Saturday, July 16, 2011

an unexpected visitor

an unexpected visitor

Responding to the gentle knock at the door,I slowly opened it with trepidation. Before me stood a man who was Rob Lowe handsome with a furrowed brow and frowning blue eyes. He was casual chic in jeans and a leather jacket and was of few words but wanted to take me for a spin in his new car. It was awkward and he was more focused on expressing his pride in the car than having any dialogue. I was mesmerized by his chiseled profile in the shadows of the early evening rainy night.

It was the first time I had ever heard anyone be so passionate about the kind of car they were driving. He seemed to say the word Porche with frequency as if he were trying to indoctrinate me with the uniqueness of his car. I gave him my strictest concentration hoping that he would approve of the way I listened furtively to his words of deep affection for his Porche.

It WAS a beautiful car and he repeated that it was a classic but that had little reference for me.The Porche was metalic royal blue with black leather seats and I was distracted by the hypnotizing smell of the leather. The streets were slick from the rain and he asked me if I would like for him to "spin the car out". Of course I nodded yes, because that was something I could sense that he wanted. He was so mesmerizingly handsome I was just hoping he would want me in his company more often.His foot hit the gas pedal and then slammed the brakes spinning the car out in the middle of the empty intersection. My heart was in my throat but I never would have revealed that I was petrified and quivering like some little captured bird.

He performed this maneuver two more times and my stomach was sick with fear. It was the first time I had seen him smile for he was genuinely excited about the way his Porche performed.I pretended to appreciate the "spin outs" and wondered what else was in store. Certainly what he did with his car was safe, and certainly he would take care of me if I cut "the grade".

The beautiful movie star handsome man careening up and down the streets on that rainy night with the five year old by his side was my father, and he had returned from France and wanted to see me. With a tight throat and a lump of feelings in my chest I forced a happy fare well, hoping I had passed his test and that he would want to SEE me again.

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

The Sweetest Days

It seems as though only a nano second ago my daughter was five years old and we were having our picnic under the sprawling tree in our backyard. I served her favorite, a baby spinach salad with whipped garlic/ lemon dressing and chicken drumettes on plastic Disney plates. We were lounging on a Neco wafer pink coverlet on the grass as she would begin to read while also learning Greek mythology.

The illustrations in the book were reminiscent of Chagall and were beautiful enough to to tear out and use as wall paper {but I refrained from doing so}. I was taking pictures in my mind of my beautiful daughter that particularly sunny California day. It was all too poignant that we were making memories and those memories would be seared in my heart forever.

Of course it was she who chose the first Greek myth that she wanted to learn.It was uncanny that she chose Demeter and Persephone, for their story would symbolize the ultimate separation whether by choice or by fate that all mothers and daughters eventually endure.

We took turns reading the dramatic tale of the earth opening and Persephone falling into Hades and her mother Demeter crying with such sorrow that she shed tears of blood. it is said that Demeter's tears spawned red poppies everywhere as she mourned loosing her daughter.

Of course I choked back my own tears but my daughter's eyes were alive with the cinema of the words. She had no concept of the day of separation that would ultimately arrive.

As all mothers in all species {if we are doing our job well} every finite day is a gentle nudge toward the inevitable "sentence"of letting go. With a full heart I both cherish and celebrate with love every nano second of the sweetest days.

Sunday, July 10, 2011

Ghost Friends

From the time I started studying history and absorbing the epochs that most stirred me, I have become attached to certain Heroines and Heros throughout the Ages and keep them close to heart. It was not in school that my passion for history ignited, but in the Volumes of History by Will Durant that my Father gifted me when I was fourteen.

I carry everywhere those who reside deep in my soul and have become Ghost Friends. It was through Dave Brubeck's "Take Five", and PANORAMIC stories of France and Lebanon that my Father's Ghost resides. He is amongst the others for whom I cannot help but idealize.

One of my finest fantasies would be to invite twelve of my Ghost Friends from various ages in history to dine at the consummate dinner party, and of course inclusive of my Ghost Father. Most probably seating would be a nightmare due to disparate religious beliefs and cultural diversity.

I would see to it that my Ghost Friends would discover how much they MATTERED to me and how wherever I was in my life that I was NEVER lonely or bored. Dinner would also be challenging for I would have to serve something that would please EVERYONE'S palette {dinner would just be the EXCUSE to get together for what I really want is to have the PLEASURE of their company}.

The setting would be the least challenging for beauty is universal and although it would most probably be unusual for my Ghost Friends I would keep their various epochs in mind. My Father would be seated on my right, for I could not refrain from whispering intermittently in awe of my Ghost Friends. Hapshepsut would be on my left for I would be dying to know how it felt to be a powerful woman but having to rule, donning a beard and a tail.

Diane de Poitiers could teach us all a thing or two about seduction and Mary Stuart how NOT to rule with the emotions. Aknahten could tell me what inspired him to become the first monotheist. Marc Anthony would most likely be seduced by ME for he was a man ruled by HIS emotions to his ruin. Queen Elizabeth the First would have to be seated far from Mary Stuart for that could be tricky being seated near someone whose death you have decreed. I am curious to know how she lived her life without marriage, children or BIG LOVE and wonder if she was passionate in private? Louis Fourteenth, Sixteenth and Marie Antoinette would have to be included because I am dying to discover if they truly felt they represented God and if they felt ANY guilt from their excesses? I'd be really nervous about inviting Nero but I would anyway {he would require a lot of extra attention} because he would be particularly entertaining.

My GHOST FRIENDS guest list could go on and on... There are countless others and I have not even begun to address my Mythological Friends.