Mirror Image

Mirror Image

March 17, 2008

            His red tank top partially covered the sweaty brown body hair curling on his back.    He wore beltless jean shorts and brown leather sandals.  His wife's white t-shirt carelessly hung over her navy shorts.  Her sandals were white.  They sat before me dressed for a day at the beach.  We were not at the beach.  We were in church.

            A trip to an airport recently proved that, as my husband would often say, some people's homes seem to be a mirror deprived.  I stood in the line with a young woman wearing her flannel pajama bottoms, which I noted seems to be quite common wearing apparel.  Her companion had on baggy sweats and dirty white tennis shoes.  Total comfort seems to override good taste.  Dress has a moral effect upon the conduct of mankind.  It is the table of your contents.

            Several years ago I prepared to attend my granddaughter's graduation from medical school.  I carefully selected an appropriate dress and shoes for this special occasion.  Not to worry.  The ladies in front of me wore jeans.  Ultra casual dress seems to be the common rule.

            While working in a doctor's office some time ago, I was impressed with an elderly woman who came for her appointment accompanied by her daughter.  It was obvious that the mother had taken great care to wear one of her better dresses and stockings.  She completed her outfit with a matching little hat.  She probably dressed with just as much care even going to the grocery store.  It was proper to her.

            I have read that dressing is an art, a means of self-expression.  It is a reflection of the respect you have for your body.  A simple necklace gives the impression that a person cares.  When one is neatly dressed, self-confidence seems to be boosted and good behavior follows naturally.

            Fetch me a mirror.

Joanne Murray is my cousin.  She sent me a book her son made for her 75th Birthday.  It contained essays that Joanne had written.  In the interest of bias, I am definitely biased so let's get that out of the way.  But once you and I get passed my bias you come to realize as I have that these essays are something very special especially to her family and THAT IS THE POINT.  As I read them the one of many thoughts that crept into my mind was "why haven't I been doing this?"  Why indeed!  These are thoughts of a daughter, a granddaughter, a mother, a wife, a cousin (like in my case), an aunt etc.  Most who will read these essays have that in common with Joanne.  There are people you know who might enjoy knowing what you think and what experiences you have been exposed to.  Wouldn't it be nice if you let them know by writing them down as my cousin Joanne has done.  It's never too late to get started.  I will be posting them here about one a week and do so with Joanne's permission.  Hope you keep coming back.  Leave your comments below.    Jim "Gymbeaux" Brown

Happiness

HAPPINESS

January 16, 2006

I woke up happy and for several seconds felt healthy and carefree.  In the lives of the saddest of us there are bright days when we feel we could take the world in our arms.  That was my feeling.  Then I felt guilt-how could I be happy?  I'm not ready.  I'm still mourning but the feeling stayed a while, and I knew my day would be good.

            What is happiness?  I shared my euphoric feeling with my son Kevin.  He believes happiness is what you feel when you are very young-before you have a thought process and are able to put words together.  It is a natural feeling and how you are supposed to feel.

            A baby cannot think in sentences and doesn't know true unhappiness.  He develops that as he ages.  Kevin gave as an example his one-year-old granddaughter, Emma.  He and his wife, Ellen, love to take her out to eat-they know she is the cutest baby in the restaurant.  He tells me her huge blue eyes evoke smiles and doting from all the waitresses (so they tell me).  Emma loves to look around at people and tries to get their attention.  She is especially drawn to other children and stares at them, smiles and makes little screaming noises until they look at her.

            Lately she has learned to look at them, say hi, raise her little hand and curl her fingers in a wave.  She is truly happy.  But as she gets older she will learn that she must face adversity to learn how to be happy.

            Happiness has many definitions-joy, delight, contentment and well-being.  Sometimes we have to look hard to find it.  Our park has a large white gazebo built on top of a small hill amid a field of grass.  The area surrounding the field is edged with trees donated in memory of departed loved ones.  A small bronze plaque noting the deceased's name is placed in front of each tree.  A beautiful rainbow of flowers circles the gazebo where walking stones form a random path.  As you step inside and turn, the overwhelming view seems to fly across the city of Sharon into the horizon beyond.  One day, my husband and I packed some sandwiches and sat in the gazebo in contended silence as we appreciated the solace of this quiet heaven.  Sometimes things are so beautiful you want to share them with everyone.

            Pieces of happiness are all around us.  We only need to open our eyes.

            (An aside-if I walked around with a cell phone I would miss many moments of happiness.)

Joanne Murray is my cousin.  She sent me a book her son made for her 75th Birthday.  It contained essays that Joanne had written.  In the interest of bias, I am definitely biased so let's get that out of the way.  But once you and I get passed my bias you come to realize as I have that these essays are something very special especially to her family and THAT IS THE POINT.  As I read them the one of many thoughts that crept into my mind was "why haven't I been doing this?"  Why indeed!  These are thoughts of a daughter, a granddaughter, a mother, a wife, a cousin (like in my case), an aunt etc.  Most who will read these essays have that in common with Joanne.  There are people you know who might enjoy knowing what you think and what experiences you have been exposed to.  Wouldn't it be nice if you let them know by writing them down as my cousin Joanne has done.  It's never too late to get started.  I will be posting them here about one a week and do so with Joanne's permission.  Hope you keep coming back.  Leave your comments below.    Jim "Gymbeaux" Brown

A Little Thing

A LITTLE THING

(No date)

            He is a pro water skier.  His sponsor has sent him all over the world for tournaments.  He has endured many successes and some heartbreaking disappointments in his competitions.  But he knows this comes with the choice he has made in his life.  He is my grandson Billy.

            This time, he and his mother traveled to a tournament about three hours from his home.  The areas by the lakes are always filled with parents, friends and many fans.  Also, a food stand, plus kiosk to purchase promotional t-shirts and other small items related to water-skiing.

            He waited in the water behind the boat, stretches his trademark white headband over his hair and waits for his signal.  He has a good start but falls early in the run and therefore doesn't qualify for a last pass.  When this happens, his mother has learned to quietly wait in the car for him and not say anything.  There is nothing that will soothe him; he just has to suffer through the disappointed feeling and move on.  Usually, after an hour, the mod gently lifts, and he slowly berated himself.  He forgets the times he has been so successful.

            But now his head is up and he hops into the car beside her with a slight smile on his face.  She waits for him to speak.  He talks a little about the tournament.  He hesitates a minute then says, "I was getting out of the water and feeling so embarrassed and disappointed at how badly I did, and this little boy was waiting for me with a pen in his hand.  He asked me for my autograph and headband.  When I signed his paper and gave him my headband, he was so happy.  I thought, why should I complain.  I am doing what I love.  How can I be so selfish? "  Another minute passed and he quietly said, "I wish I had been nicer to him."

            That boy will never know how much he did for Billy that day.  Tremendous consequences come from little things - a chance word, a tap on the shoulder or a smile prove "there are no little things."

Gymbeaux Note:  It was from this one essay that I had the impulse to name this blog, "No Little Things".

Joanne Murray is my cousin.  She sent me a book her son made for her 75th Birthday.  It contained essays that Joanne had written.  In the interest of bias, I am definitely biased so let's get that out of the way.  But once you and I get passed my bias you come to realize as I have that these essays are something very special especially to her family and THAT IS THE POINT.  As I read them the one of many thoughts that crept into my mind was "why haven't I been doing this?"  Why indeed!  These are thoughts of a daughter, a granddaughter, a mother, a wife, a cousin (like in my case), an aunt etc.  Most who will read these essays have that in common with Joanne.  There are people you know who might enjoy knowing what you think and what experiences you have been exposed to.  Wouldn't it be nice if you let them know by writing them down as my cousin Joanne has done.  It's never too late to get started.  I will be posting them here about one a week and do so with Joanne's permission.  Hope you keep coming back.  Leave your comments below.    Jim "Gymbeaux" Brown

Senior Enthusiasm

SENIOR ENTHUSIASM

July 20, 2009

            I sat at the rehearsal with my box of tickets and moneybag.  My responsibility for the Senior Follies is to appear at the beginning of rehearsals to pass out tickets to each cast member.  After they sell them, the money is turned over to me to record.  I am enchanted by the devotion and energy the dancers and singers emote, so I frequently stay for the entire rehearsal.  Even a dancer's wrong step adds to the uniqueness of the show.

            Each year, the Follies seems to improve.  The theme this year is "Happy Days," with music and songs from the 60's and 70's.  The dancers proudly tap, jitterbug and do the Twist.

            As I watched, one of the dance ladies sat next to me.  She refused to reveal her age, but said she was 90+ years old.  She was a very tall, attractive, agile, gray haired woman and very outspoken.  She studied the dancers for a while, leaned over to me and, in her hard of hearing whisper, said, "Look at her dance.  She's not doing the Twist.  You're suppose to move your feet."

            One of the younger 50+ ladies mouthed to her, "You don't know everything."

            "What do you mean I don't know?" I learned the twist watching Chubby Checker.  Where do you come off telling me that?  You're just a newcomer.  I've been here a lot longer than you."

            "Everyone has their own way to twist," the 50+ answered and turned her head.

            I cringed and looked straight ahead as I attempted to look innocent as this exchange went on.

            The show rehearsal carried on, unaware of this drama.

            Several minutes later, 90+ again turned to me.  "That lady over there has been dancing for 5 years.  Wouldn't you think she would lose some weight?"

            I followed her eyes to a lovely 60+ over-weight woman, tapping and following everyone else perfectly.  She had a beautiful face and soft blue eyes.  Again I cringed.

            "You know, she has a terrible personality," 90+ loudly whispered again.  "When we get dressed for the show, she never talks to us.  Just stays on the other side of the dressing room and won't mingle at all."

            Cringe #3.  I took another look at this 60+ woman and imagined her in the dressing room, maybe embarrassed about her weight, hoping no one was watching her as she changed her clothes.  Possibly by talking, she felt attention would be drawn to her.  I saw a smile on her face as she danced.  She did not fit the picture 90+ painted.

            90+ left her chair to return to practice her number.  I smiled as she got in line, ready to prove her agility.

            I continued watching the show from my chair, tapping my feet and swinging my body to the tempo of the music.  Nothing is as contagious as enthusiasm.

Joanne Murray is my cousin.  She sent me a book her son made for her 75th Birthday.  It contained essays that Joanne had written.  In the interest of bias, I am definitely biased so let's get that out of the way.  But once you and I get passed my bias you come to realize as I have that these essays are something very special especially to her family and THAT IS THE POINT.  As I read them the one of many thoughts that crept into my mind was "why haven't I been doing this?"  Why indeed!  These are thoughts of a daughter, a granddaughter, a mother, a wife, a cousin (like in my case), an aunt etc.  Most who will read these essays have that in common with Joanne.  There are people you know who might enjoy knowing what you think and what experiences you have been exposed to.  Wouldn't it be nice if you let them know by writing them down as my cousin Joanne has done.  It's never too late to get started.  I will be posting them here about one a week and do so with Joanne's permission.  Hope you keep coming back.  Leave your comments below.    Jim "Gymbeaux" Brown

Nature's Way

Nature's Way

August 3, 2009

            The peaceful, rhythmic noise awakes me.  I think it is the sound of my ceiling fan but realize it is something else.  It is rain!  I close my eyes for a few moments as the rain plays its soft, pleasant tune.  I go to my back porch to just stand there to savor the feeling it gives me.  The singing of frequent rain sometimes suggests mournful music.

            I love a morning that seems to promise a full day of steady, beautiful rain.  It means I have no outside responsibilities.  I can wrap myself in anything I want to do.  It beckons a day of reading and catching up with myself.  I might sort the miscellaneous pile of papers by my computer just waiting for organization.  I can open my closet door and just stare inside for a few minutes.  Maybe I can sort my jewelry or start a Goodwill bag.  Maybe I can place my pictures into separate piles for my children.  I always stall at a box of my mother's old black and white pictures and lament the fact that there is no one here any longer to identify who some of these strangers are.  Maybe I can study them longer and find a resemblance to someone in my family.

            Recently, I received a forward on my email called "Rain."  It started with a view of about 60 people placed in rows on a stage.  There was silence.  Then the conductor waved to a small group as they raised their arms and softly clicked their fingers to the sound of starting rain.  Slowly, he led them all to a heavier rain as more fingers clicked.  This went on for about a minute-the sound of rain from the heavens, nature watering the earth.  Then spotlights flashed on and off as the clickers jumped on their bleachers, producing the sound of thunder to the occasional "lightening."  As the lights stopped the clicking gradually eased and slowed to soft calming end.  I played it again with my eyes closed and felt embraced by the illusory perfect rainfall.  Editor's Note.  The group is called Perpetuum Jazzile, singing Africa.  Great performance.   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yjbpwlqp5Qw

            Now back to my morning.  Nature has started my day.  I will happily allow the remaining hours to let things just happen.   

Joanne Murray is my cousin.  She sent me a book her son made for her 75th Birthday.  It contained essays that Joanne had written.  In the interest of bias, I am definitely biased so let's get that out of the way.  But once you and I get passed my bias you come to realize as I have that these essays are something very special especially to her family and THAT IS THE POINT.  As I read them the one of many thoughts that crept into my mind was "why haven't I been doing this?"  Why indeed!  These are thoughts of a daughter, a granddaughter, a mother, a wife, a cousin (like in my case), an aunt etc.  Most who will read these essays have that in common with Joanne.  There are people you know who might enjoy knowing what you think and what experiences you have been exposed to.  Wouldn't it be nice if you let them know by writing them down as my cousin Joanne has done.  It's never too late to get started.  I will be posting them here about one a week and do so with Joanne's permission.  Hope you keep coming back.  Leave your comments below.    Jim "Gymbeaux" Brown