Thursday, September 25, 2014


I wrote this post back in the spring..somehow it never got posted. Nothing has changed.

They say that in time, in time the hollow space will become smaller.

Yesterday I went out to do a few errands; stuff that could have waited, but I needed to drive with the windows down. There is a convertible in my future, no doubt a used POS but still, a rag top.

I was out for a while, stopped here, there, missed an exit and wandered around for a while, as always, but after a few hours I  began to feel like I had forgotten something, that something was missing.

Then I realized that it was the phone call. No call from Jimmy checking up on me, making sure that I was OK, asking me to pick something up - really it was just an excuse to hear each others voices, these phone calls. 

My friends made fun of me sometimes, but the best friends just accepted that no matter where I went or what I was doing, Jimmy would be along for the ride. I missed him awful yesterday and had to sit a while and  cry  and remind and convince myself that he was with me heart and soul. I am beginning to fully accept crazy as a valid state of mind.

Sunday, September 14, 2014

Hooked On A Feeling

 I heard the soundtrack for this before I saw the movie and Colin was right - Jimmy had a direct hand in picking the music!

The first house we lived in was on Baker Street in Mohegan Lake, NY. A very seedy little converted summer cottage on a street with more of the same. We didn't have much, but we had some bitchin' big speakers and rocked them day and night.

Every payday, Jim would go to the record store and bring home four or five unlikely items from the dollar bin. I clearly remember him flicking the shrink wrap off  of "Blue Swede" and putting it on the turn table.

When the "Ooga-chaka-ooga-chaka" came booming out of the speakers we cranked it up high and bounced around the living room until the record skipped and the neighbor across the street started screaming that she was going to call the police. As there was no contraband nor rebels in the crawlspace that week,  we opened the windows and played it again only louder.

He also bought an album called "The Big Whakoo" including "Love is the Sweetest Amnesty", an acapella ballad so beautiful I wanted it for a wedding song, but we didn't have that kind of wedding.  That same day also brought us Ian Matthew's "Tigers Will Survive". These  last two were favorites for both of us all these years.  It was a very good Friday in the dollar bin and we only got a friendly warning.

And now the "Awesome Mix" from the Guardians of the Galaxy is just making my heart smile, all of that music taking me back in time.

Love is the sweetest amnesty
Floats like a cloud between the sky and sea
I'll give it to you
Could you please give it to me
Now we can talk,now we can see
If we disagree we  do it honestly
Let our lovin' be the sweetest amnesty
Love is the sweetest amnesty
Given by the power that let us be
I'll give it to you
Could you please give it to me, 'cause I need you
Now we can talk, now we can see
If we disagree, we can do it honestly
Let our lovin' be the sweetest amnesty
Between you and me
There's bound to be love and rejection
Our spirits dressed in mystery
Speak solely through affection
Love is the sweetest amnesty
Floats like a cloud between the sky and sea
I'll give it to you
Could you please give it to me
We can talk, we can see
If we disagree, we can do it honestly
Let our lovin' be the sweetest amnesty
Let our lovin' be the sweetest amnesty
The sweetest amnesty
The sweetest amnesty

Thursday, September 11, 2014


 I wonder how many New Yorkers have had to let all their fond memories of the Twin Towers fade away in the face of the devastation and sorrow of  9-11?

What a small thing our personal memories are. And yet, they remain. I am sure  there were a lot of romantic dinners, proposals, maybe even wedding receptions held at Windows on the World   over the years.  It  had just opened when our romance began.

Jimmy had a worker's compensation hearing at the WTC and we spent the day together in the city. A native New Yorker,  tall buildings were  no novelty to him. Even these,  but this country girl was impressed.

We were standing at a bank of of windows looking out into the hazy summer view when I noticed out of the corner of my eye that the other tower was coming in and then out of my line of sight. It took a moment to register that I was seeing that both towers actually moved a good bit from side to side with the winds.

When I figured out what I was seeing I almost jumped out of my skin and was queasy. Jimmy laughed and pulled me away from the windows and said
"Just breathe."  We had already been on two dates where he learned about my propensity for throwing up- the Teacup ride at Playland and again at a carnival when the operator reversed the Ferris wheel. He was so sweet about it.

He was right. I splashed water on my face from a drinking fountain, felt better and we headed for the elevators, but he had another idea. He pulled me into one of the local service elevators and hit the stop button. We never even thought about whether there were cameras in the elevators - these were innocent times and we were in love.

Tuesday, September 9, 2014

the Work

I  got a spiritual kick in the pants from my darling this morning.

"It's all about the work."

I was scurrying around doing the last minute things to make ready for a gallery hanging. Three fiber art pieces that I finished over a year ago are getting strung up as I write this.

That out of the way,  I thought I deserved clean sheets and flipped the mattress and down behind the bed, found another stack of anniversary and birthday cards from Jim, some with notes inside. All of Hallmark's best efforts were rarely enough for Jimmy.

So, I get it babe. As much as he was all about his work, there was balance. Time for family and fun, too.

I'm thinking he wants me to push myself to find the time to do it all and not let go of making visual art. At the very least, I'm going to make a greater effort to see that pieces already done get out of storage and onto some walls somewhere.
And I'll  keep pushing on with the book, even as I step up to being Nana for Charlie. I can hold a baby in one arm and a pen in the other.

Stranger Angels are coming into our life at every turn and I know who is sending them our way.

Thank you darling.

I could almost quote him "It ain't about who or what you are. It's about what you make or do for others that matters."

Thursday, September 4, 2014

pool season

Pool season is almost over here. I swim almost every day and know that my pleasure is his.

Tuesday, September 2, 2014


Those beautiful brown eyes hold true. (Since I first posted this, Charlies eyes have begun to drift toward blue but the jury is still out. He has also starting to reveal his grampa's fabulous dimples.)