Senior Prom, Sunshine and Standards

You are my sunshine,

my golden sunshine.

You make me happy,

when skies are grey.

You'll never know dear,

how much I love you.

Please don't take

my sunshine

away.

I have been singing this song to my youngest Angel Daughter since the very day that she was born and as she got older, she began singing it to me, as well.  Maybe it was because this child was born with a particularly sunshiny disposition.(She sparkles when she smiles.)  With each one of my girls, I have special songs, sayings, or inside giggles that only we share with one another which has created very special bonds in the relationships within our relationships.  This actually makes quite a bit of sense when I think about it as every positive relationship in our lives contain special nuances that make each singular relationship unique.  It isn't really something that we set out to do.  When a bond is created, it is something that simply just seems to happen.  It is kind of like when a cricket rubs it's legs together to create a unique song.  Each relationship fosters it's own distinctive music.  Each relationship is extraordinary.  That is the way it is meant to be when done well.

Angel Daughter Number Four attended her Senior Prom last weekend.  I cannot believe that we have now experienced four of these momentous occasions.  I carry within my heart, memories of each one of these very beautiful days all very different while my feelings were so much the same with each one.  Another step closer to graduation.  Another step closer toward growth and independence.  Another view of my daughters as women.  Senior Prom does this.  It makes you look at your child through a very grown-up lens because, well, they look so grown up in their formal dresses and suits.  It can be a very sobering experience for a parent who really does not feel much older than the day that their child was born(all of us), but who is suddenly standing there wondering when their baby grew up.  Sunrise, sunset...

Hugs...

Gratitude...(look at those shoes!)

Laughter...

Posing...

More laughter...

And her favorite guy in the world.

As we followed the girls up the very steep hill to take pictures, my husband trailed protectively behind our daughter to make sure that she didn't fall back on those crazy heels.  When she chose the gorgeous Ralph Lauren sequined navy gown to wear to her prom, I was very impressed as were the saleswomen who sold it to us.  Angel Daughter Number Four is obviously an individual who honors personal style and this gown was a bit more refined than what I expected her to select.  We found it only a few days before prom, and the saleswomen almost had tears in their eyes.  They told me about the "apron"(meaning the sides were cut out like a full-length apron with a bib on top but nothing underneath) dresses that some girls were picking out which left absolutely little to the imagination.(They said that they had sold hundreds!)  They told me about the proud parents who came in with their daughters and with tears in their own eyes, stood there and told their barely dressed daughters with breasts lifted up way past decency how beautiful they looked and what a perfect choice they had made.  I am not at all sure where these parents expect their daughters to go from there, but that would not have made it past me or my husband.  So, when AD4 came home with the very trendy spike-covered heels the next day,  to wear with her gown, I was pleased as punch.  Pleased to know that she was still being true to her own individual style and pleased to know that she would look like the beautiful eighteen year old young lady that she is.

As I watched her walk gingerly up the hill under the safe guidance of her father's hand ready to catch her at any moment if she stumbled, I thought about how this is one of the many ways in which I see him as a father.  This is how our girls see him.  As a protective force, always ready to catch them if they begin to stumble.

Soon after we arrived at the top of the hill, we noticed a stray piece of thread that was hanging off of the hem of AD4's gown.  When Mark leaned down to detach the stray piece of string from her dress, AD4 giggled through one of her sparkling, sunshiny smiles as her friends looked on and my heart caught in my throat.  This is one of the moments that I will carry in my heart's memory when I recall the Senior Prom of our youngest Angel Daughter.  My man, their father, who continues to set a wonderful, shining example of how a man should treat a woman, this is what they should wait for.  I pray, with all of my heart, that this is something that they will look for in the husbands that they will someday choose for themselves.  I hope that along with all of the lessons that have stuck and unstuck and sort of stuck up until this time, this one, this very important ideal, will hold a standard to which all of our daughters will strive for.  Wait for it, girls.  There are men out there who know how to be a man.    Settle for nothing less.  It is what you each deserve.

And The Final Sun Goes Down on May...

There is something about living right on the beach that makes it so much harder to ignore the moments.  Busy, messy, beautiful life still goes on, but somehow the moments take on a greater meaning, each one with a more singular effect. Maybe it is the constant soundtrack of the sea sounds rising, sometimes softly, sometimes more emphatically in the background of whatever else is happening, that brings the attention back into the moment.  Maybe it is the smell of the sea air, or the balmy breeze, or the chime of the train bell as it chugs gently below our bluff.  It could be the way in which the sunlight reflects off of the water(sometimes causing an unexpected tear of unforeseen emotion), or how the color of the sky is a constantly changing hue, or that the clouds might be there one moment and then not be there in the next.  But then, it could be because this place, this small plot of land overlooking the ocean, this coastal jewel, this piece of heaven on earth, is the closest place to home that my soul has ever really known.  Ever known...And yet whatever it is, these moments, these encapsulates of time, these finite pixels of never-ending grandiosity, cause the breath to stop, cause the moments to freeze, cause the attention to be drawn elsewhere.  And whatever was seemingly so important and crucial before, becomes engulfed back into the moment like the sun being drawn slowly down from its highest heights to where it can no longer be seen. Back down into the horizon.  Back down.  Back down...

Soar high into the month of June, my sweet friends.

The Messenger

Two tiny eyes tracked me as I walked out to the edge of the bluff.  It was a sensation, at first.  That slight inkling that even though you are seemingly alone, you are not alone, and that there is someone, something focusing in on you.  Oftentimes when this feeling arises, I glance around only to find that I am only imagining things, that there truly is no one else there.  But still, there is that strange sensation.  That feeling.  That whisper.  And so, on this day, I paid some extra attention to the feeling.  I slowly did a 360 degree spin.  At first with my eyes open and then, with my eyes closed taking in all of the surrounding sensations.  My palms raised up towards the sun.  Breathing in the freshness of the ocean air.  Allowing the whisper of a breeze to tickle my skin.  When I stopped, I stood for a moment with my eyes still closed.  Enjoying the sensation of not-aloneness.  And then, with my feet planted firmly on the earth, I opened my eyes.

There she was perched on the smallest wisp of a branch.  She, with the two tiny eyes, watching me.  Observing me.  Curious, but not afraid.  A beautiful little Hummingbird.  The one that I have written about here before.  The one who calls the bluff outside of my home, her home.  The one who buzzes playfully around my head on days when the air is still and the sun is especially hot, beckoning for me to fill her feeder with the cherry red nectar that she loves so much.  We observed each other for what seemed like a very long time.  Two members of two very distinctive species.  Yet in her eyes, I could feel her saying, "I see you."  Not through you, or around you, but you.

And then she did something that I have never witnessed a Hummingbird do before.  With her feathers translucent in the sunlight and her eyes still keenly focused upon mine, she began to stretch wide.

She raised her delicate wings upwards towards the sunshine as she fluttered her brilliant feathers apart.  Her miniature, four inch body became as expansive as it could possibly become.

As she clung with her talons to the edge of the tiny branch, we continued to observe one another.  No fear, no threat, no aggression.  Just genuine curiosity and admiration.

Acknowledgement.

And as her wings relaxed, her lightening-speed tongue which is shaped like the letter "W", shot around in the air in front of her, as if to take in even more of her environment.  Tasting, sensing, feeling.

Connecting.

And there we both rested.  Eye to eye.  Spirit to spirit.  No longer wondering who might be watching us, but seeing, really seeing.

Knowing by the tangibility of two clearly focused eyes, being reminded, that we are not alone.  That we are being watched and guarded and held in loving, albeit curious regard by beings that we might not fully  understand.  We are kindred spirits yet which one of us is the messenger?  Which one of us was sent to bring ease and peace to the other?

For another several minutes in our newly relaxed states, we continued to regard one another.  Me, standing as still and as serenely as possible.  And the Hummingbird, gently turning her head from side to side so that she could contemplate me with both of her eyes.


How often is it that we really feel seen?  How often do we regard one another with a feeling of awe and mutual respect?   How often do we open our eyes for long enough to understand that we are not alone even when it feels as if we might be?

How often?

When the moment was right, the little Hummingbird checked deeply into my eyes for one more second, and then nonchalantly spread her wings and flew.

I was left standing alone, but not alone.  A feeling of reverence and deep appreciation remained imprinted upon my soul.  A feeling of lightness overtook me and for a moment, just as the Hummingbird had done, I felt as if I, too, might actually be able to take flight.

San Clemente in October

Last week, the skies were filled with a blazing, golden heat which should only be reserved for the dog days of mid-summer.  The sun bore down upon us and the temperatures reached record breaking numbers as we were left to wonder where the fall had gone.

One of my favorite little Hummingbirds began buzzing around me as if to command me to refill his feeder.(Which I promptly did!)  And then he thanked me by lapping up the cherry red nectar with a thirst that seemed insatiable.

The ocean was clear and warm and mild.  Light breezes toyed gently with the sails on the sailboats.  Fresh Kelp beds(the dark areas out in the distance) thrived as the algae spores rose upwards toward the sunshine.

The beaches became crowded, once again, with people seeking relief from the unbearable heat.  They explored the numerous tide-pools on the lazy, heat-infused, autumn afternoons, momentarily forgetting about school and pumpkins and Halloween costumes.

The sun glistened off the surface of a surfboard, as people sought shelter beneath the comfort of a sole umbrella.  Content to be by the water on this misplaced summer day in early October.

The sweltering heat felt like it would never subside.  It hung in the air.  It surrounded our bodies.  It was stifling and stagnant.

Until suddenly, it was not.  Change blew in and the skies began to fill with fluffy, ethereal puffs of white clouds.

The heatwave broke.  Windsocks, flags and palm tree branches began dancing on the balmy, beach breezes.  The rain storms which would take place during the next several days, once again misplaced, were beginning to form.

And once again, the flocks of giant Pelicans remembered that it was time to go home.  They took flight against the grey skies in large numbers, their silhouettes creating beautiful patterns against the darkening clouds.

And as I watched them flying overhead, I once again remembered that I, too, am searching for home.  A home within myself.  A home to which I can fly, even in the absence of wings.  A home that includes my husband and my four Angel Daughters regardless of season, place or time.  A home that encompasses everything I need and not so much of what I don't.

The DNA of the Soul

*Welcome Skywatch friends!  Thank you for stopping by.  I look forward to visiting you, too!

A glimpse of inspiration soared past my line of vision as I looked towards the sky for answers.  For those of you who know me and those of you who might be new here(Welcome!) or just passing through(Hi there!), you may have noticed an ongoing theme in many of my writings.  Flight.  The absolute need for my spirit to soar.  The absolute desire to watch my Four Angel Daughters to own the wings that were given to them well before birth.  And the joy that I receive from hearing about your flight patterns.

We all have one, you know.  A certain flight pattern which is imbedded within us, sort of like the DNA of the soul.  And it is up to us to create the journey that can best lead us to being our highest self.  It is like an agreement between us and The Universe(God, Adonai, Buddha, Jesus...).  An unwritten promise to use this life, to elevate.  To become more.  To help one another to become more.  To accept our positions as both teacher and student.

As I conclude the week that has passed, and anticipate the one which lies ahead, I am being forced to  stare my flight pattern squarely in the eye.  I have chosen a course of action which was mine alone, to choose, but I suspect that in many ways, this is how things were meant to be.  I cannot deviate from what has been imprinted upon the DNA of my soul.  It is what makes me who I am.  It is what makes you who you are.  And when our paths cross, sometimes the differences are what will come together to create a commonality.  Or not.  But still, it is up to us, each one of us, to fly as high as we can.  To soar.

This I believe with all of my heart.

As the Tides Change and Happy 1st Night of Chanukah

As I sit back to take inventory on the things that I have gleaned during 2008, I must remind myself to reflect more deeply on the good, while still holding on to the lessons that I have received from the unbearable.  Spreading my wings to fly off into the unknown of another year is, at the same time, a huge relief and scary as hell.  The emotions that I am experiencing in leaving this past year behind, remind me that I truly do not know what life will bring from one moment to the next.  That there are no guarantees, no coincidences and truly no absolutes.  And although this past year brought with it only a month and a half before my family experienced the saddest tragedy that we have ever had to face, life continued happening as we celebrated birth(renewal), a graduation(transition), and the flight of two of our Angel Daughters going off to college(one for the first time and one as a senior).  
And while I cannot say that I am at all sorry to get past the psychological boundary of putting 2008 behind me, I can say that it was a year that will stand out forever in my mind.  Heading in to 2009 brings with it a mixed sense of relief, apprehension, and hope.  In some ways, I feel as if I will need a compass in order to navigate the wind currents by which my life will now flow.  In other ways, I feel a bit stronger and better prepared because of the storms that sought to clip my wings.  Life is like that.  We don't realize how incredibly strong we are until the bounds of that strength are tested.  It is only then that we know, really know, how resilient we can be in the face of adversity.

Standing at the edge of a very low tide, last week, I noticed the rippling sands that are usually covered by the sea water.  It made me think about the things that reside just below the surface of who we believe ourselves to be during the times when our lives seem fairly unchallenged.  It is only during the unusual times, the times when things are not as they should be, that we are forced to peer beneath the surface into the face of someone who feels strange and unfamiliar.  Those are the times when we can learn one thousand lessons in what seems to be a few short moments.  The low tides of our lives, when taken seriously and to heart, are the times when we can gain momentous growth.  And whether we are ready or we are not, the wind currents will change, the tides will ebb and flow, and the storms will come.  It is in how we choose to navigate the changes, that will determine whether we will become permanently grounded or if we will be able to soar even higher than we did before.

As you reflect upon this past year, may you treat yourself as you would, a student who is constantly learning new lessons as they go.  Gently, honestly, but with a small bit of slack and a swift kick in the rear, when absolutely necessary.  

Thank you for helping me to find my own wings.

Remembering Your Wings or Why I Can Relate to a Helium Balloon

I spotted these pink balloons floating heavenward, the other day, and for a moment, my soul froze mesmerized.  It was as if a small part of me somehow remembered what it was like to fly.
So much has changed for me in the past year.  I lost my only brother.  I found out that family can just be a pretty word for strangers who don't know a thing about you, but who pretend that they do.  I also found out that family, when done correctly, can absolutely save your life.  I experienced the true meaning of the word "betrayal" and then, what guilt looks like on people who do intend to cause pain.  It's not a pretty sight.  

But I also learned that death does not separate souls.  It does not mean the ending of love.  It does not cause a relationship to fracture, and in some ways, it strengthens the bond.  In watching those balloons, I felt a momentary separation between my body and my soul.  I remembered what it was like to be free of earthly pain.  I recognized my soul as a very separate part of my being and it reminded me that I could fly.  I remembered my own wings, tethered to their earthly body, yet very much alive and vibrant.  And I believed...I do believe that the strand which tethers my own soul to my body is the very same thread that keeps me connected to those whom I have loved, but who are now flying freely.
When my girls were little, I always told them that a balloon that broke free was a gift for the angels.  A gift for the angels from my Angels.  Because of this belief, they never cried when they lost hold of a helium balloon.  They would stand stoically, necks bent backwards, gazing into the sky, their little hands waving as the balloon drifted higher and higher into the heavens.  They could be strong because they knew that their balloon might be caught by a band of playful angels, or a thoughtful soul looking down, watching over the people that they loved.  They knew that just because they couldn't see their balloon, that it didn't mean that it was now gone forever.  It was just someplace else.  Someplace different.  Someplace they remembered, even if that memory was only somehow felt on a cellular level.

We all have wings.  And although the only flight that we can now experience is with our feet on the ground, it is important to remember what it is like to fly.  And to remember that those who we love, who are no longer attached to this earth, still hold us very close.  As we do them.  And the relationship continues, although it is different.  Because if we try very hard to remember, we will feel the freedom of air moving us skyward like a balloon that has broken free.  And that feeling will be incredible...Absolutely incredible.

May you find a way to feel the gentle movement of the breeze which can bring your sight skyward and try to remember what it is like to fly.  May you take a moment to focus on that strong, invisible thread that connects you, undyingly, to those you love.  Near or far.  May you recognize that the love is just as strong as it ever was.  Flight or no flight.