The STUFF Sisters

Power of Transference

I have never been one for morbid sensibilities. I don’t dwell in sadness, nor do I dabble in unwholesome thoughts. I am not gloomy.

Early this morning, before the sun was up, cancer consumed the life of a friend’s father. I had time last night to hold her and sway a bit in a hug that didn’t want to end. She was moving quickly towards the silences that would come with her father’s death, but we were taking a few more minutes to talk about things that had nothing to do with the tasks at hand. Several good laughs, a few inappropriate comments, a touch of bad behavior and moments of quiet in an overly-bright waiting room.

I have small town ways about me. They have to have come from the branches above me in my family tree, as I was not raised in a small town. One of those “ways” is that I stop for funeral processions. I pull over. No matter what. When they are coming toward me and when they are on my tail. I take these moments for contemplation about the people I have lost in my life. I remember myself in dark and quiet limos. I remember deep sadness and overwhelming relief. I give these moments time, because it’s what I have to give. Time. What can my hurry possibly be that I can’t stop to honor a family in pain? It’s minutes, really. Blinks of an eye.

So, this morning, I took a moment and spent time looking for pictures of my father. He is living with cancer and doing a bang-up job at it. It’s hard, and it will be his forever. My friend’s father has just ended a very short dance with a wicked disease.

I ache for my friend. I can never feel her pain, but, through the power of transference, I can weep for her loss and be there when the smiles return.

“Hold ’em tight,” I said to myself and others this morning. “Time is fleeting.”

p.s. Here are photos of my Dad and members of my family over the past year. Some of these I have used in previous blogs, and some I have not.

family portrait 2011 — Thanksgiving 2011

Spasmodic Claustrophobia

Years ago I saw a photograph of the Golden Gate Bridge on either its birthday or maybe the day of a marathon. Don’t know. Can’t remember.

What I do remember is that I was overcome with a touch of claustrophobia. Just sitting there holding the magazine. The photo was majestic and magnificent, but I felt like I was the tiny person in the center of the bridge. Needing help possibly. Panicking maybe.

Today I was waiting for my primary care doctor to enter the not-too-big-not-too-small room for my physical. I waited a while longer than I wanted, but I was holding in there because he is a wonderful doctor and we seem to be on the same wavelength in regards to my health. Besides, I’m not a quitter.

Then, all of a sudden – possibly at minute 27 of the waiting – I needed to get out of the little room. Or at least open the door a wee bit and listen to the hall noise more clearly. The sound of my own increasing heart rate was deafening and not really all that interesting.

So I did just that. I popped the hatch.

I may not be able to control my self-diagnosed “spasmodic claustrophobia” but that crack in the door did more than let in new air. It released my mind.

And the sweet man even knocked before he entered. Dang. I can pick ’em.

p.s. This is not the photo from my memory. But it is darn close.

p.p.s I’ve never been to California. The Golden Gate Bridge must be a sight to behold.

Instagram #5 – New York City

New York City is different than any of the other places I travel. It has a hum…

I have been back from New York for close to 10 days. The trip was filled with inspiration. New York City is different than any of the other places I travel. It has a hum that keeps you energized for long days and short nights. I am enthralled with the diversity and cultural mix. I love my home town of Kansas City. I think it is a remarkable city, but sadly we still don’t offer the blend of cultures that you find in some other great American cities. Most notably, The Big Apple.

This is another batch of images I took with Instagram. I was reviewing the other blogs and I like the collection so far. But, I do feel now that I could have – and should have – taken more photos.

I would enjoy hearing which images you liked, didn’t like or found interesting.

PS. If you want to know where or what any image is, just drop me a comment.

Some other New York images blogs by Casey Simmons.

Instagram #4 – New York City

Tonight we headed down to SoHo for dinner and a long post-dinner stroll. I adore New York City at night…

Tonight we headed down to SoHo for dinner and a long post-dinner stroll. I adore New York City at night. You could roam the streets for hours and hours on end. The August weather this year is mild and soft. There was almost a chill in the air as we walked. I did not want the night to end. These images were taken during our wandering.

: Bike tire in a tree in SoHo, New York – 2012

Instagram #2

I wrote recently that I am pretty smitten with Instagram. Here is my second Instagram photo blog. These images are from our summer vacation to the beach in Florida. Sorry it took a while. My life kind of ran amok recently.

Leavings

In the deeply gathering dusk a few nights ago, I stood in a small group of women and discussed the concepts of leaving. Of children leaving home for college. Of friends and their families leaving for different cities.

Three years ago I began publicly letting slip that I do not use the word goodbye. Remarkably, a woman in this little group admitted that she greatly disliked the word goodbye. We ran around and around the ways she doesn’t use it and in the end we were all laughing quite brightly.

I still don’t use the word. I wrote about this deeply held issue in a blog in July of 2009. It still stands today. Click here to read more.

Heart of a Champion

Today we learned that one of our amazing artists – Lori Hale – passed.

Today we learned that one of our amazing artists – Lori Hale – passed. She battled cancer with the heart of a champion. She was inspiring to us all. We were so deeply blessed to be chosen to share her creative spirit, ideas, joy and work with the world. We will miss Lori. We will miss her little company Blue Raven. We will miss her art.

Art is life.

Life is art.

In Passing

Years ago I went to a funeral. The gentleman we were celebrating that day was someone I didn’t really know very well, and not too personally.

Years ago I went to a funeral. The gentleman we were celebrating that day was someone I didn’t really know very well, and not too personally. He was the assistant to a charitable organization I was just becoming involved with. His passing took few by surprise, but it was tragic, as most deaths are.

What happened the day of the funeral that I will always remember was that I made a new friend. I knew few people in attendance but decided to sit next to a man who was as new to the same organization as I was. He was – and still is – a very polite, well dressed, caring man. He is able to stand quietly and think about the answer to a question that is posed in a hurried frenzy.

I sat down next to him. We exchanged brief hellos and polite niceties. Within a few minutes, my stomach began to growl. Not the quiet kind that you hear inside your own ear. Nope. The kind that has a crescendo that ends in a little “ping”. I was mortified. Here I was sitting next to a guy I barely knew, and I was making strange noises. I murmured an excuse, and he demurely smiled.

Then the most incredible thing happened. His stomach answered. It was like a mating call of the hungry. We smiled at each other with a bit more vigor, and then we let the funeral take hold of us.

There were tears. Many. I hadn’t thought I would cry quite so much for a person I barely knew, and I hadn’t packed tissues. My empty and tear-soaked hands soon held the pressed cotton handkerchief that he had gently put in my view for use. Our friendship has grown in the days that have passed since then.

This all took place almost 13 years ago. My friend and I have gone on to serve on two charitable boards together. We have had experiences inside those organizations that have left us laughing hilariously. Those same places have found us up against challenges that have changed us. In all the right ways.

Today he called to tell me a close friend had passed. A friend that had suffered long enough. He couldn’t get the words out. Tears and words were catching in my throat, and all I could ask him was if he was driving, because I wanted him to pull over. We were both a little bit over the moon in sadness. He was closer to our friend on a personal level. We had made a promise to each other to keep each other posted on any and all news about our friend.

This day found him making the rounds of the most difficult calls on the planet. He was telling the world that it was going to be a little bit darker for a while. That sadness and grief was going to consume us all, and then we would be better.

I know that, when I attend the remembrance for our mutual friend this week, we will find each other. Should he need it, I’ll have an extra cotton hanky in my handbag. I just hope we both remember to eat.

Goodbye Sweet Emma

Last night we said goodbye to sweet Emma. She passed peacefully surrounded by family with her head on my lap and my daughter’s arms wrapped around her. The room was full of our loving family. I am heartbroken today. So is my daughter.