Telling the Truth

connecting the dots of my life

Tag: Health and Wellbeing

May 12, 2018

bright ruffled poppies

bright ruffled poppies
dance along the garden wall
bowing and nodding

Here’s to the women in my life who mothered me along the way! You didn’t even know you were doing it. Sometimes I didn’t know, either. I’ll never forget the friend who invited me to a makeup demo. I’ve never been a big makeup fan. It was the devil’s paint when I was growing up–also a sad and sorry sign of being a ‘loose’ woman.

Nonetheless, by the time I got to the seminary as a professor in the early 1980s, I was in dire need of mothering. This little makeup demo was a tiny step that helped give me more confidence than I ever had as a child, teenager, or young adult.

Along with the makeup demo came a little tutorial on colors that would complement my summer beauty! Imagine that…thinking of myself as a ‘summer.’ Even more spectacular, these two little tips became the foundation of everything I wore or gently applied to my face. Colors that actually made me happy to look in the mirror.

Then there was my emotional/physical/spiritual storm during the late 1980s and 1990s. This time it wasn’t about what was on the outside. It was about what was eating me away on the inside. It took a while to get there, but in the early 1990s I met a gifted psychotherapist who actually listened to me and wanted to hear about my life. Without meaning to, she mothered me for decades, and still plays a role in my life. Encouraging me through this last chapter.

I wouldn’t be here at all without my birth mother. She was beautiful on the outside and inside, and her life was fraught from the beginning. Sadly, she never talked much about herself. I think she carried a lot of shame, along with physical pain and the challenge of living with my father for over 60 years. Some of what she wasn’t able to give me, a great host of women have given me in small and large ways. Often when least expected.

For these women, past and present, I’m sending these poppies. Small signs of the beauty to which you introduced me. I see bits and pieces of beauty in life, in nature, in friendships, in myself, and in hard places I thought I would never experience. All because you showed me your beauty from the inside out.

Yesterday afternoon I visited my neighbor’s backyard garden. He had planted a row of oriental poppies against his garden wall. They were magnificent. Hence the haiku and the photos above of gorgeous, crepe-paper-like oriental orange poppies.

Here’s to a Happy Mother’s Day and Year to all Mothers–including those we never expected to cross our paths along the way.

Elouise♥

©Elouise Renich Fraser, 12 May 2018
Photos found at cbsally.com

4 Comments
May 9, 2018

Walking at Valley Forge | Photos

Nearly two weeks ago our daughter Sherry and her husband Scott arrived for a long-anticipated visit. Yesterday we drove them to the airport for a flight back to the West Coast. Always it’s too short. Always I weep my eyes out, during and after (not without happy breaks). Always I feel softened and vulnerable. Always I love this break from routine. Always I’m loathe to say goodbye.

The day after they arrived we went for a late afternoon walk through part of Valley Forge National Park. Two things strike me when we visit the Park. One is the stillness and quiet, despite being just a stone’s throw from crowded highways and huge shopping centers. The other is nonstop birdsong, whether we’re walking by the meadow or through a wooded area.

Here are a few photos, minus the beautiful birdsong. The photo at the top shows us (minus D who’s behind the camera) just beginning our walk.

Looking out over the meadows, it’s tempting to think they were always there. Before the 1977-78 winter encampment during the Revolutionary War, almost all Valley Forge was forested. During the 6-month winter encampment, most trees were cut down for firewood and buildings.

Reclaiming the land as a national memorial involved delineating swaths of forest, creating managed meadows, and leaving space for a series of state highways, walking and biking paths, visitor facilities, monuments, memorials, reconstructed troop huts, and other renovated facilities such as George Washington’s headquarters during the encampment (a gift to the Park). The Park covers 3,500 acres (1,400 ha), gets over a million visitors per year, and is open year-round. Click here to see a visitor’s map of the grounds (not true to scale).

Here’s a little jack-in-the-pulpit beside a trail through the woods.

Now we’ll pause to ponder the look of young poison ivy in Pennsylvania. Isn’t it beautiful in the late afternoon sun? And don’t forget as you hike through the woods that so-called ‘dead’ poison ivy vines (often as thick as ropes) are also virulent.


These lovely little flowers are not poison ivy.

On our way back to the parking lot D got a photo of an elusive red-winged blackbird. In the last photo below, I’m almost to the parking lot. Notice the shaded picnic tables to the left, and facilities for visitors on the edge of the parking lot just ahead.

Thanks for stopping by!
Elouise♥

©Elouise Renich Fraser, 9 May 2018
Photos taken by DAFraser, 29 April 2018
Valley Forge National Historical Park

16 Comments
May 2, 2018

the old woman + photos

the old woman sits
staring beyond the window
into her future
hovering beneath the sky
dancing in the setting sun

The words came to me this morning while I was sitting at my kitchen table, looking out the window at our back yard. Being with my adult children and their spouses always puts me in a pensive mood–along with the sheer joy of being in their company. Each visit feels a bit more precious than the last.

Our daughter and her husband have been here for several days. So far we’ve had a mix of cold and now very warm, moving toward hot weather later this week. I’m happy to say the attic guest room is a huge hit! On Monday we visited Longwood Gardens for an afternoon of picture-perfect weather. Yesterday we went for a late-afternoon walk along forested trails in Valley Forge Park. I’ll post photos later.

In the meantime, here are three more from our Longwood visit on Monday afternoon. Proof that Spring has arrived for sure.

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 2 May 2018
Photos taken by DAFraser, 30 April 2018, Longwood Gardens

12 Comments
April 25, 2018

Attic Update with Photos

Whew! I can hardly believe we’re getting there. Our daughter and her husband arrive Saturday night, and will be our first guests in the new attic bedroom/sitting area! Except for Smudge and I. We’ve already stolen a little snooze or two on the new mattress.

The photo at the top and the following photo are painful reminders of What It Was Back When….after more than 30 years of living in this old house. The top photo looks Northeast, the one below Southwest. D took the top photo before we began clearing stuff out; below we’re well over halfway there, believe it or not.

And here’s what the contractors had to work with–almost ready for them to begin.

Below you’ll see the Northeast look, with everything but the floor finished. I loved the old checkerboard linoleum, though it was well past its prime. In these photos we still have carpet to go, plus furniture. The trim is white; the ceiling and walls are very light green with blue tint that complements the view from the attic windows–tree tops and blue sky. The third photo looks toward our back yard–Southwest. You can see the handrail we had added to the attic stairway. There were already skylights over the stairs and on the East side of the attic roof.

So here’s where we are today–still getting things put together and in place. Carpet all laid, with the painter due to return and put one more coat on the attic stairwell. The carpet is gray–a short, tight plush weave that’s supposed to resist cat claws.


Last but not least, I took some photos with my IPad to document the contributions of the two males most present in my life these days.



I’m surprised at how wonderful it feels to have this task well along the way to completion. I’ve dreaded the day when we would either die and leave the mess to our family members to clean up, or when we would finally grab the bull by the horns and wrestle it to the ground. Actually, I have D to thank for wrestling it to the ground–though I’ll take my share of the bows, as well.

The rest of this week we’ll be getting things back to a bit of sanity downstairs and upstairs. I’ll post as I’m able, and take attic snoozes with Smudge whenever the urge hits me.

Thanks for stopping by today!
Elouise♥

©Elouise Renich Fraser, 25 April 2018
Photos taken by DAFraser and ERFraser

15 Comments
April 24, 2018

Listening to Rhiannon Giddens

Have you met Rhiannon Giddens? She was recently chosen to become a MacArthur Fellow which includes receiving a MacArthur Genius Grant. You can see a list of all recipients since 1981 at the link above.

So why was Ms. Giddens chosen? Not for anything she had already accomplished, but as an investment in her originality, insight, and potential as a musician. The award has been given out every year since 1981, always to a group of persons with potential in a range of areas. A committee chooses the recipients; there is no application process.

Ms. Giddens is the daughter of a White father and a Black mother. They met and married in North Carolina in the 1970s, just three years after the USA legalized interracial marriage. The song above, accompanied by Ms. Giddens on her banjo, uses two voices. Julie is a Black servant; Mistress is her White mistress. Each verse is in a different voice. This is Ms. Giddens’ way of drawing on her bi-racial identity. Particularly given the history of North Carolina that led to the brutal massacre of 1898.

The song takes us back to 1898 and the moments leading up to the arrival of White men intent on killing as many Black men, women and children as possible. In the last stanzas we learn the truth about Julie and her Mistress.

Lectures and books about our current racial issues are important. Yet they don’t move me or give me as much insight into the tangled mess we’ve inherited than do music, poetry or stories of this depth from artists such as Ms. Giddens.

©Elouise Renich Fraser, 24 April 2018
Video found on YouTube

2 Comments
April 23, 2018

White Supremacy

I’ve lived in majority White neighborhoods most of my life. I’ve also lived through the drama of early desegregation, beginning with the 1960s. Back then the drama was chiefly about Black and White Americans. However, it now includes other immigrant and refugee populations. Especially those without financial security or steady jobs with decent wages and health benefits.

Despite the dreams and goodwill of many US citizens, things don’t seem to have changed that much. Especially in our cities. But also, increasingly, in the suburbs. Not in the shopping malls, but in our neighborhoods. It’s good to attend a church that’s visibly open to all comers. But even this doesn’t take the place of neighborhoods.

It’s simple. If I don’t have daily contact in my neighborhood with people who don’t look or act like I do, I won’t get very far on my own. I know this, because I now have Muslim, Roman Catholic, and Jewish neighbors. Plus other White Protestant neighbors. I have no Black neighbors.

My attitudes and behaviors are important. Nonetheless, I can’t solve this alone. This a national problem and disgrace, especially given decades-old legislation against discriminatory practices in the housing industry. The problem began early in this nation’s history, and has only become more deeply entrenched as we’ve made ‘progress’ toward what I would call semi-integration (sometimes takes good pictures, but it isn’t real).

Here’s a fact I heard this weekend on a reputable radio station. With the exception of President Obama, none of our recent Presidents took housing discrimination on as the monster it is. In addition, Mr. Trump has further weakened these efforts with his choice of staff, his tweets, his attitudes, and his macho White Supremacy approach to governing.

In other words, we have great legislation and ineffective or nonexistent follow-through. Neighborhoods don’t happen on maps; they happen in hearts and everyday lives. On streets, porches and sidewalks. In back yards and corner grocery stores. We need to rub elbows with each other. Share the news; help with the snow shoveling; watch the kids from time to time. Talk about the weather and then maybe about something more important than that.

Over the weekend I heard an interview that gave me a starting point. A place and way to begin writing about this. So here’s the deal for today. I bring you a quote. That’s all. It gives me a chill every time I read it.

The Anglo Saxon planted civilization on this continent and wherever this race has been in conflict with another race, it has asserted its supremacy and either conquered or exterminated the foe. This great race has carried the Bible in one hand and the sword [in the other]. Resist our march of progress and civilization and we will wipe you off the face of the earth.

Major William A. Guthrie, 28 Oct 1898, in Goldsboro, NC, speaking to a crowd of 8,000 at what was called “A White Supremacy Convention.” From Raleigh News and Observer, 29 Oct 1898. Quotation excerpted from Wikipedia article on The Wilmington (NC) Insurrection of 1989. 

Nuanced for the year 2018, versions of this quote are still filling the airwaves and social media. The question is how to combat this assault on our common humanity and on our increasingly isolated neighborhoods.

©Elouise Renich Fraser, 23 April 2018
Photo found at whqr.org

6 Comments
April 21, 2018

Scintillating

In waiting rooms these days I find more than enough time to ponder imponderables such as “Scintillating.” That was the Word for the Day in one of four waiting rooms I visited this past week. It was emblazoned on a sign at the front desk, large as life, next to the attendant.

“And how are you this morning, Mrs Fraser?”
— or Elouise, depending on the depth of our waiting room acquaintance.

I ponder for a heartbeat.
Does she really want to know?

“I’m scintillating, thank you!
And how are you this morning?”

Seriously, it felt good to laugh out loud with her in the waiting room. There’s always something in the air—pain, anxiety, fear, impatience, pride, anguish or anger. Often compounded by heavy silence, preoccupation with cell phones, and very little laughter. Especially the kind that won’t be tamed.

I confess it’s difficult to be scintillating most days, though I love the rare high of being found brilliant, exciting, exhilarating or would you believe dazzling?

Yet now, more than ever, I want to find scintillating. Not just once in a long while, but regularly and even in a matter of fact way. Not manufactured, but stumbled upon, discovered like a gem in the midst of a steaming heap of food I don’t like.

Growing old is one thing. We take it as a matter of pride—as well we might, given all the bullets we dodged just to reach this number on our life calendars.

But what about all those surprises that go with growing old? The kind that keep us going back to the doctor’s office or physical therapy centers seeking eternal renewal if not recovery?

I know it’s not considered good form to jabber on about one’s illnesses. But isn’t that part of the problem? Here I am in my mid-70s, with few people in my life willing to tell me what’s happening in their bodies.

When I was growing up, it was important not to focus on the severity of illness. This was considered a matter of privacy, or even shame. We wanted to be seen as normal, healthy, or healed. To some, illness meant God was punishing you, or that you didn’t have enough faith. Abnormal physical health meant abnormal spiritual health.

Well, my normal flew out the window a while ago, and life is serving up a plate of food I don’t like and can’t ignore. It’s shaping the contours of every day of my life, and refuses to be polite or retiring. Better to let this become a series of mysterious, dazzling, perhaps scintillating gifts I have yet to unwrap.

Not because they aren’t serious, but because of what they offer. An opportunity to join this human race in ways that are as strange to me as they are to others. Capable of offering unexpected insights and surprising connections with others, if not scintillating health.

Here’s to your health and mine!
Elouise♥

©Elouise Renich Fraser, 21 April 2018
Photo found at shutterstock.com

9 Comments
April 19, 2018

The Memory Unit

The Memory Unit gathers –

A motley congregation
faces the long, high pulpit and
double-locked entrance.
Weary attendants gather behind
the pulpit busy with paperwork
and a phone that never rings
for these lost sheep.

Women and men in varied
stages of present non-presence
watch and wait for what will not
arrive today or tomorrow.
In various stages and styles
of dress and distress they sit
on chairs or in wheelchairs or
lie strapped on trolleys to
avoid inconvenience or upset.
Some moan or shout while others
eerily silent stare and a few
bright-faced parishioners knowingly
greet everyone and no one passing by.

Silent or babbling, singing or shouting
repetitive statements and vociferous
objections to no one and everyone
in particular the congregation of
expectant supplicants searches
not for lost sheep or a shepherd
but for themselves and worlds
they can never re-enter even if
they come through the locked door
caring for and loving them as they are
if only for this passing moment.

©Elouise Renich Fraser, 19 April 2018
Poem based on my memory of a visit several years ago to a Memory Unit in Philadelphia
Photo taken by Maja Daniels in a Memory Unit in France; found on npr.org

10 Comments
April 18, 2018

Longwood Gardens in April | Photos 2

This sleepy momma is sitting on her nest taking a mid-afternoon snooze. She’s next to the Longwood Gardens Lake, not far from her sleepy mate. He looks like he might fall into the water any minute now.

I took an opportunity to have a little lake-side sit-down myself, near the  geese and a lovely dawn redwood tree. I’m in the white sunhat. The other woman is having a snooze with the geese.

Now we’re walking on toward the back entrance to the flower walk. First, some baby ferns being born. Then a photo of bare tree roots that have been on top of the ground for years, holding up a dead trunk. They’re now a study tree for children doing a study tour of the gardens. I think it’s a statue of honor for all us oldies out there who just keep hanging on!


The flower walk was almost deserted. It’s early tulip, hyacinth, pansy, narcissus and daffodil season. Even though it doesn’t look lush, it’s full of early spring color and new growth.

 

 

 

In just over a week our daughter and her husband will arrive for a visit. On the agenda: a drive out to Longwood. We can’t wait to see them again. Portland, Oregon is a long way from Philadelphia.

This visit to Longwood was a welcome break from getting our attic ready to serve as a guest bedroom. I’ve decided cleaning out and repurposing an attic is sort of like having a baby when you’re too old to have a baby. Only this time, D did most of the heavy lifting, for which I’m grateful.

I’ll post some photos of our attic renovation later this week. It’s looking good!

©Elouise Renich Fraser, 18 April 2018
Photos taken by DAFraser, 13 April 2018

18 Comments
April 16, 2018

Longwood Gardens in April | Photos 1


Last Friday we joined at least 98% of the metro-Philadelphia area at Longwood Gardens. The big draw? Temperatures in the high 80s. The pathway from the parking lot to the Visitor’s Center was lined with small early bloomers. Those are Wild Oats above (lavender with yellow eye).

We walked to the café for lunch, followed by a long-anticipated walk in the Meadow. Here’s a quick look on the way to the newly renovated café, and then to the Meadow. In the first photo, the Conservatory is on the left; the café is behind the trees in the center.


 

Our walk was invigorating and a bit eery. First, Spring was barely beginning to peek out from the ground. Second, 26 percent of the meadow was burned off in mid-March as part of good meadow practices. Third, we saw only a handful of birds (swallows and an occasional predator), but no butterflies or bees at all. Still, it was worth every minute. Definitely not crowded, and a great workout after a winter of relentless snow, ice and wind.


Here are two views from the top of the meadow, looking back toward the flower walk, outdoor theater and café areas.

Things perked up a bit on the downhill walk toward the pond. Here’s a lovely bird chalet ready for occupancy (#31 in case the birds get lost),  a reassuring message from Longwood saying this will indeed become grand beauty on an awesome platform, and a couple of murky cold pond creatures. The second was like a flash on top of the water! Out of there the minute we were spotted.

Happy Monday, everybody! I’m glad you stopped by. Next time: a selection of photos from the other side of our visit to Longwood.

©Elouise Renich Fraser, 16 April 2018
Photos taken by DAFraser, 27 April 2018, Longwood Gardens and Meadow Garden

12 Comments