Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm upset, but it's just a tiny upset.  I ordered a stocking for my grandson quite some time ago, with his name embroidered on it.  Today I checked and they didn't have it in stock and cancelled my order without telling me.  So now it's too late to pick a different stocking and have it embroidered.  This must sound like I'm a perfectionist, but I'm not.  I just want to be informed if something goes wrong.  Yes, I can never use this company again, but somehow I doubt they care.  Will my grandson care?  At one, not hardly.  Oh, well.  Tis the time of year when little things get messed up and you wait and wait for a delivery that never comes.  A perfectly equaminious person would not have her blood pressure rise a bit.  She would see all her blessings and wonderful family and feel a rush of gratitude so overwhelming it would bring tears to her eyes.  Me, it takes a minute.  Ah, there.  All better now.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We went to a friend's Hanuakuah party last night, and I made latkes with her 95 year old mother, whom I adore.  I miss no older generation, and I get myself attached to my friends' parents and feel the loss when they die.  This lady is a survivor, and sharp and funny.  We talk old movies and this time she is watching "The Crown" so we discussed the royal family.  I'd just seen "The Darkest Hour", so I was in the mood.  I told her I remembered Princess Margaret and all her love struck turmoil vaguely, though I was a child.  And I seem to remember seeing Elizabeth's coronation, though perhaps that's incorrect.  I'm not sure we had a TV then.  For this lady, as for many, the British royalty is endless entertainment.  I'm usually stuck in the colonialism fury mode, but I see why Americans like this stuff.  It's fairy tale material.  For my friend's mother, the past is where she enjoys visiting, as it represents her heyday.  And I love her hear her first hand accounts.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

We had our grandson over yesterday and he was full of beans!  He said the words "Here" and "Look" and walked several times.  He was highly entertained by the gardeners outside the kitchen window while he was eating, and was determined to dip his french fry in the ketchup at the lunch place where we ate.  He stared at a boy of eight or nine and swiveled his head to follow when wherever he went.  He's excellent at sound effects for trucks and cars, and happy to maneuver his push cart throughout the house.  I was happily exhausted when our daughter picked him up for his second nap, and discovered this morning I was one pound lighter.  It's WORK taking care of a one year old.  His delight in everything expands our own, and there is nothing I'd rather do than be with the grandchildren.  They are my biggest holiday blessing.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I heard from our older daughter today about her plans for the holidays and she's clear and determined about what she wants to do.  Her clarity is appreciated, and I think we all are happy to hear from her and figure out when we'll spend time with her and when she will see friends or just part of the family.  Our family sometimes is too reticent about saying what we want or need.   We love each other and don't want to hurt feelings or be pushy, so we end up being confused.  It will be a quiet Christmas for us, meaning my husband and myself, and I think we need it.  We have a lot of strum and drang to process.  I'm looking forward to seeing our whole family together, briefly, and then admiring their large networks of friends and activities.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I heard an encouraging report a couple of days ago of a friend who had a stroke and was in rehab was now home with her family.  My friend and her husband had visited her and she was so happy to be home.  I was especially happy to hear this person had been able to be at her daughter's wedding for half and hour, instead of missing it entirely.  And then this morning news that the mayor of San Francisco died last night.  He was shopping with his wife at a Safeway and had a heart attack, and the hospital couldn't save him.  He was younger by seven years than my friend who had the stroke.  Randomness is the X factor in outcomes.  We never know what will happen.  Who is saved and who is lost - a mystery.  It reminds us to live every day as if it might be our last.  And to be grateful for small mercies and large miracles, when they occur.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

The opera yesterday turned out to be quite topical.  Girls of the Golden West is an ironic title, as the Gold Rush was driven by greed, misogyny and racism.  The three lead sopranos were hanged, treated badly and disillusioned in marriage.  It was no place for women.  And though the opera concentrated on the Chinese, South Americans and African Americans, the most vicious treatment was meted out to Native peoples.  I found the music and story powerful, and tears ran down my face at the end, when Josefa is hanged for defending herself against a rapist.  Blame the victim has a long tradition.  What I love about John Adams' music is the urgency, rhythm and passion.  It's music that pulls at our heartstrings.  We stayed and applauded and shouted, while many around us rushed out to get a head start on the garage line.  Their rudeness a sign of our culture.  I've got a feeling they didn't quite get the message of the story.  Or they did, and couldn't wait to get out and away from it.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Today we go to the opera.  It's a challenge roughly equivalent to climbing Mount Everest, but without the snow.  First there is the outfit thing.  Tights, a decent dress and jacket, the shoes.  Don't forget the tickets or binoculars.  Then the traffic.  One must be a Zen master to remain present and calm.  Then the parking, of which there is none.  Then hiking many blocks in said finery to get to the opera and climbing without sherpas the many slick marble stairs to get to our section.  We buy dreadful sandwiches and potato chips because we've had to leave two hours early but still there is no time to eat at a cafe.  We read the program companionably and I head to the bathroom, and then we find our seats and get up and down up and down as others, later than us, shove through, step on our feet and coats and settle themselves in.  Although it is chilly outside, the inside is muggy with human bodies, all emitting perfumes and menthol cough drops and fiddling with cell phones.  They dare not be disconnected a moment too soon.  The lights dim.  All is forgiven.  The overture soothes and lulls us into beings willing and ready to be enchanted.  I have no doubt today, as usual, we will be.