who I am. I have seen me in

depth.

 

We've aged together, lived together

in a common time. We've shared dreams

and disappointments.

We shared a heritage, a

common rite of passage.

 

Now you are gone

my old friend is missing.

 

With awareness of our destiny

I journey alone,

until I join you.

 

A couple of weeks ago my dear old friend Mel Segal died. The poem and letter are in his memory. I'll miss him alot.

 

Dearest Mel,

During a journey that began 45 years ago, you, Ken and I forged a deep, wonderful and enduring friendship that has blessed and enriched my life.

With an intelligent and astute mind, you brought to our trio a value of responsibility that always kept us on the right track. Sometimes it was hard to agree with you and playfully we called you "Superego" but you were usually right and probably saved us from lots of trouble. Those years together in the Public Health Service  when we worked together, argued together and had lots of good times together, cemented an invaluable bond that even in death is not broken.

Over the years, as we went our separate ways, we kept in touch, sharing the ups and downs of our lives. In retirement frequent e-mails brought us even closer. Once again, Mel, you enriched my life with your creative mind, sending me all manner of wonderful and insightful thoughts and ideas and beautiful images that you had discovered.

Mel, you were such a good man, with a supportive, loving heart and sharp intellect and you left your distinctive and meaningful mark on the world.

Remember to give those angels trouble it they are not in line and you will probably be correct.  

 



My Mother's Furs

Lesley's Blog

My mother died several years ago at the grand age of 92, the end of a life well lived. She was not a big spender or a collector so sifting and sorting her possessions was relatively easy for my sister, Maggie, and I. There was nothing of any significant monetary value and the grandchildren and great grandchildren had no interest in things they considered as old-fashioned. Neither Maggie nor I are very sentimental, so we saved only a few of her possessions as keepsakes.

As a young woman, mother loved clothes and especially liked to dress in ways that were a little different and creative. She made some of her own clothing and I remember she told me once that she wanted to be a fashion designer but simply did not have the opportunity. Instead she worked at a local store doing customer alterations until she married.

 (my fashionable mother)

Those were the times when people did what they needed to do to survive and dreams mostly went unfilled. And yet also today, many dreams are not realised, even for those who are immensely talented. We recently watched the movie, "Twenty feet from stardom", about back-up singers. The performers in this excellent documentary were amazing singers most of whom would have liked to have become stars. Their talent was not in question but somehow they remained in the background. The lead singer of the group Sting spoke of how it is not just about talent but also about opportunity, luck and many other factors that have nothing to do with how good a voice is.

We all have dreams but many of us also need to allow a back-up plan to develop, just in case our dreams do not manifest. If we are not able to release, grieve, let go and move on from these unfulfilled dreams then we are often caught in regret and bitterness, unable to open ourselves up to making a life that is meaningful in ways we previously did not imagine. I wanted to be a physician from early childhood but it did not happen. Instead I became initially a research scientist, which also did not go the way I had hoped, and then retrained to be a clinical psychologist, a profession I knew nothing about when I ended my scientific career. I've loved it and this plan C was something I had no dream or vision about earlier in my life.      

After mother married she continued to make clothes mostly for Maggie and I, when we were children, and even made outfits for my dolls, to my great delight. Eventually she opened a wool and drapery store and began to use her love of and talent for fashion with considerable success. She was not a fashion designer but a plan B offered her an enjoyable and meaningful career, just as it did for me.  

But I have digressed from the story of the furs. Mother and Father married in the late thirties on the day after Christmas and she wore a lovely short white fur jacket over her wedding dress. After her death we discovered she had kept that fur, together with a brown waist length fur cape, both in remarkably good condition. Mother was a rather slightly built woman but she produced much larger children. The furs were much too small for any of the family and in addition everyone considered furs as politically incorrect in this day and age. Nobody wanted the furs but I could not bear to part with them so when I returned to the U.S.A. I packed them in my suitcase and brought them home. Then, like mother, I hung them unused in the closet. 

This year I took them to the furriers to see if there was a way to use the two pieces to make one wearable item. After examining them, the owner of the store told me that the furs were not of a high enough quality to make the restoration worthwhile. I was disappointed and sad but glad about his honesty. As I was leaving the store I turned and asked him if he knew of anyone who might appreciate the furs. He suggested that I donate them to a local university theater department, which I was immediately excited about. It felt right. 

When I took them to the drama department at a nearby university, I was directed to the costume area. The staff were thrilled to have these well preserved pieces from the 1930's and assured me that they would have "stage time". I told them that they had belonged to my mother and that she had worn the white rabbit fur jacket on her wedding day. They were attentive to my story and empathic when I became a little teary. After I had handed over my precious package I looked around the large room where costumes from various eras were being designed, altered, mended and readied for upcoming productions. I realised that Mother would have loved working there and it felt as if her furs had found the right home. I do hope she agrees.                  

THE GLASS

Eric's Post

The Glass

 

The glass is a bit

More than half full

 

Half full is 

Realistic

 

Less than half is

Pessimistic

 

A bit more than half is

Optimistic

 

Two people looking out of the same window often see different things. One sees the birds and the flowers. The second sees the garbage cans and cluttered debris. All of these things are there but one person focuses on the eye appealing stuff while the other focuses on the ugliness.

 



 

In this photograph of the White Canyon some people will see only arid waste land. Others will see a stark beauty and the promise of thriving life.

 

In life sometimes we have choices of what we look for. Psychologists tell us that some people see the glass as a little more than half full. They look for the beauty and find it. They are more likely to experience positive emotions like happiness, joy and awe because they are simply more likely to look for it and seek it out.

 

So, see the glass a bit more than half full.