so true

"It’s the oldest story in the world. One day, you’re 17 and you’re planning for someday. And then quietly, without you’re ever really noticing, someday is today. And then someday is yesterday. And this is your life."

— Nathan Scott

It took me awhile to find this quote, which I had saved for the right time.  Today it seemed very apt.

My 17 year old niece spent some time with us last night.  We had supper and listened to stories of her busy life, of school and hockey practices and lots about the Justin Bieber concert.  We saw pictures of her friend who was lucky enough to have made eye contact with the guy, we heard about the evening and the fun that was had, we heard about the boys that were at the concert and whose shoulders she sat on.  We saw pictures of the boys (whose shoulders she sat on) and heard about the decisions that she has to make.

After she had left I came through to my computer and caught up with some emails.  In my inbox was the treat of a wonderful email from a friend's daughter.  10 years older than Amy and living and working overseas, full of love and sunshine and looking forward to her visit home at the end of the month.  10 years older, somewhat more worldly and wiser, with the world at her feet but also with decisions to make.

It made me think back to when I was 17 how the decisions I made then affected my life, when I was 27 I was close to having my third son and how my decisions at 17 had already influenced my life.  I realised then that perhaps I was a bit dismissive and unconcerned about the "crisis" in the life of a 17 year old and how the decisions she makes now can impact her life.

These decisions whether you are 17 or 27 will be made and it is only when you look back do you realise how that one decision could have changed the whole path of your life.  Today I look back and that decision at 17 was probably the best decision of my life because it made my life what it is today.  

No regrets. This is my life.  

Thanks for that Nathan Scott (whoever you are).

PS.  Had to look it up.  It is a quote from "One Tree Hill" - don't know the show but he is the hunky lead.  Nice words anyway.

you say tomatoes, i say tomatoes

Dalene and I shared a hysterical couple of minutes on BBM last night.  I got the following message:-

Dalene:  Hell (smiley face) was wondering if you want to take Tom's ticket for Justin Bieber on Wednesday night?

Me (being diplomatic, her husband is away for the week but she knows about me and my music): Didn't you already ask Kathy, she seemed very keen

Dalene:  I have another.... A mom at school booked online when Amy could not get her ticket at Computicket, so we ended up with two lots and I still have one extra.

Me:  You could probably sell it for thousands outside the ground.  Me at Justin Bieber would be like me walking your daschunds (too emboeressing)

Dalene:  (hundreds of smiley faces) heeheheheeeehee...I just took a bet with Kathy and we wanted to see your priceless reply.  I said to her that you like him as much as you like my DOGS.  Always said we should go on "Check your Mate" ... ha ha.  Please come, we could have fun.

Me:  Find someone else, I will babysit your dogs. xxx

We would do very well on a "Check your Mate" quizz and, if I must say so myself, we are brilliant at 30 Seconds.  Mainly because I have very strong likes and dislikes so it is a matter of her saying "The pop star you dislike more than Elvis" "Michael Jackson".  "The movie we saw when you wore that new long grey coat" "Steel Magnolias".  "That awful, croaky, depressive singer with the ugly face that you love and that you played in the car all the way from Cape Town to Knysna" "Leonard Cohen".  We can't go wrong.  You should challenge us sometime.  The only way you can beat us is if you feed us too much wine and we start saying things like "It rhymes with shoot cake".  So maybe it is not so difficult.

So, if we are so close and know each other so well why do we have exactly the opposite taste in music (and dogs).  Really weird.  Dalene loved Donny Osmond and David Cassidy.  She loved the musicals and played the Sound of Music and Jesus Christ Superstar for years (she still watches the Sound of Music).  She knows all the music from the Phantom and plays Les Miserables in her car.  She loved the Bee Gees, while I listened to Bread.  She went for the Carpenters while I loved Bob Dylan. 

OK she does have teenage girls but she now listens to Lady Gaga, Justin Bieber and Rihana.  She is even off to the concert tomorrow night.

Anyone looking for a ticket?

My new favourite song - Could you get further from Bieber?

thoughtful saturday...

From the standpoint of eternity, there is hardly any difference between a “long” and a “short” life. Therefore, it’s not whether one’s life is long or short, but how one lives that is important. It is what we accomplish, the degree to which we develop our state of life, the number of people we help become happy—that is what matters.

Buddist Inspiration for Daily Living  -  Daisaku  Ikeda

I attended a memorial service of a friend of Friday evening.  I listened to his sister and then his friends pay very honest tributes to this kind and humble man, I looked around at all the familiar faces of so many friends that I had not seen, some of them for many years and for the hour or two that I was there, although ultimately a sad occasion, it was wonderful to re-connect with the past and so many friends and share great memories and stories.

Yesterday I spent a quiet day at home, busy with some work and my thoughts.  I was also feeling so disappointed with myself that I had not made the effort to get to see him before he died.  I knew he was in hospital and I had driven past the hospital a couple of times the previous week.  He was constantly in my thoughts but somehow I did not have the courage to go in on my own.  It was also a bit awkward to show up to see someone now ill, who you had not really made the effort to see while he was well.

I was thinking too about all the friends I had chatted to on Friday evening, some just brief "How are you? Where are your children? Any grandchildren?" kind of conversations and then two, also brief conversations with two "friends" that I do not even know that well.  The one, asked me how my sons were coping after the death of their father nearly two years ago.  He showed such amazing insight and caring and, if I could have I would have loved to have carried on chatting to him for much longer. The other conversation, as I was walking out of the door, was with a man who had recently lost his wife.  I had done a course with his wife many years ago and we always shared a laugh about the course and about being the same personality type numbers.  She was a very special lady.  I asked him how he was coping and, in his usual light hearted way, told me how the weeks while working were fine but how lonely his weekends were. He went on to tell me how difficult mealtimes are and the little things we take for granted, of how he and his wife enjoyed sharing a bowl of food together and the ritual of their meals together.  I gave him a hug and felt sad that he, now surrounded by all these "old friends", was having to go home alone and face the weekend.  It is pretty special when in a couple of minutes you can chat to two people, share your feelings and open up to just because you are on a common ground.

I have made many friends and many have played a big part in my life at a particular time, then circumstances change, people move on and new friends come into our lives.  Fortunately, there are those friends that remain constant and who we do spend more time with.  However, it is at a memorial like the one on Friday that you realise that there are so many ties that bind us and that the death of one friend, who was the initial starting point in so many friendships and relationships, a man who brought so many together and kept people connected, is no longer with us and I will never share a laugh, a chat and a drink on the side of the rugby field with him again.  The other sad thought was that the next time we get together will probably be at the next memorial.  And that is pretty sad.

Life is short, life is full, life is good...

"Enough, Jennifer", she said to her self in her sensible voice.

one of those days...

Today, for me, was of those days when you are more thoughtful than other days.  Not thoughtful in the sense of being kind and good to others but thoughtful because you spend time with your own thoughts and become quite introspective, even although you are not alone.  It has been an "at home" May day.  Besides having had a long walk early this morning, we have spent the rest of the day at home.  At home moving furniture around and finding the right spot for the couple of new items we have inherited.  

I was lucky enough this morning to have two surprise visits from two very special girls in my life. We drank tea and chatted and ate hot cross buns (Aren't you glad they carry on making hot cross buns long after Easter is over and your eggs have been eaten?  Weird, but good).

I have been busy finding new places for books, glasses, photograph frames and vases. I have had Michael help me move furniture from our passage into the entrance hall and then, after an hour or so, back to the passage again.  I have been hanging new pictures in new places and then re-hanging old pictures in the old places.  I have been reading notes and letters that Helen had in her writing desk.  I have found sweet notes she had written to herself and there are special cards that she wanted to keep (How can I now throw them away?)

Michael has been busy too.  He has been going through papers and trying very hard to decide which of his 1 000 's of copies of Golf Digest he can send to recycling (I think he finally decided on about 16 copies and all the Compleat Golfer and Financial Mail magazines (another 12)).  He too has been reading and sorting through his mother's papers and accounts.  We have worked quietly but together.  Things are coming together.

About an hour ago I moved to the study for the first time to check emails and see if I had missed out on anything dramatic happening in cyberspace while I had been in my own space today.  I checked a couple of my favourite sites and, because I have felt like a bit of a voyeur today, these attracted my attention:-  

Teddy Roosevelt’s diary entry from the day his wife died. He never spoke of her death again. How beautiful and romantic and sad and I now want to know more.  The ultimate love letter.

Then, probably because of my mood, I came across this blog and a love letter from 1932.  This paragraph is awesome:-

"I say this is a wild dream—but it is this dream I want to realize. Life and literature combined, love the dynamo, you with your chameleon’s soul giving me a thousand loves, being anchored always in no matter what storm, home wherever we are. In the mornings, continuing where we left off. Resurrection after resurrection. You asserting yourself, getting the rich varied life you desire; and the more you assert yourself the more you want me, need me. Your voice getting hoarser, deeper, your eyes blacker, your blood thicker, your body fuller. A voluptuous servility and tyrannical necessity. More cruel now than before—consciously, wilfully cruel. The insatiable delight of experience."

This is from a letter that the American novelist Henry Miller wrote to his lover Anais Nin.

Read more of this love story here.  I now have to watch Henry and June all over again.

"...your eyes blacker, your blood thicker..."

My aching nerves.  Time for sleep.