seeing red

Last night the Detroit Red Wings won the Stanley Cup! It was a tough series and they had to defeat Sidney Crosby, the fresh young face of the NHL to do it, but they got the job done and gave this state the lift we really needed. Long before the rest of the country figured out that the housing market was tanking, Michigan was not only reading, but was experiencing the writing on the economic wall. The lifeblood of our state, the hemorrhaging auto industry along with some of the highest small business taxes in the country has added up to one of the worst economic climates of my lifetime. But no matter what’s happening in politics, in business, or even in our own personal lives, Detroit has a history of being one of the greatest sports towns in America and this year’s Wings are one of the biggest hearted, classiest group of guys to ever win a championship here.

I’ll spare you all the stories (like how after winning the final game the captain first handed the cup off not to an MVP but to 39 year old Dallas Drake who nearly retired having never won a cup but decided to play just one more year…or how the starting goalie Dominik Hasek got benched after a few bad games and never complained but humbly cheered backup goalie Chris Osgood on through the finals and into hockey history…or how several players took less money to stay with the team because they love Detroit and they love and respect the people they play with too much to leave…or how one player took a troubled player under his wing and helped him get back on the team, and more importantly, back home to his family), I’ll spare you those stories because if you’re not from Detroit, if you’re not a hockey fan, if you don’t know this group of men you probably won’t understand. You’ll just have to trust me here folks when I tell you that as Lord Stanley rides down Woodward Avenue tomorrow in the parade, the sun glinting off his shiny silver lining, the streets will be framed in rivers of red and Hockeytown will rise up one more time to salute one hell of a hockey team.

lost and found

Read about a cool blog today in my local morning paper. Have you ever lost or found a camera or a media card? Now there’s a place where you can go to either upload a sample of the pictures, or look to see if anyone has posted your lost pics. It’s at ifoundyourcamera.net. I really hope it catches on, it’s nice to see another positive way that people are utilizing the power of the web:)

hummingbird dance

A couple of days ago I was watering the clematis in the photograph above. It grows up against the house next to our front porch. I was standing out on the driveway, staring at the water from the hose as it arced up and out toward the thirsty vine when out of the corner of my eye I saw a glistening emerald green hummingbird fly up to the spray. It hovered a few inches from the water and then it flew over it and then under it and then back to center, eye level with me again and only a few feet away. It did this delightful little dance several times.

As I watched the tiny bird play in the pearly mist, I realized he had no idea I was there, he was just as mesmerized as I had been by the stream of sunlit water. Do you ever have a moment you wish would last forever? When everything is exactly as it should be and you don’t want or need anything “more”? That was one of those moments for me. Watching that delicate little bird bathe in a rainbow of sun-drenched water then sit on a tree branch next to me and fluff and preen his miniature jewel like feathers—it was the universe at its best—it was perfection.

home

So we ran away from home for five days and tried to put some space between us and the grief. The hustle and bustle of traveling, the sights and sounds and the bright warm sun of another place, a place miles and worlds away from where “it” happened temporarily slowed down the cracks forming in our hearts. Of course, the only way out of grief is to go through grief and I know that is what my son and his sweet wife will be experiencing for a very long time.

Human pain does not let go of its grip at one point in time. Rather, it works its way out of our consciousness over time. There is a season of sadness. A season of anger. A season of tranquility. A season of hope. ~Robert Veninga

just be

As we were getting ready to go to the hospital to see the kids when they lost the baby last week, I was trying to think of something to say, you know, something all motherly and wise that would help them feel better. Suddenly, two words came into my head, a gentle whisper from the universe that quieted my racing mind. I heard “just be” and I realized that there were no words that would make them feel better. No matter how powerful we mothers like to think our mother-love is, sometimes we just can’t protect our children from life’s sorrows. Sometimes all we can do is just be and let them know that we love them.

The most precious gift we can offer others is our presence. When mindfulness embraces those we love, they will bloom like flowers. ~Thich Nhat Hanh

spring wildflowers

Every spring I can see these white wildflowers blooming in the commons behind my house. This year I walked out and photographed them so I could find out what they were. I discovered a great web site for identifying wildflowers, My Wildflowers.com where I figured out that they are Sanguinaria canadensis, commonly known as Bloodroot. Turns out they produce a rather nasty toxin called Sanguinarine, which interestingly enough the FDA has approved for use in toothpaste as an anti-plaque, antibacterial agent. Hmm, think I’ll run up to the health food store and get me some Tom’s of Maine Toothpaste.

We are all trying to stay busy around here, trying not to live completely in our heads and reliving the pain of the past week, yet leaving ourselves time to honor our sadness too. The baby was due a week before my birthday on September 7th, which this year also happens to be Grandparent’s Day. Our lovely daughter-in-law’s birthday is coming up soon and me and Mr. bookbabie decided to take the kids on a short trip, we all feel like we need to get away.

Nature always wears the colors of the spirit. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson