I have been thinking a lot about this blog lately. Trying to figure out if I should keep trying to maintain it, or maybe start a different and more focused one. Or maybe sift through some of the old posts and clear out those that no longer really apply to my life (like my fascination with Wildtree that's long passed!). I decided to go back and read some of my early posts -- especially the ones I've flagged as favorites -- to see if I could get inspired one way or another. (By the way, if you have any opinions about the future of 'Round the Kitchen Table, please leave a comment below or contact me).
Reading The Philosophy of Nicholas and Sarah put a smile on my face. With my daughter graduating from college in a month, it seemed timely to repost it. So for all you young graduates to be out there, this little story is my gift to you. In my opinion, the "philosophy" has stood the test of time, as the words are as true today as they were 26 years ago. There's no great magic to it. You have a choice when you wake up every day -- just be happy!
Without further delay....The Philosophy of Nicholas and Sarah (originally posted February 19, 2009).
Did you ever notice that there are some people who have these incredible memories? They remember names, faces, dates, and things like how much they paid for their first car. Those people amaze me, and in truth I'm kind of envious of them for having that treasure trove of memories in their brains.
Over the years I've learned to accept the fact that my memory is pretty bad -- with the exception of those things that I remember like they were yesterday. Like family vacations to Cape May every summer -- and the amazing smell when you walked off the boardwalk into Morrow's Nut House. Or the night I met my husband at The Cask in Boston. Or the time I tripped going up onto the stage to be the magician's assistance at the Knights of Columbus Family Party.
Incredibly vivid memories -- every one of them. But there is one memory I have that I truly believe was a defining moment in my life.
It was spring of my senior year of college, and I was struggling with the "big question" about what I was supposed to do with my life. One of my roommates (and best friend), Michelle and I, decided to go to my parents' house one Sunday afternoon -- probably to do laundry. It was one of the first nice days of spring, and we were sitting in the driveway at my parents' house talking about life and trying to find the answer to the "big question."
The little neighbor girl (whose name I don't remember, so we'll just call her Sarah) was out playing in her yard with her younger brother, Nicholas. Sarah may have been 4 or 5 years old -- and when she saw us in the driveway, she came skipping over to us all giggly and grinning. Nicholas toddled along behind with sticky fingers, a runny little nose (you know the kind that makes bubbles when you breathe) and an enormous one-year old grin. You could tell he just adored his sister as he teetered behind her trying to keep his balance.
"Hello! What's you're name?" Sarah asked when she got to our driveway. Nicholas just grinned and came over and climbed into my lap.
Michelle and I introduced ourselves, then proceeded to talk to Sarah about all the things that a 5-year old wants to talk about -- dolls, butterflies, clouds, pigtails, pierced ears and the like. Nicholas just kept grinning and occasionally would reach up and touch my nose with his filthy little fingers.
All of the sudden, Sarah just stopped talking, and she stood up and looked at her brother, then she looked at us and said, "Nicholas is a cutie pie, and I just wanna hug him." And she did, right there and then she hugged her brother, and the two of them giggled like crazy.
It wasn't a minute later that she said goodbye and took off back to her yard, and Nicholas tried to keep up behind her.
Michelle and I sat in the driveway laughing about how adorable the two of them were. They didn't have a care in the world, and the most important thing was just being together, making friends and being happy.
"You know, Lol*, " Michelle said to me, "That's what it's all about. Right there -- that's the secret to life -- just be happy."
We sat silently in the driveway for a few minutes and digested the words -- both of us realizing that plain and simple truth.
The ride back to Muhlenberg that night was an easy one. All the stress of trying to answer "the big question" was gone, and we just laughed each time one of us would mimic little Sarah's words, "Nicholas is a cutie pie, and I just wanna hug him."
I may still be trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up, but fortunately Nicholas and Sarah taught us the best philosophy of life -- just be happy.
*Note: Lol is a nickname I've had since I was a child. My nieces & nephews call me Lolly...and someday I hope my grandkids will call me Lolly and my husband Pop. The nickname came long before LOL meant Laugh Out Loud...but I'm pretty pleased with that acronym. :)
April 10, 2013
April 9, 2013
In the shadow of the passing of Lilly Pulitzer, you might think by title that this post would be about her -- but no, it's about my little Easter Lilly.
It's been a long-standing tradition in my home that Jeff brings me a Lilly in the days before Easter. I love Easter lillies -- everything about them -- the purity of color, the fragrance, and mostly the way they seem to open up and trumpet in celebration of Jesus' resurrection.
|photo from Google images|
This year, when Jeff brought her home for me on Easter Saturday, she stood tall, with six buds ready to burst. Glorious!
As always, she was given a position of prominence in the kitchen window where surely we would enjoy her magnificent blooms. Sadly, in the days that followed, we watched as she began to bow down under the weight of her trumpet blossoms, until one day we found her laying on her side -- some dirt from her flower pot spilled onto the sill.
I tried to prop her up by leaning her against a window box vase, but still she just collapsed -- her stem too frail to hold herself upright. That didn't stop her from blooming though, as one by one the buds opened up beautifully!
Now almost a week and a half later, I'm encouraged to see that after a week of leaning -- she can stand a little on her own without toppling over.
Looking at her today I felt a little tug at my heart. I can't help but wonder if Lilly isn't trying to tell me something. We all need room to grow -- in our own time and at our own pace. There will be times when we'll stand upright -- confident and ready for what the world has in store for us. There will be times when we stumble and fall and we'll need to lean on a friend.
Through it all, may we never forget to bow our heads and pray...just like little Lilly.
It's About life