Bring out the cakes, light the candles and each make a wish
Today you are ten
Unwrap your presents and see which is your favorite
My favorite present was the day your mother was born
My second favorite was the day you two were born
Today you are ten
I will light candles and make a wish
Arlo
Piper
My bittersweet New York Times Tiny Love Story is out digitally. This link should work if you are not a subscriber. His Wife Invited Me Over
The editor, Miya Lee, emailed to say it was chosen for print in Sunday’s paper!
Thanks for reading.
Love begets love.
A couple of days ago, an email from the New York Times appeared with “Your Tiny Love Story!” in the subject line. After submitting three or four times over the last couple of years, with no reply, I got a yes. It’s not easy to capture the love story you want to capture in 100 words.
The editor asked that I get permission from my college sweetheart’s wife, since she is mentioned. His wife, Kim, and I are friends on social media. I took a deep breath, messaged her with a copy of the TLS. Within five minutes, she replied, “Absolutely, what a beautiful love story, Gosh how I miss that man.”
Kim’s generosity was one of the things I wanted to come across in the TLS. The editor saw that. Once again, I am moved by Kim’s open heart.
My heart is full, maybe bigger today. The love for my sweetheart is as strong as it was 40 years ago. Truly, he was the love of my life, one of the healthiest, fun-loving, respectful relationships I’ve had. The demise of our relationship happened after an unfortunate occurrence. That’s another story.
Once he met Kim and married her, all my friends told me how much they like Kim and that I would too. They were right.
I couldn’t be happier that he married a woman as lovely as his wife. I know he was the love of her life too. He was one of a kind. And there is plenty of love to go around.
The Tiny Love Story should be out next week. In March, Huffington Post is publishing another essay of mine. Woohoo. I’ll send links when they come out.
Thanks for reading and keep your heart open.
Me and Tayloe
I still have the watch I’m wearing.
It was a gift from him.
Brenda is how she was introduced to me three years ago when I moved into the hotel. Black Cat, Black Kitty, Rosa and I’m sure there were other names she had over the nineteen and a half years she lived. I’ve been calling her Monkey. She wondered into the hotel during a Valentine party back in 2005. Bob, a long time resident here took her in and she never left. He guesses she was around six months old at the time.
I wasn’t pet sitting when I moved in. It was Covid times. Brenda and I quickly bonded. She spent days in my room, wondering out for her meals and back in to sleep at the end of the bed at night. Bob lives on the 2nd floor, I live on the 3rd. Brenda still went down to spend time with him. He fed her and kept the litter box down there.
Once I starting pet sitting again, I missed her but knew our community was taking care of her. It sure was a sweet greeting coming home each time, having her pitter pattering behind me, prancing into my room as the door swung open. She’d stare wide eyed at me until I presented her a treat. She had me wrapped around her paw.
A year or so ago, someone moved in on the 2nd floor. She brought along her kitty. Brenda was not happy about it nor were most of us tenants. That’s when Brenda moved herself upstairs staying on the couch in the community room when I wasn’t home. We accommodated her with a new spot for her litter box and meals served to her on the 3rd floor.
Brenda comforted me after knee surgery and again through anal cancer treatment. Her usual spot was at the end of the bed never next to me, occasionally submitting to my kisses and hugs. I was touched and sure she contributed to my healing when she’d rest again my bum.
A week after my return from a three week trip Brenda wasn’t pitter pattering behind me when I came home. Another housemate noticed she was constipated. Fortunately, I had a few days off from pet sitting. After a visit to Sentinel Emergency Vet this past Thursday blood test showed her kidneys were failing, diabetes and anemia. Just days before I had seen a friend’s post about a woman who provides in-home euthanasia, Dr, Janet Alviar, with Twilight Paws. After a call to her and house mates Janet made arrangements to come the next day. The experience was tender, respectful and the best one would hope for. Monkey was able to be surrounded by several who loved her in the home she had known all her 19 1/2 years.
I held it together through it all until yesterday morning, the day after her death. Waking I reached to pet her and heard a meow. My morning tears left me rung out for the rest of the day. Last night I had the comfort of the sweetest dog I’m pet sitting. He slept on my lap, then next to me for the remainder of the night as I dreamt and woke to sweet memories with Monkey.
After a three week trip to Oregon which was filled with fun, friends, laughing, crying, blackberry picking, blueberry picking, floating the river, floating in a bird sanctuary at sunset and good food I’m back to life at the hotel. I love my friends in Oregon so much. It was such a gift to have my health and energy that hasn’t been there for years so we could play.
I was ready to get back to the hotel where I live and check on Robert, the 84 year old owner, and the eighteen year old black kitty. Both of them are unique and getting old. Brenda, the kitty, has never had vaccines or check ups. Robert doesn’t go to the doctor unless it’s an emergency. He did get the Covid vaccines. Both of them are loners but sometimes like the company of others.
It was late afternoon when I climbed the stairs to my third floor room. Brenda, aka Black Kitty or Monkey, followed behind me into my room for the treat she knew was waiting for her. Once I kissed her on the nose, I headed to the second floor room just below mine. The news was blaring so I knew Robert was home. “Who’s there?” he hollered after my knock. I peeked in saying, “Frances”. He smiled, “Boy, am I glad to see you. I missed you, not only technically but emotionally.”
After our catch up conversation, I let him know I could do his laundry and I would make his favorite oatmeal in the morning. He grinned like a kid on the way to get ice cream. I’m guessing those are the “technical” reasons he missed me.
Last summer some dear friends came through town. On my visit to Oregon, Terry, shared the photos he had taken of the hotel. He captured the essence of the hotel that’s hard to describe until you see it, maybe something out of another time and place.
( A Snippet on Running Into an Old Flame)
I love that I ran into you, that you have moved back to town.
I love our weekly outings: coffee dates, a stroll in the woods, dinner and/or a movie, our conversations.
I love that you looked me in the eye and apologized for your past dishonesty and I accepted and told you we wouldn’t be sitting together if I didn’t believe you were sincere.
I love that you brought dinner and presents over on Christmas eve.
I love our capacity to have fun together, to have meaningful conversations.
I love our shared past, the magical walks during movie perfect snowfall, our travels, slow mornings, and the time in between before it was time to cook dinner together.
I love that I have come to love my autonomy in the six years since I was with you, that I am not interested in romance or partnership.
I love that I love you and you love me.
I love our companionship.
I baked a cake, from scratch, a chocolate very moist cake. It was easy and I am quite proud. I was able to use the nasturtiums I planted to decorate it.
One of our housemates turned 29 yesterday. Her boyfriend, who caters with a local gourmet company, cooked up chicken enchiladas, made homemade chips and verde, salad, and simple veggie appetizers for our household as part of her celebration.
Another housemate had just rearranged and freshened up our community sitting area. It was all ready to be decorated with pom poms and streamers for the party.
Bob, asked me to order a cake earlier in the week. After several calls on Wednesday we were too late. Seems there were a lot of weddings this weekend, bakeries couldn’t take any more orders. Even though I can count on one hand how many cakes I’ve baked in my 63 years on the planet, I began my internet search for best chocolate cake recipe. I honed in on one, BBC easy chocolate cake recipe, gathered the ingredients, made the so easy, so delicious icing in the morning. Baked the cake around noon. Bob was looking at me with skeptical eyes as I put the very liquidity batter filled pans into the oven. The recipe stated once you add the boiling water, “the cake mixture will now be very liquid.” I was only a little worried about how they would come out.
30 minutes later, it was a very moist and perfectly formed cake. I iced it like a pro.
Dinner was delicious. I was happy to have a decent appetite.
The cake was donned with candles, lit, carryed out to the tune of, you know, “Happy Birthday to You.” I helped slice and serve a few pieces when my body suddenly told me to go lie down. There was no arguing with it. I did get to hear the rave reviews the cake was getting.
It was really a fun day, helping with the festivities. I love the people I live with.
As I laid down with my black kitty, since I was tired, the tears just came. I wish my child and I could share special moments, laugh together. I miss her, damn it.
Life is short, life is precious, hope springs eternal, forgiveness is possible, choose love not fear.
Thanks for reading.
The first day of chemo and radiation left me exhausted and a bit overwhelmed. Lots of information to take in. They sent me home with folders of information, a good thing since my eyes glazed over and my thoughts traveled as the nurses talked. I wanted my mama! After chemo/radiation I was sent to Partners in Health to be adorned with a fanny pack carrying my chemo. We will be be together 24/7 sans the weekend.
Yesterday as nausea set in, the thought of food repulsed me. I reminded myself this is hopefully for only six weeks. I can do this. The strawberry popsicle for dinner hit the spot and I got a good night’s sleep. Meantime, I’m to drink eight glasses of water a day, brush my teeth at least three times to help ward off mouth sores, eat small amounts of nutritious food, cut back on fiber. Other precautions are to wear gloves if gardening and change the water in flower vases daily as it can harbor bacteria. Stay away for sick people – all the things we do to protect a weak immune system.
This morning I popped my nausea medicine immediately and it seems to be working. I was able to get down a breakfast bar. It’s a sunny fall day here in Missoula. At 2:00 I’ll walk the few blocks to St. Pats for radiation. That will be good medicine and plan to do that daily (radiation is at 2:15 M-F) A friend is coming for a visit this evening bringing soup. Another friend is bringing some foods to have on hand, ie: sausage which sounds appealing, something I can cook, cut up and nibble on when needing some protein.
Thankfully I’m at home until mid-October, then to a peaceful cat sit for the rest of the month. I won’t be taking on any dog sits, just kitties, until I am pass the treatment.
I’ve always had compassion and respect for those going through the cancer journey but that is even greater now.
Thanks for reading and all your support. Love, Frances
Port has been implanted. It is a miracle that medicine has come this far, that I will not have to go get poked on regularly for chemo. For some reason, I was really nervous about the procedure. I’ve had a few surgeries: appendicitis, c-section, hysterectomy, knee surgery. For all those, I was out, under anesthesia.
I was awake for the port, given valium and numbed at the site (near right collarbone). The “cocktail” nurse was right by my side offering up any cocktail that might be needed. Another attending nurse, asked if I wanted music, “sure” I said. I was smiling, rocking my feet back and forth, taken back to good times with my high school/college sweetheart as Earth, Wind and Fire sang September. No telling how many times we danced to Earth, Wind and Fire even seeing them live in Memphis. My sweetheart is no longer alive. Maybe it was the valium, but I sensed he was with me, letting me know it would all be OK. I trust him, it was all fine.
Cancer has made me hyper aware of when love is present. Friends from as far back as elementary school have reached out offering support, my community of local friends check in regularly offering any help I may need, house mates take me out for a high protein meal before the pet scan. Packages of goodies show up from an out of town friend. Our house cat who prefers to sleep at the end of my bed (no snuggling) has been making a habit of laying right next to my bum.
Yesterday, a sunny fall day, I walked a few blocks to pick up my car at the hospital. From the middle of the crosswalk, I heard my name blaring out of a car. The boys I occasionally watch were waving arms, yelling, excited to see me in this random place, sharing they had been in the homecoming parade earlier. A couple of more blocks, I ran into a dear friend’s son. We hugged while he announced he would be bringing me houseplants to purify the air.
It’s another clear fall day. I think I’ll take a stroll, watch for love, feed a cat and head to Fact & Fiction at 5:00 for Second Wind reading with Chris LaTray and Mark Schoenfeld.
Chemo/radiation begin tomorrow. I’ve been told side effects may not take effect for a week. Maybe they won’t be too bad.
I have some low key cat sitting gigs lined up. They will be a welcomed distraction.
Thank you all for reading. Watch out for love out there.
The word “estrangement” came into my orbit about five years ago on a much to intimate level. For the first two years of my estrangement from family I was constantly sad, triggered and felt hopeless. I began to read everything I could get my hands on about the subject. Learning about it, talking to others who are experiencing it, has taken me out of crisis mode and into an acceptance mode.
Coming from a tight knit, yes dysfunctional Southern family, yes down there, family is everything, it was devastating when I learned of a trip my sisters were taking with my daughter, niece, and grandchildren and I was not invited. My sisters and I were still speaking at that time. Now it has been several years since we have talked. When I say devastating, I wanted to kill myself and I did attempt to.
What I have sadly learned is, suicidal thoughts are a common reaction with those who have been cut off from loved ones. Estrangements occur for a variety of reason, but also have many commonalites. Each situation is unique and has its own set of complexities.
Yesterday was the beginning of a three day summit, Moving Beyond Family Struggles put on by Family Support Resources. Yasmin Kerkez has done an amazing job, bringing many expert voices to the summit. I’ve enjoyed and learned a lot just from one day. Hearing the perspective of those who chose to estrange is enlightening.
I still hope and think repair in many situations would be the most peace giving for all involved.
If you are interested, as someone going through estrangement or you are counselor who could benefit from learning more on the subject or you are just interested, click on the link to register for free, Family Summit registration
Meantime, I will share a talk from yesterday with David Lewis, a therapist who has experienced estrangement from his adult children. He describes the shock and aftermath most accurately. 2022 MBFS Summit Conversation with David Lewis He also discusses the power of our mind and what we can change for the good, using that power. It’s worth a listen.
Thanks for reading.
Love to all,
Frances
Link from a conversation today with <a href="http://<iframe title="vimeo-player" src="https://player.vimeo.com/video/670855449?h=0fd6e4d8f1" width="640" height="360" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen>Tina Gilbertson
Fscottwrites 