Mixed Metaphors

“What matters in life is not what happens to you but what you remember and how you remember it.” ― Gabriel García Márquez

Flowers have long been used to memorialize loved ones and symbolize new beginnings, which makes them an ideal tribute to observe Memorial Day.

This Memorial Day Holiday weekend I find myself looking back, remembering loved ones now departed, friends and family traditions that have changed, and loved ones who’ve moved away from Wisconsin. Many new beginnings start with good-byes and letting go.  Memorial Day is a holiday to remember those who served and died for our country — and for my family — to remember our family members who are no longer with us in life yet remain in memory. Grateful.

Memorial Day Backstory

First, on this Memorial Day, I remember a young friend who died serving in Vietnam. He was a customer at my aunt and uncle’s diner in Racine, Wisconsin, Bill’s Lunch on Douglas Ave. where I was a waitress, grill, and prep cook while still in high school over 50 years ago. Dennis Tuinstra was a regular on most weekends when I worked. He was polite, friendly (and respectful), tipped well, and plugged quarters in the jukebox and was one of my favorite customers. He was the first young man I knew firsthand killed in Vietnam, a war I didn’t support, yet I was grateful for his service on behalf of our country. I was devastated. A thank you to family and friends who have served in the past and continue to serve today.  I extend a thank you too to Gerald Karwowski, a Racine historian for posting this picture of Dennis who died June 2, 1969.

In the mid-1980’s and 1990’s I celebrated the Memorial Day weekend and other holidays with my chosen family. We referred to ourselves as “The Orphans” for a number of reasons and referred to our potlucks, get-togethers, and annual Memorial Day Holiday weekend camping trip to Peninsula State Park in Door County as “The Orphan Holidays.”

In the last decade my bio family would get together on the Memorial Day weekend to plant flowers at our family home. It became too difficult for Mom to plant the flowers for her garden as her heart and arthritis began to take its toll on her health and mobility. Mom had for decades planted red or pink geraniums at the cemeteries too where our family was buried for Memorial Day. Many years ago, I would help. Each year, the challenge was to find the headstones, then weed and clean the granite markers, before planting flowers. Planting flowers at Mom and Dad’s home was a way we could carry on the tradition Mom began.

Mom died in 2016. One of her last wishes was that we would plant flowers in her garden so Dad would stay active. For the last few years of her life Dad’s job was to water Mom’s flowers and to weed the garden beds. Donations at her funeral purchased flowers that we planted that Memorial Day following her death in her memory. Family and friends, our chosen family members that we referred to as “The Loud Family” for our propensity to speak loudly when we gathered, planted flowers each year until this year.

Dad who is now 89-years-old is a little unsteady on his feet and uses a cane, so we decided to end our Memorial Day flower-planting tradition. Earlier this month when my brother Rick visited Racine, he laid mulch to cover the flower beds and minimize weeds. Rick put out the yard ornaments, gnomes and decorations. Sister Kelly inherited some of the ceramic flower pots for her garden since Rick organized and cleaned out the garage and Dad is in purge mode, letting go of material things to family.

For the past 11 years I’ve journaled faithfully. Before that I kept journals off and on for years, often beginning new journals when there was some kind of life change or issue, then abandoning them when I worked out whatever challenge I was facing. I’m grateful I have my recovery journals from 34 years ago when I got sober.

During holidays or anniversaries of significant events, I’m grateful that I can reread my journals. My journaling practice informs my creative work and I often look back at entries for a particular date and/or time in the past. Journals provide that record and archive. I often find that I continue to work on the same universal issues we all face: Work, finances, health, home, intimate relationships, family, friends, creative endeavors, spiritual journeys and the meaning of life. Sometimes the entries are simply mundane summaries of how and with whom I spent my day.

Since as a family we are letting go of our flower-planting tradition, it’s one more letting go and grieving on this Memorial Day. I’m grateful that I could journey back on Memorial Days from the past.

Following are excerpts from my Memorial Day journal entries for the past 10 years:

Monday, May 25, 2009, Memorial Day

I messed up again on Saturday at Mom and Dad’s. I was impatient and sarcastic with everyone. When I examine my behavior, I’m not sure what the cause is, but I’m very aware that it is unacceptable and hurtful to those I love. I called Roz to make amends for my sarcastic and continued comments to her about her lack of health care and not taking the medications she needs to stay healthy.

Perhaps I’m at the verge of some kind of change or breakthrough. Much of what I’m feeling right now is almost like wearing a new pair of shoes. I need them because the old ones are worn out and will eventually fall apart, yet the new ones are uncomfortable because they are not broken in yet. I need to break them in and be uncomfortable until I can get used to how they feel. Al-Anon here I come!

Monday, May 31, 2010, Memorial Day

Today is the last of my four-day weekend. It’s been a balance of activity and relaxation. I’ve crossed off most of the things on my “to-do” list, yet I’m not obsessing about the unfinished items, which is a pretty good indicator that I’m relaxed and the time off has been good for me. There’s been a mix of family, friends and time alone, a ritual movie matinee and Farmer’s Market trip, a much-needed haircut and color (including some age-diminishing touchup to my gray crone hairs) and some writing, both in my journal and for my writer’s group, including the haikus preceding this entry.

Friday, I spent in Racine helping plant flowers for Mom. It was one of those days that means a lot to both Mom and Dad, and when there are a few more hands, the job goes quickly. We visited over lunch and admired our work. Our family dynamics and roles played out. Cindy arrived to supervise and comment on our work but did not lift a finger to help (this did not go unnoticed by Mom and Dad). I picked up Roz from an AA meeting, but suspected she’d been drinking before the meeting, the smell of alcohol covered up by mouthwash. She was alternately quiet and then talked compulsively about her problems at work, and almost dying when she was 18. Rick and Nancy are appropriately worried parents since Taryn just got on a plane for Costa Rica. Tami was absent but would come the next day to finish planting and visit with Mom and Dad.

Monday, May 30, 2011, Memorial Day

This is the final day of my four-day weekend. I must say, more than anything I’m rested and recovering from both my tooth extraction and my second urinary tract infection. I think I was getting run down. I’ve been busy the past few weeks with work ramping up and my personal commitments. I’ve been busy with people, both family and friends and my evenings have been filled with writing, performing and social outings. Most of the day yesterday was intermittent naps, my Sunday rituals, and simply taking care of me. Today I took in a movie matinee, Bridesmaids and laughed my ass off.  I’ve been writing, catching up with friends, doing laundry, paying bills, and making a pork roast with mashed potatoes and gravy.

On Saturday, I drove to Racine to first stop at Kelly’s and help her print her wine and beer list on her blackboard wall. Kelly and I did a good job of discussing our strategy and pre-planning. We seemed to work well together and I was happy with the end result and more importantly, I think Kelly was too. We headed over to Mom and Dad’s. It was a cool welcome. Dad was in work mode and upset that we were there later than he expected us to be, though we tried calling to let them know we were on our way. I asked him to take a break and visit with us a little, but he wanted to keep working. He was continuing to be a cranky about it, and I found myself to be a little more flippant and rebellious with him than usual.

Monday, May 28, 2012, Memorial Day

It’s the last day of a three-day weekend. It certainly was exactly what I needed to slow down the pace, catch up a little in a couple of areas of my life, and reflect on what’s ahead. Once again, I’m gaining some insight into the role and function of relationships in my life, both in what I need from them, in measuring my progress in nurturing and maintaining them, and also, how others interact, reach out, and treat me in return.

Now that I’ve had some time to take my own inventory, feel my feelings and sort out some of my needs and desire for an intimate relationship, I’m much clearer now, more so then I was even a couple of weeks ago. I experienced some loneliness this weekend which was informative.  I know I will continue to need a lot of time for myself, that I will most likely experience some fear of engulfment or abandonment when I begin dating again, yet I’m confident that I’m in a much healthier place and more ready for a relationship than I ever have been.  Lastly, I left a message for Frank, inviting him for Father’s Day in Racine.  I’d like to make amends and let him know he’s loved and I’m grateful that he was in my life.

Monday, May 27, 2013, Memorial Day (and Rick’s Birthday)

It’s Memorial Day and the last day of a three-day weekend. Today, I’m gearing up for a productive day of packing. Yesterday, though I completed a couple of chores, I barely began packing; I spent most of the day procrastinating to the point of toxic, self-induced guilt. Yuck. Gratefully today, I feel charged up and ready to tackle the challenge. My goal today is to pack up the living room: bookcase, coffee and end tables, and pictures and shadow boxes on the walls in the living room, bedroom, kitchen and bath.

It’s a cloudy day, a good day to be indoors, to be introspective, and to grieve. Moving conjures up memories and things, it’s both a visual and kinesthetic experience, and for me those are receptor and feeling channels of communication. I know I will get through these next few days, but how I do it will make a difference.

Monday, May 26, 2014, Memorial Day

Yesterday’s flower-planting day was preceded by a birthday party for Jace and M’Kye. I enjoyed my time with both extended families; Tami, Ron and the kids joined us later and stayed the night. It was a good weekend. Missing of course were Roz, Cindy and Rick for different reasons. I’m considering writing about the gift of returning to a childhood home, spending time with the family, realizing the next generations of kids are growing up, and that I’m becoming an elder.

I had vivid dreams before waking this morning, which included Cindy (the ex), other women, some real, some imagined. I was spending time with someone on the verge of an affair, having an emotionally intimate relationship with someone who was partnered. As I write I’m reminded that I’ve switched roles with Cindy in real life. Interesting. I’m not sure I understand what that means for me today.

Monday, May 25, 2015, Memorial Day

I took a break from writing to read my Memorial Day entries from the last seven years.  I was surprised to read the entry from 2008, when I planted flowers with my family and had a challenging day characterized by stormy interactions with Cindy and Roz, which required amends to be made on my part. Other years included stories about writing and household chores, haircuts and cooking, dates with friends and crushes, work challenges and fears, preparing for the move here, conversations with Cindy (the ex) and introspection about my life.  Interestingly, as I wrote the grey clouds began to part and the blue sky and white clouds appeared; the promise of a beautiful day beginning.

Yesterday was a road trip with Tami and Gemma to Racine to plant flowers. The weather prediction was for rain all day, with maybe an hour window without. We took advantage of that and hit the ground running, or more precisely, digging and planted flowers right away. With Kelly, Tami, Gemma and I planting and Dad as support with Mom as the supervisor, we completed the job working in a little bit of drizzle in an hour and a half.

Monday, May 30, 2016, Memorial Day

Two days until I pick up the keys for my new place, and three days until the move. Yesterday was a challenging day emotionally for me. My heart was in Racine and I was missing not being there with the family planting flowers. I realized too yesterday that in my effort to plan a lot of time for packing and unpacking, on the front end it turns out that in addition to packing time there was an ample amount of time to procrastinate. I continue to struggle with initiating and sustaining energy to pack. In my defense however, it does seem to a degree that I’m naturally pacing myself. I’m 66 years old and not a kid anymore and I’ve learned over the years not to burn myself out. Recovery has certainly helped with that.

After a good rest, more driving dreams (control symbol), credit card imagery (finances), and more, I’m ready to work today. I posted my Memorial Day wishes and gratitude; I’ll call Dad later this morning then my day is clear to make a big dent in the remaining packing. Today I plan on packing up the living room, photos, and art on the walls. Tomorrow is the kitchen and the dresser and file cabinet in the closet. Wednesday morning before picking up the keys, I’ll pack up the bathroom and do some staging. After a walk-through on Wednesday, I’ll take measurements and photos, and make a couple of trips with plants, art, lamps and miscellaneous things. Thursday is Move Day!

Monday, May 29, 2017, Memorial Day

I was tired after my day trip to Racine. After dinner I fell soundly asleep, woke up for a brief time and returned to sleep waking up again the second day in a row before 4:00, when I got up and started my day. I had some strange and vivid dreams which I would be hard pressed to summarize. I’ve already had a nap and I’m enjoying my lazy day.

I wasn’t much help yesterday planting flowers. It was rainy, my bones have been aching the past few days because of damp and rainy weather and lack of sun, and the limitations caused by my hand post-surgery. Fortunately, Tami, Susan and the kids accomplished a lot, and Kelly stepped up and finished. I planted a few pots but that was it.

 

Tuesday, May 29, 2018, The Day After Memorial Day

The four-day holiday weekend is over. Back to work for a short work week of three days, followed by a three-day weekend. I didn’t accomplish my writing goals yesterday (and for the weekend) and I’m trying not to be hard on myself. I watched five documentaries yesterday, Dangerous Sons, plus a 4-part series on The New York Times coverage of the Trump campaign and presidency, The Fourth Estate.

The flower-planting day was a mixed bag for me since I’m arthritic, overweight, and out of shape. I also embarrassingly tipped over off the bench I was using to plant. I have a huge pool of blood on my hand just below the surface due to broken capillaries and bruises on my forearm. It was good to see Cindy and Dad and visit with Kelly and Tami. I enjoyed catching up with Quinn and Gemma too on the drive to Racine. I posted an update on FB on Cindy’s health status and another thank you to friends who contributed to her YouCaring site.

“Life is a balance of holding on and letting go.” — Rumi

Related Reading from Mixed Metaphors, Oh My!

Ethel Mae’s Garden: A Mother’s Legacy 

Home: Yesterday, Today, & Tomorrow

Journal/Journey

Holding On & Letting Go

The Impermanence of Life

The Orphan Holidays