A Lamp in the Window

I took a walk in the evening last night to feel the cool, moist springtime air. It was just about 7:30 on a Sunday when everyone is starting to think about the week ahead and winding down their weekends.

As I walked through my quiet neighborhood , I noticed all the lamps in the windows of people's homes. For some reason, I have always felt such a warm and inviting feeling when I see these lights go on just as the darkness is about to come upon us.

Each house that I looked upon had a different light - some tall, some short, old style Tiffany lamps, some chandeliers in the dining room. Some had their curtains drawn , so that it created a dim lighting effect behind it.  And I have funny memories of the "leg lamp" in the window from the Christmas movie - A Christmas Story. My brothers and nephew love that movie - I am not a big fan but they love it and my brother's kids actually bought one for him for Christmas!



I wonder, are the people that live there crawling up under a blanket with a good book near that light? or is the light a beacon for those that are away for awhile and the light is calling them home? Is someone reading the daily newspaper? or perhaps reading a book to their child who is sitting on their lap? Or does this light provide some sort of warmth for them as they go about tidying up the house after a busy weekend?

My mind wanders and creates some story of each house and what the Lamp in the Windows means for them. The imagination soars and all sorts of children and grandparents run through my head. Smells of roast beef dinner and homemade cookies waft through the air, giggles and smiles and hearts that are happy and content.

As darkness comes and my evening walk comes to a close , I cross the street to see the Lamp in my Window calling me home.

Kimberley

A Gift from My Mother

Yesterday, My Mom's husband, my niece and I had dinner together. I love Sunday, Family dinners - they give me such a warm feeling of tradition and togetherness. A time to catch up , a time to just "be" with each other.

We had a lot of laughs! In fact, another patron in the restaurant actually came over to us and told us that we ruined her dinner because we were laughing so loud! How random right? And I felt sorry for her, if she couldn't share in the joy of laughter!

And we cried too.. for the person who wasn't seated there with us. But her spirit was for sure! Every so often in the conversation we would talk about her and I could tell her husband was having a tough day. You see, my Mother asked me to publish her writings not two months before she died. I asked her husband to gather as much of her work as he could find so I could start to get my head together on how to do that.

My Mother , like me, had a file folder of individual pieces of paper where she jotted her thoughts down and she wrote things on her computer. Her husband went through many of those writings yesterday morning and cried in his green house.

As we said our goodbyes and he handed me my Mother's laptop and the folder that contained her writings, I watched him walkaway. He walked alone - without my Mom. Without the wheelchair, without the oxygen tank, without helping her into the truck. And my heart felt so sad.

You see, I am used to living alone without a partner - I have been doing it a long time. Do I like it? Most days I am ok with it, but I would love to have someone to share my life with. Am I used to it? Yes.. But my Mom's husband is not used to being alone and my heart went out to him.

On the drive home, my niece and I talked of various daily life things. I didn't want to focus on my Mom too much as I feel in some ways, we all need to start moving on as best we can.

I settled in for the night to watch my favorite show on the Hallmark Channel and I reached down to the file folder that contained my Mothers writings. And just as I had praised her work as a young girl when I first read them at the age of 12, I admired them now as a mature woman.

Did I cry? Yes.. Was my heart filled with warmth? Yes! There were writings addressed to my brother Scott, to myself, thoughts of her marriages and her sad heart when they ended, thoughts of Mother Earth - which I will definitely share with the world! And the beginnings of her children's book about a WoodChuck!

And as I read through them, I was reminded of something my Mother had said to me when I first started this blog. She said " the torch has been passed - you are officially a writer and a better one that I"

Well, if you were to read the beautiful musings of my Mother - I don't know that one could say I am the better writer.

 For the longest time, I never felt that I inherited any of my Mother's craftiness. She was such an artist in every way - she taught herself to sew, to knit, she made greeting cards , she was a great cook, she was a wonderful entertainer, she even taught herself how to use new technology. However, what I do know for sure - is that she gave me her Gift.

Her writings sit in the folder with her laptop, near the couch. I am not quite ready to dig in to create the publishing project of her work and mine - but I am getting close to it.

Thank you Mom for this Gift. I miss you every day - it's hard and I cry a lot but I am also trying to move on.

With Love and so much Gratitude in my heart,

Kimberley

On Being Part of a Family and Honoring Spiritual Traditions

I typically don't write a piece so specific to my family, but I felt inspired to do so today.

This Sunday was such a touching experience for me as I watched another one of my nephews children get baptized. Why was this one any different than the baptism of his other two children?

Because my Father was there.

You see my Father and his wife have taken such an active role in our family over the last few years since my Mother had a brush with death. I will never know what they discussed when she called them to her bedside, but whatever it was, our family has been blessed with the gift of my Father and his wife ever since.

I was rushing (per usual) to get myself together to get to the church on time with my 11 year old car that sounds like it needs a new exhaust. I didn't want to drive in the parking lot and have everyone notice I was there and I wanted time for prayer before the service started.

As luck would have it , I arrived just as my nephews wife was pulling in with the children. Their four year old, bolted out of the van all dressed in his Sunday best and the baby bundled to protect him from the cold.

We walked into the church together, the peacefulness of the inside of the sacred space filling my soul. The little one in his mothers arms was captivated by all the shiny objects that adorned this beautiful catholic church - his eyes just moving from one to the other.

I watched him and couldn't get over how much he looked like my nephew when he was born!

Many family members were there  to celebrate this sacred rite of passage for this beautiful newborn baby and it truly warmed my heart. I am not a "religious person" per se. I believe that there is one Spirit/God that somehow in their magnificent way, manages to keep this Universe all working and they love with no judgement. I love some of the sacredness and rituals of the Catholic Church and the rite of baptism holds a special meaning for me. Its a spiritual birth of sorts. Yes, its symbolic but so meaningful.

The service began and the voices of our very extended family responded to the readings from the Deacon. I listened to the voices and felt the warmth of the spirit among us.

My heart was overflowing with soulful happiness.

The Deacon asked if there were grandparents present who wanted to bless the water prior to the baby getting baptized.

And my Father got up to join my nephews wife's parents. It was one of the most touching moments of my life. I just wished my Mother had been there to join in as well.

So, I jumped up to snap some pictures, knowing that someday, I would hand them to that little guy to remember this moment of his life.

As I look at this picture now, it still warms my soul and I am so blessed to be a part of a wonderful family. Yes, we have our issues, but we are still a family. We all know it in our hearts. And for this I am so very grateful.

I went to bed Sunday night so content and my soul so full. I am so thankful to my parents who gave birth to this ever growing family. Thankful for the traditions they gave us and the values they raised us with.

I am so grateful to my nephew and his wife for giving us the gift of their children to play with, laugh with and watch them grow.

May All of You Cherish those Family Traditions...

Love and Light,

Kimberley

Asking For Help, Weakness or Strength?

This is an interesting question right? Especially for women. I cannot speak for men but I am certain that it applies to them as well.

Recently I had a bout of food poisoning on a Sunday morning with a house full of guests to take care of.  It took me an hour to just muster up the strength to go downstairs to feed my cats! I had a blaring headache, and my body was clearly rejecting something as I ran to the bathroom so many times, I lost count.

My body felt like it had been taken over by some evil gremlin! My guests were sound asleep and I was struggling. For the first time in my life, I felt like I couldn't take care of myself let alone four guests and two furry, black cats. It was a bit scary and I knew I needed help when I started to choke.

And so, I reached out to a friend and she came without question. I was mortified to have someone see me in such a state. You see, I am usually the strong one helping everyone else. She went and  laid out breakfast for my guests and explained to them that I was ill. She went to the tried and true alternative healing books we both share and quickly started assessing what was happening. Even through the many trips to the bathroom we were able to figure this out together and find out what I needed. She ran to the store and came back with a number of basic things I needed - gingerale, a piece of ginger, acidopholis, ginger tea and charcoal. I ate the banana for potassium and took the charcoal and drank the gingerale with pieces of ginger in it. And I started to feel better.. ( and perhaps it was the bazillion times I was in the bathroom as well? hahaha)

I was so grateful to have her there with me. These are the times I had wished I had a boyfriend or husband who was there to "punt for me" and hold my hand!

However, I am so grateful to have a large circle of female friends who would help me with anything I need. Whether it's watching me discard the "gremlin within me" in a bowl on a Sunday morning or help me figure out a software program to move my business along.

As I think about the concept of "asking for help", I remember the days in my life when I felt that this was a weakness. I was supposed to be a strong, independent woman who could whip the world and make anything happen.

Well, I have since learned that this is not a weakness , but a strength. This world we live in is complex and oftentimes is challenging. Being strong doesn't mean that you edge people out and let no one in. Being strong means being confident, loving, listening to your inner self  and knowing that those you love are there for you.

It's funny how life reflects back to you all these little lessons because as I am writing this, I had an "ah ha" moment as Oprah calls them.

You see, a few weeks ago, I had an ex-boyfriend of mine who is very smart, super successful in business, vibrant and full of life - reach out to me for help. He was having hip surgery and wanted to know if I would help him through the surgery and recovery. I didn't even think twice - I said "of course." And that's exactly what I have done. I was with him the entire day yesterday from 8:30 am through almost 11:00pm.  As he started to go under the anesthesia and we discussed the post operative process with the nursing staff, I assured him I would not leave his side.

He looked at me and said " I appreciate that baby" - an endearing term he used with me when we were dating. I smiled to myself as his eyes closed and the anesthesia took hold.

Never in my mind did I think he was weak for asking me for help. On the contrary. I was so appreciative that he thought enough of me that he could count on me, despite the fact that we hadn't dated in years.

And so, "what we give out, comes back to us" as my spiritual mentor, Wayne Dyer says.

So funny, the coincidences of life. And today as I was doing my morning meditation and writing, I bumped into Marie Forleo's post about a woman entrepreneur who started this amazing jewelry business. And what did they talk about? Asking for help !  Check it out - here's the link.

http://www.marieforleo.com/2015/10/satya/

http://www.satyajewelry.com/


Yes, sometimes our friends or family can't help us when we need them to, but there are always other ones to back them up!

The moral of this story? Mmm..Don't be afraid to ask for help. It is a gift to others.  I am reminded of a conversation my mother had with a friend of hers long ago. This was a church friend, who actually was my earliest spiritual teacher. Sharon told my mother that not reaching out for help , was robbing her friends of a  gift.

Blessings,

Kimberley