Unfinished

Since last Fall, six of our relatives have died: brother, sisters-in-law, cousins, aunt. These deaths plus my own aging get me thinking scary thoughts about my own mortality. And as I focus on this, I realize that it’s not only death I fear, but maybe even more all that I leave undone. A constant refrain across my life: never enough time to get it all done the way it "should" be. And instead of working on my unfinished business, I give in to distractions or obsessions that give some semblance of familiar comfort: like cookies and reading mystery novels compulsively. After all, then I don’t have to face the fact that I will never be perfect and never be finished. It’s a life long struggle, a life long issue.

My reflections brought back a memory from long ago. My grandmother had told me the story of how my Mom had gotten a perfect report card in fifth grade: 100% in every subject, 100% in average. Although I had gotten my share of 99%’s, I’d never achieved perfection and I was definitely aiming for it. So here I was in fifth grade, taking a test – a minor subject at that – taking my time to make it absolute perfection. When my teacher announced: "Five minutes left". I panicked. I wasn’t nearly finished. Flashes of shattered dreams raced through my head. Not only would I not get the perfect report card, I might fail! I was audibly panting; kids turned to look at me. And I scribbled desperate answers all over the page.

I don’t remember the outcome of that episode; I am sure my teacher made some concessions. But the memory of all this inspired a poem. Here it is.

Unfinished



Fantasy filled fifth grade
dreams – my quixotic quest
to be the best of all -
forever forgotten
eternally lost.



Terror still stalks
the memory of
no time left to score
the perfect percent
as panic racked breath
screeches its zig-zag
path across the page
of the unfinished test.



So deeply rutted still
in well worn ways
which never worked
the fuzzy feel
of friendly fear
and lazy anger.
So stuck in not to
be I cannot see
the treasure that is me.


© E.M. Ramos 7/30/2009

A Gift from all the rain

We have had lots of rain this summer. I am a true believer in the "every cloud has a silver lining" theory. Both in nature and in life. Last week as I sat outside the Botanical Gardens café, under their awning, a summer storm rose up out of what had been a sunny sky a few moments before. And I received the gift of a poem.

Summer Storm



I love to watch a summer storm
- from a safe dry space, of course -
Pounding the pavement.
Creating instant rivers.
Filling the awning above
me to drip-right-throughness.



In just a blink the sun
regains control. Its steamy
breath sends will-‘o-the-wisps
slithering skyward.
Brooding clouds evaporate.
Rain-made rivers disappear.
The path is dry and I can
walk embraced by cool breezes,
inhaling grassy air,
holding the storm in my heart.


© E.M. Ramos 7/9/2009

Lessons I've Learned

In one of her blogs last week, my daughter posed an interesting quiz on learning and self-education and challenged her readers to take the quiz themselves.

What is a memory you have of learning with your Mom?

My Mom took a very active role in our education. She "heard" our lessons every night. My memory improved dramatically under my Mom’s tutelage because if we did not recite the catechism or history answers back to her "perfectly", we were sent off to study "until you know it!" My sister can attest to many homework papers that were torn up because she had crossed out or erased. OK in fairness, a few times she had erased holes in the paper. Maybe my success in school was a direct result of Mom’s encouragement, because she would not settle for less. She taught me to always strive to do my best.

I also learned many other life lessons from her. Like how to be a savvy shopper, hunting out bargains way before it became stylish. I will never forget the trip in-between dress racks to a remote corner in Bloomies to find a lone hidden rack of sales items. Now in those days, it was pretty awesome for us to find something affordable in Bloomingdale’s but Mom managed to find bargains in the classiest places. Just to negotiate her way around that store was admirable to me, who, like many others, finds it a major challenge just to find the exit out of Bloomies!

What is a memory you have of learning with your Dad?

On the meandering car vacations, which brought American history and geography alive for me, my Dad taught me a love of traveling, visiting new places and reading maps! I was not geographically challenged, as many Americans are today, because I had personally visited capitals of states or spent many car hours searching for them on road maps.

Dad also taught me to appreciate and reverence nature. He would point out interesting cloud formations and instruct me to take pictures out of the car window as we traveled the highways to some vacation destination. He never failed to point out sunsets, whether on a fishing expedition upstate or looking out the window from his easy chair. We spent many quiet hours in row boats on lakes, waiting for fish to bite. Now I realize I was learning to observe nature; in a way it was my first lesson in meditation. And it felt so peaceful.

What kind of education do you think you gave yourself?

Like my daughter, I loved to draw when I was a kid. It certainly spurred a lifelong love for art. In school, I did not enjoy history – it seemed to be all about dates and wars. Ho Hum. So after I graduated from college, I took on a project to find out about everyday life in other times. I was especially interested in medieval times and Barbara Tuchman’s classic "A Distant Mirror" got me started. I discovered that history was very interesting indeed and found a different perspective. I especially enjoyed the book by Bonnie S. Anderson and Judith P. Zinsser, two Columbia University professors. "A History of Their Own" approached history from a woman’s point of view, not chronologically but categorically: Women of the Fields, Women of the Churches, Women of the Castles and Manors, etc. I learned that women did yield power even way back when and my love for history was born. As a result, I have a sizable collection of history books, especially Medieval History focusing on everyday life. Any one can get an education by reading. Just ask my granddaughter, Marina!

America the Beautiful

This Independence Day I feel very grateful for being an American. I am so proud of my beautiful country and so grateful that I have seen so much of it. I have fond memories of childhood vacations when my Dad piled the kids in the car and took us on adventures in upstate New York, to Pennsylvania, to Florida and once to Kentucky. I learned so much about the history and geography of America on those travels.

Later I spent vacations in the majestic Adirondacks, meditated on the Hudson and thrilled to the sounds and sights of my hometown, New York City. I know every inch of the Bronx Botanical Gardens and the Bronx Zoo and have gotten lost too many times in magnificent Central Park. My daughter and I traveled the Pacific Coast Highway from San Francisco to San Diego, explored the back roads of California, discovering a new wonder around every bend: Josiah Tree, Yosemite, Mt. Whitney. We stopped our car in Death Valley and got out to experience the sound of silence; it was also on a back road in Death Valley that I witnessed a parade of tarantulas.

Lisa and I once drove up and down the Atlantic coast to the Everglades, seeing the aftermath of Hurricane Andrew, driving through rice paddies in the Carolinas, and watching the moon rise over the ocean from the N.C. shore. In Maine I tasted my first lobster, laughed at puffins flying around their little island near Acadia National Park, and saw a moose along the road.



How blessed I am to have seen so much of this beautiful land! And there’s so much more to see!

My De Mello Retreat: The Statue

Two weeks ago I spent a week at Mariandale Retreat Center on a retreat based on the writings of Anthony De Mello, a Jesuit from India. His books – Sadhana, The Song of the Bird, Awareness – contain wisdom from Eastern religions as well as Christianity and exercises that are a great help in self-understanding and in meditation. I am amazed at how quickly I seem to come down to earth after a retreat, diving right back into busyness and "too much to do". Yet I am so grateful for having had the "time apart" to refresh body and spirit.

Today I share my favorite "fantasy" exercise from the retreat. It’s called "The Statue". There is a statue of you in a museum. Which museum? Where in the museum is your statue? How big is it? What’s it made of? Title? You enter the museum and find your statue. You converse with it. Is there something you want to tell it? Then you are in the statue and hear people’s comments as they look at it; your friends stop by and you hear what they say. Then Jesus comes. He knows you are really in the statue. What does He say?

My statue is in the Met. In the rooftop garden overlooking Central Park. It’s a marble statue, bigger than life, of me walking. The wind is tossing my hair gently, my arms swing out, my trusty Le Sportsac around my neck. Clad in jeans, T-shirt and walking shoes. The caption is "She Who Loved to Go Out and Walk".

I find this statue of me easily. I love this statue. It’s when I am happiest, feel free. Walking, saying little cheers to myself, meditating, focusing. Walking to stay fit, lose weight, be healthy. The only exercise I ever enjoyed. And it had to be out of doors. I always want to be OUT. Even as a child, I would gaze through the kitchen window to look at the back yard and my grandfather’s garden. So this is the perfect location for my statue, atop the Met overlooking Central Park, where I began my walking in earnest, where I was gifted with poems and marvelous insights. No wonder the expression on my statue face is of quiet joy. I never realized before how happy this combination of nature and walking makes me. It’s where I’ve experienced some of my most profound spiritual gifts.

Now I jump into the statue. Passersby wonder what the silly pocketbook is doing there. Well I do have my baggage, don’t I? I am still "attached". I know it. Not ready to "let go" of everything yet. But someday, maybe it will chip off. The people notice the statue is of an older woman. Wouldn’t a younger person be more aesthetically pleasing? But this is not about external beauty. This is ME when I finally came to discover the most important lessons in life – the decade of my 50’s. When I was truly blessed in the midst of suffering and pain.

Now my friends pass by. Especially my Met Club. Well she sure belongs here, they say. They know me. They know this statue puts it all together: my love of nature, art , walking and my "stuff" (in the Le Sportsac). Yep, they say, the sculptor really captured Eleanor.

Enough for today. Maybe I will share more of my retreat next time.

Grandma's Story - Chapter 5, Part 2

Chapter 5, Part 2


My sister and I had favorite TV shows. There was Serial Theater, which consisted of episodes of old movie serials, a different one each day. Flash Gordon was a sci-fi space serial; Tim Tyler’s Luck took place in a jungle, with the Jungle Cruiser; Gene Autry combined westerns, mystery and sci-fi; and a serial about the navy at war with a nurse named Mercedes. We also watched lots of Westerns on early TV: we liked Crash, Dusty and Alibi, and Hopalong Cassidy. Channel 13 in those days was a kid’s channel, all old cartoons and westerns from the movies. After school we watched original made-for-TV programs like Howdy Doody with Clarabel the Clown, a nasty creature, and Buffalo Bob – I was envious of the kids who got to sit in the "Peanut Gallery" and be on the show. Kukla, Fran and Ollie, a puppet show, was a favorite. My friends and I liked a kids game show called "Sense or Nonsense" and we desperately wanted to be contestants. Later, our favorites were the space themed shows like Tom Corbett Space Cadet and especially Captain Video, with the video ranger and the alien Spartak. These were very low tech indeed compared to Star Wars and Star Trek. But they were great fun!



My Grandpa also had his favorite shows but no television set; he and Grandma lived across the street from our church, only a block away. He would come to our house to watch the Lone Ranger and the Groucho Marx quiz show "You Bet Your Life". Only he had listened to the Groucho Marx show on the radio the day before and tell us the answers and the jokes.



Of course, we did many things – even 50 or 60 years ago – that you and your friends still do today. Like the movies. On Saturday mornings, the Parthenon Theater was turned over to kids: cartoons, serials and double features. Too bad you couldn’t hear a thing with all the noise and screaming. I liked to go to the movies with my Mom on Thursday nights, the night they gave away free dishes. In those days there were always two films, a double feature, with newsreels and cartoons in between and of course, coming attractions. My Mom and I always got there late, in the middle of a picture. We’d see the second half, the next movie and then stay until Mom announced "This is where we came in." Knowing how the movie ended did not spoil the fun for me.



We may not have had video games or computer games, but we had lots of board games, some that you still play like Clue and Scrabble . When I was 11 years old, we spent the summer at Rockaway Beach. My summer friends and I played one Monopoly game that lasted the whole summer. Mainly because Joey Hannigan, who was always winning, would throw us money when we went bankrupt. We also loved to play cards and the games were ones you know: Old Maid, Go Fish, Rummy, War and Knuckles- if you lost at Knuckles, you got "knucks" on your knuckles with the edge of the card deck. Ouch!

Grandma's Story - Chapter 5 - for Chase

Last Wednesday was my the birthday of my first grandson, Chase. He turned 13 and I look forward to spending time with him today at the Mall, hunting for his birthday gift and eating lunch at one of the cafes. Things we like to do together. This year I wrote a chapter of Grandma's Story dedicated to Chase.

CHAPTER 5

What Did You Do for Fun?
For Chase

Today young people have so much to keep them entertained – like your SPORE game on the computer, television and DVD’s. Some of your friends probably have I-pods and Wii’s and other techy play things I haven’t even heard of. So maybe you wonder what kids did for fun way back when Grandma was a kid.

There were no computers in those days. Not even TV, at first. I remember the first time I even heard the word "television". It was at the dinner table and someone mentioned that a kid in the hospital had gotten a television set. I wondered what is that? and imagined it was like an erector set. The first time I watched TV was at my cousin’s house; all of the kids gathered around this little television set with a tiny screen to watch a cartoon show.

Meanwhile, my family listened to the radio. We liked Jack Benny, Amos n’ Andy, Fibber Magee and Molly, and Fred Allen – all comedy shows. We listened to the "Inner Sanctum", a scary program that opened with a squeaky door. And there were radio shows just for kids. I would imagine what the characters on those shows looked like. Once my Mom took us to see the radio show being broadcast; we were in the audience. How surprised I was to discover that the radio personalities looked nothing like I had imagined.

We got a television set when I was 7 or 8 years old. It was a big tube, with lots of smaller tubes, in a wooden square box. My father would try to fix it by fiddling with the tubes in the back, while I told him if the picture had stopped jumping or if it was in focus. When that didn’t work, he gave it a whack on its side and very often that whack did the trick. Television in those days was a test of patience. Many were the days that the studios’ signal went out and we would just sit in front of the set, staring at a test pattern. Which was kind of like a target that didn’t do anything.

To be continued .....

Marina, Mom and May

Yesterday was my granddaughter’s 16th birthday. And Marina is the epitome of Sweet Sixteen! Our whole family is grateful for the blessing of this beautiful young woman. But I’d like to talk about a special gift I received just from her May birth.


As a teen and young adult, I loved the coming of Spring. When I smelled the fresh new growth, saw the trees begin to swell with budding life, felt the soft rain, and heard the cheery chirping of the birds – my heart would overflow with happy memories associated with this season of life: baseball season back, playing outdoors, school term coming to an end.




Then one year, my Mom was so sick, dying from breast cancer. She died on May 17th. The next year when I smelled and saw and felt Spring approach, I was overwhelmed with sadness. I burst into tears at times. My body knew, before my mind figured it out. Spring and the month of May were now sadly linked with Mom’s death. This continued year after year. May was ruined for me.




In 1993 my first grandchild, Marina, was born – on May 15th. And to my astonishment, the joy of Spring and May returned to me with this wonderful gift of Marina, and later, two more May grandkids. Now when I smell the trees and see the colorful Spring flowers, I once more experience joy and excitement. I like to think my Mom in Heaven had something to do with this gift. Like it was her way to give me back Spring and May. That would be so like my Mom. Always giving. Thank you Mom. And thank you, Tina and Reed, for the gift of 3 beautiful May grandkids.

Star Trek

What a treat my 2009 Mothers Day was! Dinner at Weight Watchers’ friendly Applebee’s and a huge azalea from hubby; a box of delicious, nutritious fruit, and 2 gorgeous bouquets from my kids. And then my son-in-law treated us all to the new movie – Star Trek.

I have already confessed what a Star Trek addict I am. I’ve seen all 5 TV versions over and over again. In fact, I watched 5 episodes of TNG this week and am currently renting DS9 from Netflix for the second time around. But I never really got into the Star Trek movies; one or two I’ve never even seen.

So how happy I was to be absolutely enthralled by this new Star Trek movie about the early history of Kirk, Spock and crew. From the action packed opening blast that treated of birth and death, I was totally hooked. The villain was nasty enough, the action was non-stop, the story flowed. Even the time travel didn’t give me a headache. And this film was funny; in fact, it was great fun! Enjoyed by 3 generations in our theater row alone. I know from the reaction of my 13 year old grandson who was sitting next to me.

But what really worked in this film were the characters of Kirk and Spock. To capture their individual personalities, and then to develop their unique relationship, was a gem of filmmaking. These young actors made the old beloved characters come alive and blossom for me once more.

I loved the ending, which is the opening of the first Star Trek TV series. I hope it means much more to come. Star Trek – Live Long and Prosper.

I Remember Mom

This Mother’s Day I feel very grateful for the legacy that my Mom gave to me. Her strength, courage, perseverance and dreams have inspired me and shaped my life. Elizabeth (Betty) L. was a stay-at-home Mom who was definitely not your typical ‘50’s homemaker. She wasn’t much for cooking or housecleaning. She loved shopping – always for everyone else – and going to the movies. Mom was very involved in our schooling, "hearing our homework" every night and demanding near perfection – just ask my sister! She attended a two year high school and made it clear that I would go to college. I think she would have liked to go to college and have a career herself. I believe that it was this desire of hers that helped me achieve so much academically, including a B.S. degree in Math and an M.S. in gerontology. Plus a career serving older adults. Thank you Mom for your faith in me and your not-so-gentle pushes that I sorely needed.


When Dad died suddenly at age 55, Mom was already working and now had 4 children still at home, including my youngest brothers aged 13 and 10. She never felt sorry for herself but did what needed to be done. I have often said that I inherited my "bouncebackability" from my Mom. She never gave up. Her battle with cancer is a lesson in how to deal with illness and dying. How lucky I am to have been blessed with such a Mom!


I am also grateful for all the wonderful mothers who have been part of my life: my grandmothers, aunts, sister, cousins and friends. And the next generation of Mommys: my daughters, daughter-in-law, nieces, including Audra, the newest Mommy in the family. And on and on. Happy Mother’s Day!