Treasure your moments...

Today, I stood in the snow at my grandmother's grave. My mother, as always, brought the sweetest arrangement of seasonal flowers and little ornaments for her mother and father. We always make a few comments about them and how nice they are... followed by comments on how disgusting it is that they will be tossed in the dumpster or resold by the jerks who take them away after a few weeks. For shame. 

I hadn't gotten a chance to change my boots from earlier in the day so I was naturally wearing inappropriate footwear for snow-trudging. We joked as the buckles kept coming unsnapped as I pulled each foot out of the mounds of snow. Foolish girl with zero grace. We cleaned off the grave stone, arranged the flowers and took our moments. It was in those moments that I had the best holiday montage play in my mind. It was of nearly every holiday that I'd spent with my grandmother for all of our forty years together. The images were so vivid. The happiness that I saw and felt was so pure. And at that point I was reminded that I hadn't really lost my grandmother. I lost the ability to make future memories with her. And, while that feels immense a lot of the time, it's always comforting to look back with such admiration on the countless times we shared together. 

I am always telling the girls that it's never about the things that we GET it's always about the time that we spend together with the people that we love. We could be doing the simplest thing together and that will be cemented in our memory forever. For example, one of my most treasured memories with my grandmother is of us watching a TV adaptation of What Ever Happened to Baby Jane on a Thanksgiving Eve. Part of the reason I think it stuck with me is because I was so happy to be allowed to stay up until it ended at 11 pm. Another reason is because Lynn Redgrave was semi-terrifying in that role. Either way, Gram and I shared a love for thrillers. I remember watching Hitchcock with her and sharing books like Rosemary's Baby. You'd never think it to look at her but she did love her a creepy tale. 

Holidays will never pass without me reminiscing. In so many ways Gram WAS our holiday. She would come to our house the night before and help prepare the meal. She always cleaned the turkey for Thanksgiving (because my mother skeeved it beyond belief). I can't tell you how many Christmas mornings I stood layering lasagna with her... I remember how she always took a little of the ricotta mixture for herself. 

It truly is the little things that make the fondest memories. It's not about getting that bike when you were ten. It's that someone ate the entire bowl of onion dip with their hands. It's about getting the giggles during Midnight Mass and possibly exchanging words with the people sitting in front of you while your mother sat mortified beside you pretending to shrink into her pocketbook. It's about anxiously awaiting the arrival of your Christmas Eve dinner guest, staring out the front window, steamy from when you'r mom drained the pasta. It's the joy on the faces of everyone you love. 

It's in those moments that we are most human. Let's have all of those moments this week, the week after that and every week following. 

Don't lose sight of what brings you joy. It's been a tough year no doubt - but even when the gatherings are small there are still big moments to cherish. 

Wishing you all the happiest of holidays. Cheers to 2021! Hoping it brings good health and joy to you all. 

(This one's for you, Gram).

With love,

Sheri 

two faded shirts ...

A few weeks ago Gregg and I purged our closets of their excess articles of clothing. You know, the pants we forgot about - with good reason, the skirts that I can't believe I ever bought in the first place, the pajamas that were always too tight or too big... those articles. We do this clean sweep two or three times each year but it is amazing  how many bags we fill for donation every single time. Where does this stuff come from???  I certainly don't buy ten garbage bags full of clothing every four months. Apparently each time we just dig a little deeper and let go a little easier. It feels great to donate so many items that will finally get to see the outside of a closet-- regardless of which decade they were purchased in.

triggering memories ...

A perfectly rainy day and a great playlist. These are the two things that have prompted the writing of this post.

I love waking up to a cloudy sky and street puddles gaining weight. As much as I loathe our well-distressed deck and its buckling, splintered planks, I enjoy being able to see the raindrops joining puddles that shouldn't be there. Savoring a second cup of coffee while I gaze out the deck slider, the trees and grass becoming more vibrantly green with every sip. The dampness and overcast sky bring along with them a feeling of laziness. A desire to be comfortable. It is during these lapses of lethargy that I reminisce of simpler times. I carefully choose a playlist that will showcase the feel of this enjoyable day.

I've always loved music. My mother taught me the chorus of many a classic Barry Manilow, Donna Summer and Air Supply hit when I was just a baby. Even the Nights are Better is one that is engraved in my memory forever. I'm sure I sang my own mixed up version but I didn't know any better nor did I care. My father contributed to my love of Motown and oddly, drug-induced tunes. A very young girl, I began making room in my heart for Smoky Robinson, The Commodores, The Four Tops, Crosby, Stills & Nash, Neil Young, Fleetwood Mac and countless others. A music bug from day one you could say.

Mazzy Star has always been one of my favorites. While in high school I gave So Tonight That I Might See quite a wearing. I still have the CD though it's long since been transferred to my iPod. I listen to frequently. It transports me to my old teenage bedroom... accessorized in blue, candles lit, cigarette burning (yuck), and pen in hand -- painting my journal with my every thought. When I read those journals now it's as though a stranger wrote them... though at the same time I remember being that stranger.

I remember learning to drive in my father's Grand Prix during my Creedence Clearwater Revival phase. To this day I can't hear Have You Ever Seen the Rain without picturing me blowing through a stop sign or taking a right-turn far too quickly.

Harry Connick Jr. brings me back to Saturday mornings spent cleaning the living room with my mom. I had the pleasure of dusting while putting on an obnoxious show for my family. Lounge-singing my way from table to table. The duster, my microphone. My mother, in stitches.

Music is like a gateway, isn't it? Such a strong connection to the old days. Even the theme song from The Golden Girls is a trigger. Memories of lazy, Saturday nights when my mom and I would be in our pajamas after a night of "calooping." We frequented Paperama -- where I would usually be gifted a new journal or stationery -- Lechemere, Apex and various other stores that no longer exist. {The Saturday night line-up at the time was 227, Amen, The Golden Girls & Empty Nest. Remember that?}

I just love looking back. In contrast, I look forward to the songs of today someday sparking the wonderful memories I'm currently making with my daughter and husband. Remember friends, each day is a memory in progress. Make sure you're making the best of them.

What songs trigger strong memories for you?