Category Archives: #Baby Boomer/Happy/Remories

Presents Vs Presence

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 lg-metta-meditationAging & Attitude

   Recently a local newspaper article titled, “Presence of Mind” and subtitled “Meditation can help cope with stressful holiday season,” caught my attention. Struggling with holiday gift shopping, and guilty of not buying on Brown Thursday, Black Friday or Cyber Monday I started reading.

   The Zen Master immediately captured my heart defining the Metta method and saying; sitting on the floor is optional, and that a popular meditation spot is a bathroom stall. The Metta method teaches love and compassion for yourself first, and then sending the message out into the world. I have tried to meditate, and couldn’t stop the nagging intrusive thoughts from running around by head. Remember Julia Roberts in “Eat, Pray, Love,” well I read the book, and sitting for hours on a cold hard floor does not work for me. Occasionally I find a quiet place to sit and repeat, love, peace, joy endlessly, hoping a mantra will push out negative thoughts about the Valentine flowers I did not receive in 1982. It does not work.

A Buddhist concept, the Metta method was originally instituted to aid terminally ill people, and has gained a following in  other meditation circles because of the positive effects, simple techniques and easy transition.

Benefits

  • Minimize Stress
  • Improve healing
  • Learning about and training the mind

Two Simple Techniques

  • Grounding – Giving attention to the body’s current position
  • Orienting – Awareness of surroundings and knowing exits

Easy Transition

  • Mind is the sky
  • Thoughts are the  clouds

The article recognizes that when meditating, “you see things, the ideas that cause stress,” and thoughts about finding the perfect gift, and its credit card debt are counterproductive to the joy we hope to create. Recognizing what is on your mind is the first step to eliminating stress and being present for loved ones, enjoying the holidays. The point is well made that although Christmas is about presents, your presence may be a gift alternative.

So, thoughts about running over the driver who beat you to the last parking spot at the mall, can become clouds afloat in your mind. Ask yourself, “how important is this?” and you will gain new perspective and see your anger drift away.

Once rid of those dark clouds, put some happy thoughts in your sky by repeating;

May I be happy. May I be well. May I be safe. May I be peaceful and at ease,

   Then send the message to others by replacing the I with you and say;

May you be happy. May you be well. May you be safe. May you be peaceful and at ease.

   Happy Holidays!

. . . . just saying

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Faulty Thinking

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                     “That the birds of worry and care fly over your head, this you cannot change.
                                      But that they build nests in your hair, this you can prevent.”

                                                                                                  Chinese proverb

   The fiftieth anniversary of JFK’s death, and the infringement on the Thanksgiving holiday by retail has me pondering. Yep, noodling, contemplating, and ruminating about life. Americans are busy shopping and have forgotten Kennedy’s words, “Ask not what your country can do for you, but what can you do for your country.”

What is happening in America?

Why trash Thanksgiving? There are 363 other days to shop.

Black Friday, I selected two ornaments hung on a community Christmas tree requesting gifts for children. The child’s name, age, item requested, and instructions, were typed on the paper Christmas bulb. Michael, a seventeen year old, hopes to receive earphones and Timber, a sixteen, pants and a top. Children’s Home Society of Florida sponsors the gift giving event.

I drove to Old Navy and selected several items for Timber, however, the line looked to be two or three hours long so left. People had wagons full of clothing.

What is happening to America?

We are not keeping up with the Jones, we are stepping over the poor, to bash the entire family on their heads.

Nevertheless, polls show people are more dissatisfied and most believe the next generation’s future is bleak. Fifty percent of Americans say “No!” when asked, “Are you better off than you were four years ago?”

Regan raised the question debating Carter in 1980 and won the presidency. Consequently, politicians and media believe the inquiry is a barometer on how to get elected. Unfortunately, Romney shot himself in the foot asking the question. The advertisement showed a white, most likely stay at home Mom, polishing a granite counter top, with custom drapes hanging in the dining room. The woman looked “better off” to me and definitely “better off” than others are. Guess it depends on defining better off, and who is to blame if you are not.

I call this faulty thinking. The focus is on who is at fault, not fixing problems.

Republicans smile and point their finger at entitlements. Democrats respond, “The people are starving,” and Republicans counter; “Let them eat cake.”

However, there is another type of faulty thinking that also is of concern, attaching events to the wrong outcome.

The Health Care debacle is a recent example of this type of thinking. Obama is to blame for a program that will not work and fingers point at him as not trustworthy because he said, “Americans will be able to keep their health care.” There is no mention of congress and insurance company foul play, talk about trustworthy.

I am reminded of a ten-year old who thinks his parents divorced because he did not floss his teeth. It is true his parents fought about his flossing, but they fought about everything. They had no resolution skills and did not get along and then there were the affairs.

Regardless, the kid never did floss, and now an adult suing his dentist because he has gum disease. Rumor is he is running for office and needs the money.

. . . .just saying

Tips From Readers

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GE DIGITAL CAMERA        Recycle Covers to Birthday Cards

Reader Tips

Aging & Attitude

   Ever struggle to untangle a knotty necklace wondering; how does this happen and chastising yourself for not being more careful? Well never again, Barbara Decker, a USA Weekend magazine  reader, has a tip;

   “To get a knot out of jewelry or untangle a fine necklace chain, pour table salt in a small saucer, drop the item in the salt and take a round toothpick and work out the knots by maneuvering the toothpick.”

To eliminate clutter, Peggy McDaniel’s of West Berlin, New Jersey, saves only the page instead of the entire catalog when your fingers do the shopping. Someone else suggested turning opened jars stored in the refrigerator up-sided down to allow air to circulate underneath the food extending its shelf life.

I thought the suggestions genius, and wondered about other reader tips I might be missing, so I went searching online and found some good advice.

Money Smart Family has a solution for removing carpet stains that resurface. Use a mixture of:

  • 2 ounces Hydrogen Peroxide (3% – brown bottle from drug store)
  • 1 ounce Dish Soap (blue original)

Instead of buying Windex type of window cleaners, they suggested using car windshield washer. It costs less than $2.00 for a gallon. Pour cleaner into a refillable spray bottle and save plastic.

Browsing travel tips I found this interesting comment about packing toilet paper when traveling internationally; “The roll will compress more if the inner tube is removed — an old backpacking trick!”

Other Travel Tips Worth Mention:

  • If you need directions, stop in at a pizza restaurant that delivers. The delivery people really know their local area.
  • Pack necklaces by threading them through a straw. Straws are an easy to come by at fast-food restaurants and coffeehouses.
  • Don Mankin from Venice suggestion; Bitters. I carry 3 ounces, which is excellent if you have flatulence on a plane. (Can we assume you drink the bitters?)

Here are my personal tips:

1. To make tearing plastic and foil wrap easy, secure the tube in place by pushing in the circles on both ends of the box.  Most boxes have this feature.

GE DIGITAL CAMERA      GE DIGITAL CAMERAGE DIGITAL CAMERA

2. Write down you license plate number and keep the information handy, preferably in your wallet. If your car is stolen or you forget where you parked, the police don’t have that information.

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3. Save the front of greeting cards and write a  note to loved ones or your grocery list.

4. Cut off the end of a mostly empty tube of hand cream to remove all  cream left in the container.

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  My favorite tip was about  apologizing, there was some real sound advice here. It never occurred to me that saying, “Sorry I’m late, traffic was heavy,” was not enough. A simple sorry is about the injurer and excuses, not the injured and their feelings. The best apology focuses on the other person and might say,”I’m sorry, you had to wait.”

In the past when Mr. Wonderful* was kept waiting I would say, “I’m sorry, it’s a bad hair day and nothing looked right, I changed outfits five times and then had to hang the stuff back up . . . it’s exhausting,”

It did not address his feelings, and he could not “let it go” and stayed angry.

Now I know. In the future, when I keep Mr. Wonderful waiting, will say something like, “I know my being late triggers your entire Catholic school experience, but that was more than fifty years ago. It’s 2013, get over it!

. . . just saying

*Mr Wonderful is my husband of forty-two years.

Where Were You on November 22, 1963?

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Aging & Attitude

I was in Windham Ashland Jewett high school opening up my locker, and Juliette Judd came running down the hall screaming, “the President has been shot, the President is dead!” There were thirty-five students in my freshman class and Juliette was one of them. My mother referenced the Judd family as uncouth, and her loud raucous behavior confirmed the label. She was scrawny, and had large protruding teeth and scraggly hair; a real character, but you had to love her. Her brother, Timmy Judd, taunted my brother, Victor, into daily after school fights at the Blue Moon Cafe. When I said to Victor, “Don’t go to the Blue Moon!” He answered, “Don’t be stupid.” This went on until Timmy Judd was beaten.

I remember following Juliette through the empty halls to the office where the silence was deafening, then riding the school bus home in quiet. The television remained on during the days that followed, and my younger brother, Matthew, sat hunched on the floor in front of the set to watch. Occasionally one of us older kids would adjust the rabbit ears for better viewing. On Monday, Matthew asked me to come with him to see what he had built. Outside the kitchen door were three crosses protruding from the soft November ground. I was fifteen and speechless but attempted to comfort the five-year old, thinking, If only I could.

This year marks the fiftieth anniversary of President Kennedy’s death and a 2013 AP poll shows more than 59% of those polled still believed more than one person was involved in the President’s murder.[7][8] 

“Turning Point” an AARP magazine article by Bob Schieffer, describes the assassination as the beginning of change. Schieffer defines the time as “the weekend America lost its innocence.” Where was Bob Schieffer on November 22, 1963? He was a twenty-six year-old reporter for his hometown paper, the Fort Worth Star-Telegram. Circumstances allowed him to interview the mother of Lee Harvey Oswald and the scoop pole-vaulted his journalistic career. It is an interesting article and the magazine invites readers to share personal accounts.

The focus for the past fifty years has been on why, where, who, and what, and the reason Kennedy went to Dallas pretty much forgotten. He never gave his speech to the Dallas Trade Mart and today the speech is called the  Unspoken Speech.

The speech exemplifies leadership and examines the country’s role in world peace and ends by saying;

   “My friends and fellow citizens: I cite these facts and figures to make it clear that America today is stronger than ever before. Our adversaries have not abandoned their ambitions, our dangers have not diminished, our vigilance cannot be relaxed. But now we have the military, the scientific, and the economic strength to do whatever must be done for the preservation and promotion of freedom.

   That strength will never be used in pursuit of aggressive ambitions — it will always be used in pursuit of peace. It will never be used to promote provocations — it will always be used to promote the peaceful settlement of disputes.

   We in this country, in this generation, are — by destiny rather than choice — the watchmen on the walls of world freedom. We ask, therefore, that we may be worthy of our power and responsibility, that we may exercise our strength with wisdom and restraint, and that we may achieve in our time and for all time the ancient vision of “peace on earth, good will toward men.” That must always be our goal, and the righteousness of our cause must always underlie our strength. For as was written long ago: ‘except the Lord keep the city, the watchman waketh but in vain’.”

Dallas never got to celebrate the President and struggled to honor his memory appropriately. Fortunately, two British expatriates, Cliff Simmn and Peter Wood, have taken on the task of helping the Dallas Community  remember the President with the Unspoken Speech Project. Seven films creatively capture the essence of Kennedy’s assassination on Dallas and the nation.

Sunday, November 10th.The National Geographic Channel will recognize the fiftieth anniversary with a film adaption of the book “Killing Kennedy” by Bill O’Reilly and Martin Dugards.

As the day approaches, we will all be remembering where we were.

. . . just saying

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Hillary and Christmas in September

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Aging & Attitude

   On Saturday I went into a big box store looking for soil and house plants, however; the Garden department had been transformed into the Christmas store. Red and green glitter and sparkles reflected off the hot Florida floor; the potting soil, discounted pots, cushions, and pillows were displaced outside. It was September 28th.

   I closed my eyes and kept walking, thinking of Hillary Clinton.   

   Hillary is on the cover of the September issue of New York magazine. Inside appears the article, “Hillary In Midair,” a lengthy discussion about what the Clintons are up to and the possibility of Hillary running in 2016. The family has gained popularity and all three work together in the family business, The Clinton Foundation. The Clinton Global Initiative America, a conference event focused on domestic issues, held in Chicago was Hillary’s first major public appearance since leaving the State Department.

   The author, Joe Hagan tactfully describes how she looked, in stark contrast to Bill’s aging; “she appeared much more youthful-smiling, upright, beaming in a turquoise pantsuit.”

   Joe never let on that she probably had work done. A woman in her place has to, especially if running for president. Joe quotes Hillary laughing to the press, “I’ve been successful at avoiding you people for many months!”

   Joe interviewed many people in “Clinton World” for the article and carefully distinguishes between who is saying what.  Her aides and husband say, “it is too soon and stop speculating.” The Ready for Hillary group believe she’s running, she just doesn’t know she is.

   Then there is the Huma Abedin situation. Abedin, wife of Anthony Weiner (famous for sexting) left Hillary, and returned to New York to accept a consulting contract with Tenco Holdings. The owner, Doug Band, is a Bill Clinton business associate. Some speculate it indicates Hillary is running, others perceive it as friend helping friend.  

   Here is where the Christmas in September comes into play. Hillary explains to Joe; “I’m not in any hurry, I think it’s a serious decision, not to be made lightly, but it’s also not one that has to be made soon. This election is more than three years away, and I just don’t think it’s good for the country.”

   Hillary than makes an analogy about talking to a person at a party who uninterested, and looking over your shoulder to see who else is there. She arrived too early. The anticipation is for someone else.

   That is how I feel about Christmas in September, it is not good for the country.  I am not ready for green sparkle and red glitter; and need time to figure how Santa will fit down the chimney. I relish the  orange-red leaves of Autumn and sweet smell of pumpkin, apple and mincemeat pie, the carving of the turkey.  

   Of course Hillary is running. It is her opportunity to make history, but first she is going to enjoy Thanksgiving.  

. . . just saying

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“What Is Next?”

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Aging & Attitude

   A reader inquired, “What’s after Z is for Zigzaggery?” It is a good question.

   The end of the Alphabet Series is an opportunity to take inventory and give “What’s next?” some thought.

   My first post, “Overactive What?” was published in October of 2011. Rereading the piece, I saw room for improvement but laughed. I have picked out some of my favorites: “GPS and Your Hippocampus”, and “We Fallen and Can’t Get Up”. You can find past posts under archives, if you click on a date. Please tell me your favorites.

   I started claudiajustsaying to acquire writing expertise, and planned to post every day, but quickly learned writing well was not easy. Writing is hard work and excruciating if you lose creativity. My challenge? I edit, or rewrite as I write, so it is a slow process and placing a comma a lengthy proposition. Reader comments and encouragement keep pushing me to transform a feeling experience to words.

   During the past two years, I have published ninety-five posts and acquired decent writing skills. To date I have 524 followers, views from over 83 countries, and was Freshly Pressed in August of 2012. Freshly Pressed is similar to being chosen prom queen; your post is featured on the Word Press Home Page. The results, over 1200 views, 97 comments and 87 likes on that day.

   What is next? Well . . . a return to my roots, or using personal experience to inspire a post, for example; getting dressed takes me forever. Because? I constantly put my bra on inside out, then wonder if other women struggle with this faux pas.  No one really wants to hear about my underwear, however the thought gnaws in my head.

 . . . . just saying

   P.S. I look forward to your comments and remember you can comment anonymously if you feel shy. Please click the like button if you enjoyed the post. Likes increase a bloggers status.

 

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Z is for Zigzaggery

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New Thoughts on Words

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Photography by Patrick Latter

 

Instead of writing about zucchini bread, I thought this up. It is zany….

Z is for Zigzaggery

Zig-zagging along through life

Swimming the course with zest and zeal

Then zap!

A  hand grenade is tossed in your lap

Swerve and sway, get out of the way

Make sharp turns and alterations

Zoom in the zone

Experience Zen . . . . aka; zero expectations

Duck and Dodge, or escape to other zip code destinations

Zigzaggery is not a trip to Zeeland, Zanzibar or a vacation

You are at a zoo, the zebra’s have lost their stripes and duck tape is the only salvation

Zigzaggery! 

Here on earth we call it life

. . . . just saying

l7c5645Patrick Latter’s picture, he used photography skill to create the zigzag picture at the top

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Y is for Yawn

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New Thoughts on Words

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Aging & Attitude

Conversation. . . is the art of never appearing a bore, of knowing how to say everything interestingly, to entertain with no matter what, to be charming with nothing at all  Guy de Maupassant

The Florida sun, hot and heavy on our heads and shoulders, does not dissuade us from sitting outdoors at Flagler Beachfront Winery. Late in the day, the sun will set behind the renovated “little blue building” and create shade soon. The owners Ken and Kelly planned it that way. Their tag line Come for the wine, stay for the view sums up the intent. Wine is made on site and customers buy wine by the glass or bottle, and order from a tapas menu of grilled flat breads with Brie & Prosciutto or Artichoke and tapenade, to name a few of the food choices. Select grapes from Ken’s 100 acre organic family farm in Ohio, and other vineyards around the country, are used to make their label Beachfront Wine. Ken and Kelly are working owners and a four-year old son is under foot.

Mr. Wonderful, my husband of 42 years, places our order, and we get comfortable for the view. I chat away about what I cannot remember and Mr. Wonderful yawns. A big yawn and uses both hands to cover his wide-open mouth, “I must be tired after playing golf in this heat.”

I think nothing about it and continue, picking up for his lack of participation, when he turns his head distracted by the conversation at the next table. He is not listening to a word.

“Am I a yawn? A bore.”

Yawn is an involuntary reaction to fatigue or boredom.

Since even I cannot remember what I was saying,  conclude the conversation is tedious, monotonous, humdrum, and ho-hum.

“How do you keep the music playing?”  A Tony Bennett song, creeps into my head.

What to talk about?

Weather is a safe topic, changes every day, but unless you are a meteorologist, discussing rain only takes a few minutes.

Politics, World News?  Both seem risky. That leaves us with humor.

So I say to Mr. Wonderful, “Did you remember to take the garbage out?”

….just saying

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X is for X Marks the Spot

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New Thoughts on Words

X_Marks_the_Spot_FilmPoster

Aging & Attitude

   We are familiar with the expression, X marks the spot, used to reference lost treasure on a map, and the signature line on important documents. There is even a film by the name X Marks the Spot . The story concerns a newspaper reporter indebted to a gangster for raising the money to save his little girl’s life.

   In the computer age, however, the X of concern appears in the upper right corner of unwanted advertisements and pop-ups and nearly caused me a nervous breakdown on Friday.

   The nightmare begins when I log on to Word-Press to edit my next post, and a Shutterfly advertisement appears across the top of the work page. I had opened an account the previous evening, to compile a photo birthday book for my granddaughter, Alexandria. I think it is  pretty nervy of them, and feel overwhelmed, as more ads and pops up appear blocking my screen vision and ability to type. The dominant pop-up is an upgrade browser for Firefox.  and I attempt to upgrade, but cannot,  because VIPRE, identifies it as a bad file. I X out of every ad, but they immediately pop open again.   Are you following this?

   Let me recap; I cannot use my computer because I do not have the upgrade that Firefox requests and VIPRE is blocking the file.

   What to do? Call iyogi with whom I have a contract.

   After about an hour, iyogi detects 68 infractions using Malwarebytes.

   “How can that happen?”  I ask. Two days ago, I purchased VIPRE, an upgrade antivirus and firewall.

   The technician’s reply, “Madame, such infractions can only be avoided by purchasing Windows 8. “Madame would you like me to do that now.”

   Tension comes between us when I accuse him of trying to sell something. He is indignant at the suggestion and adamant that he is not a salesperson.

   I had Windows 7 three days ago. and no pop-ups or advertisements.

   What is different?  I opened a Shutterfly account, and switched to VIPRE.

   When the air clears and the infractions, cookies and temporary files removed, I make the mistake of commenting, I thought my computer  was  scheduled to do fragmenting, etc. and would check the settings.

   “Madame I can help you with that. There is a program, Keylogger, that will do all of that for you. Would you like me to install it now?” Said the tech.

   I politely answered, “No thank you.”

   “Madame, you simply do not understand how computers are working.” He persists.

   I get off phone saying, “My husband is in the kitchen waiting for me to cook dinner.”

   That he understands.

   Truth is, Mr. Wonderful cooks dinner.

   I question my decision to pay for and install VIPRE and phone to cancel the anti-virus program.  The purchase is within thirty days, so there is no problem.

   Next I download free versions of Malwaybytes and turn Windows firewall back on.

   Through this laborious process pop-ups continue and even appear in LinkedIn when I post my blog.  I tell Shutterfly to close my account. They do.

   The pop-ups and advertisements continue flying across my screen. I run a total scan a second time and have 68 new infractions, all the same from address,  pup.optional.conduit A.

   Yelling “I’m going to have a nervous break-down”  I type, What is pup-optional conduit A? in the search bar and have my answer. X marks the spot.

   PUP.Optional.Conduit.A is very dangerous malware that invades into user computer without taking their permission. This PUP.Optional.Conduit.A also results in messing up the entire computer system by displaying unwanted and fake ads. This potentially unwanted program used to slip into random computers through a series of channels, like freeware downloads, spam e-mail attachments, hacked websites etc. PUP.Optional.Conduit.A using malware to block anti-virus programs. PUP.Optional.Conduit.A can change the existing registry entries, and create the new corrupt entries so that it can launch itself each time you open the windows. Since this nasty threat is very dangerous and it unnoticed. It is strongly recommended to remove PUP.Optional.Conduit.A as soon as possible to prevent further damage from it.  (Instructions on how to remove this dangerous malware on Firefox can be found here.)

   Reading  about antivirus programs , I learn malware does a different kind of damage and Malwarebytes is not an antivirus program. I remove Malwarebytes and reinstalled VIPRE as a trial member.  Now I’m using VIPRE firewall, malware and antivirus programs. 

   This morning I run a full scan using VIPRE and remove 6 files that are of moderate risk, one of which is some sort of conduit toolbar. I have no pop-ups or advertisements yet, however I am soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  confused. Help!

….just saying

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W is for Wheels of Circumstance

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New Thoughts on Words

cityrama-tours

Aging & Attitude

In 1966, during college orientation, we were instructed to look to our left, then to our right, and told one of us would not graduate. The glaring statistic stimulated conversation. Vera, on my right, was from Long Island, and had an unfamiliar accent. She escaped from Hungary as a child and remembered running across the border grasping her mother’s hand. I was watching Betty Boop cartoons while she was chased by Russians. Her experience stayed with me and is incorporated in my fiction story, “Wheels of Circumstance”, published In Florida Writers Association Collection, Volume Four.

Wheels of Circumstance

   Mama and I press our bodies flat against the frigid ground and pray the wheels do not stop. A gloved finger to her lips tells me what I intuitively know: we are in danger, and a disturbance may reveal our presence.

   The day is crisp; the strong sun’s reflection on clean snow hinders our vision. I am a fawn watching a doe’s movement frozen by headlights, mirroring the behavior.  Mama’s fudge colored eyes wide and alert do not move while her lashes flitter. 

   The wheels stop not by choice, but by circumstance. They rotate in the mud clockwise many times. When the engine shifts gear, the wheels twirl counterclockwise so fast, the steel spokes blur together. The vehicle, encumbered in mud, stalls and several soldiers jump out. I tremble, and see only soldiers’ feet in heavy boots with metal toes from where I am lying. I close my eyes at the thought of a soldier lifting his leg to kick me.

    The engine restarts and the uniformed men study the wheels as they spin again. The puddle gets deeper, a chocolate cesspool, and goop splashes, dirtying my face.  I watch two soldiers shift metal guns slung on their backs, and ready themselves to shove the vehicle from behind as a driver yells in a foreign language that reeks of anger. The noise muffles the sounds I do not make.

    The soldiers rock the truck, making the ditch bigger, and the wheels more trapped. The engine cuts out leaving a quiet sound. The driver jumps out of the cab enraged, a semiautomatic gun raised above his head, and shoots into the air and around the tires. 

   Mama rolls her body on mine, secures my mouth shut with her hand to muffle any sound, and listens to an approaching noise, another vehicle.

   The soldiers, who were pushing the pick-up yell, punch the driver and point to a deflated tire, as the second truck comes to a halt.  

   With chains and shovels, the angry team of men release the truck from the muck, and afterwards shove and slap each other in good cheer at the success of their efforts.

   I start to cry when they drive off.

   It is November 4, 1956 and what started as a birthday lunch at the University with Papa is the Hungarian Revolution.

   In the morning, we sleep late and dress leisurely for the special day.  I wear my favorite navy blue taffeta dress. Mama insists I wear leggings with my green winter coat adorned by gold buttons and a velvet collar, a matching headscarf tied under my chin. The leggings have inside zippers.

   Mamma wears a camel wrap coat and a fake fur hat.

   My birthday gift is a white rabbit muff with a cord I loop around my neck making certain it is not lost. I skip to the 9:45AM train to Budapest and nestle my hands inside my birthday gift,  occasionally, fluffing the rabbit fur on the ride.

   We arrive an hour later, and when we step down from the train, the crowd is noisy and the station disorganized. People run in different directions and change course unexpectedly. Papa is at the exit gate not at the University. He whispers in Mama’s ear after their kiss and her eyes droop in disgust. Papa grabs me in a birthday hug that lifts me off the ground and smiles his million-dollar smile.

   There is a “change in plan” goes the conversation between tickles to my chin and behind my ears. Mama and I are to take the train to Austria; Aunt Marion will greet us for a Birthday Holiday. Papa will come on the weekend. Mama’s eyes continually question his prediction. I am happy with the promise.   

   We get back on the train. Papa hands us a bag lunch and an envelope with Aunt Marion’s address and spending money. We wave from the window not knowing it is for the last time.

   Mama reads a newspaper on the train, turning the pages quickly and with tears in her eyes. “Who is Aunt Marion? Do I know Aunt Marion?” I ask of her.

   “Aunt Marion is Papa’s relative, really a cousin. I have not met her either. It will be nice . . . I think. Yes, Trudy it will be nice. Now close your eyes and rest, we have a busy day.”

   Near the Austria-Hungary border, the train stops, empties, and people are rude and loud.

   “Is everyone on holiday, Mama?”

   “Well, it seems…” and Mama holds my hand with intensity.  “Let me ask for directions,” she says and approaches the conductor now standing on the platform. I cannot hear but watch heads nodding and shaking.  Mama continues walking tentatively and then with determination.

   “I am going to call Aunt Marion and see if she knows another way.”

    Mama deposits several coins in a pay phone, and engages in a speedy conversation.

   Smiling Mama says, “Sure enough, Trudy, we can follow the road and cut through the pasture. It will be fun and faster, maybe we’ll see a deer.”   

   Our walk is interrupted by the sound of Soviet tanks, trucks, and gunfire. Mama pulls us down behind tall grass brushed with snow. We listen, hidden until the sounds of people screaming and crying disappear.

   Mama explains. “Mean people are invading our country and we must leave, for now. Papa will talk with them. It will be fine. We will cut through the meadow, and cross the border to meet Aunt Marion. She told me the way.”

   That was before circumstance and the mud. Now Mama’s eyes close and there is blood on her coat. The fake fur hat sits crooked on her head surrounded by brunette hair curled for my celebration and I grow up fast within these seconds.

    “Trudy, run ahead and tell Aunt Marion I stopped to rest.” Her soft words linger as she hands me the envelope and struggles to say, “She will help us. Run like the wind and do not look back.”

   I kneel beside Mama. “Let me stay Mama, you need help, let me stay.” My words hang small and meaningless in the air.

   Mama opens her eyes, “Gertrude Zimmerman, stop your silliness, listen to your Mama, go find Aunt Marion.  Run… I’ll see you in. . . .

   I finish her sentence, “Heaven.”

   The sounds of wheels stay connected to the loss of Mama, her love buried in my memories.

 

….just saying