Siggy's Blurbs: Siggy's Edge of Country …

I shuddered when I saw my Mom’s photograph.  As far as I can tell it was a photograph taken in the cemetery when my father died.  She was this grim looking woman who had a long brimmed black hat on and steadied herself with a cane.  When I viewed this photograph again, she had been dead nine years.  I had forgotten about her.  How crazy she really was.  She tried to control Dad with all her illnesses she was always complaining about.  He resisted this.  She was hard to get away from.  When I was a child and young adult, I had no choice.  I could not get away from her.  Her fears and anxieties ran her life and those around her.  I had forgotten her and how nuts she truly was and how incredibly controlling she was.  And she was viewed sane.  I saw this first hand.  The photograph of her brought back all these negative feelings about her.  It is a terrible thing to say:  she was my Mother but part of me was glad to get rid of her.  There is so much, though, you can discard.  I can only escape her to a certain degree.  I know part of her is in me.  And I am aware I still owed her a debt.  There were traits she transmitted to me I am glad to have.  It took a long time to shed parts of her I wanted to.  And some I never will.

Tags: anxiety, cane, cemetery, complaining, controlling woman, crazy, father, fear, fears and anxieties, illness, mother, negative feelings, photograph
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They almost did not make it on time:  She had gotten in the wrong lane and drove four miles unnecessarily.  They finally got to the carnival and she bought her excited kid a balloon.  The helium balloon was silver and quickly became a refugee.  It escaped her child’s grasp when she was jostled in a crowd.  The four year old was crying so hard she was trembling.  There would be hell to pay.  Her mother had been bamboozled and hounded by a salesperson who had tenaciously assured her, her kid would not lose the antler shaped balloon if she tied it to her pinkie.  Soon the balloon soared in the sky quickly became ant like in the sky.

Her Mom complained of her loss to that pretentious salesman stationed at his desk in his cranberry velvet suit.  He was the quintessential quick talker who knew how sacred her kid’s balloon was.  He explained to the bawling child the synchronicity of all balloons.  Of course not in those words, but said all balloons were born in the sky and when they were released they returned home.  He gave the child a torn velvet clothed doll to calm her down.

The kid left him clutching her doll tightly to her chest.  She had quite an adventure today.

Tags: adventure, all balloons born in the sky, all balloons go to Heaven, balloon, balloons returned home, carnival, four year old child, God, helium balloon, her child, lost balloon, mother, quick talker, salesman, short story, synchronicity, velvet clothed doll, writers, writing
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It is never too late to start a new tradition with your kids.  It still remains to be seen if it turns out to be a new tradition but I remain hopeful.

I never saw my two kids at Christmas time.  I was divorced since 2002 and I never remember seeing them then.  It was always a painful time for me.  I was always reminded my two kids lived with their Mom.

Last night I had my two kids over for Hanukkah (I am Jewish, too).  I decided to celebrate Hanukkah and Christmas early last night.  Hanukkah is eight days long and my “window” is much larger to see them.

I made potato latkes (potato pancakes) and cheesecake cupcakes for dinner for them and my wife.  We exchanged Christmas presents.  It was a pleasant evening and gave me hope that I might have started a new tradition.

The holidays were always a “hard” time for me.  It is never too late to start a new tradition.

Tags: cheesecake, Christmas, Christmas presents, cupcakes, dinner, divorce, eight days, Hanukkah, holidays, Jewish, mother, my kids, my wife, painful time, potato latkes, potato pancakes, start a new tradition
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It is no accident that all of us (my two sisters and I) garden.  It all started in my mother’s garden.  It was such a small garden but what an “oasis”.  She had all kinds of beautiful flowers.  I never forgot those deep red roses she had.

That does not even include our fig tree (I mourn its death), the biggest blackberries I have ever seen and the white grape vine she could not kill and finally gave up.

Even after decades I can almost visualize that garden.  Everything started there.  That does not even include the vegetables she raised.  Years later I became a produce clerk.

My appreciation of beauty started in that garden.  She introduced me to God there.  This is such a short essay.  I can not even begin to state the impact of her garden had on on my life even long after she moved from there (I must say reluctantly).

She has been dead seven years and it has been decades since I left that garden but its impact can still be felt today.

I still love looking at flowers and this year I planted eight tomato plants in pots.  I used to think that New Jersey had the best tomatoes in the whole world.  (Yes, I forgot to mention we also had tomatoes in that garden.)

There is so much I have to thank Mom for the garden she tended so carefully and lovingly.  This is such an incomplete list but I have to start somewhere.  Thank you Mom, for introducing me to flowers (and figs and so many other things).  Thank you, Mom, and may you rest in peace.

Tags: beauty, blackberries, fig tree, flowers, garden, gardener, gardening, God, Mom, mother, my mother's garden, New Jersey, oasis, produce clerk, red roses, rest in peace, thank Mom, thank-you, tomatoes, vegetables, white grape vine
Posted in beauty, death, flowers, God, knowledge&learning, life, love, nature, relationships, seasons, time, wisdom | 2 Comments »