Serendipity

an acrostical photo-filled musing

I’m currently jamming out to the Sr. soundtrack. (A highly recommended watch. Very relatable to offspring who had larger-than-life parent(s) with drug and alcoholic vices.)

N.E. and mother, amidst another awkward attempt at bonding, a couple years before she passed. Family photo.

Doing what I do best, avoiding all things the adult me should be tackling. Instead I sit here, head bobbing, mentally dazzled (yet again; a self-induced state of utter astonishment) by the realization the whole summer lays out in front of me.

No road to follow. Hell, not even the hint of a path. I head to KC soon, to pick up dearest Deborah Kristina. We plan on Thelma and Louising it this summer, traveling about wherever we please. Well, as far as my meager funds will allow. (Okay. After reading a synopsis of the plot of said movie, we will hopefully do so without any violence or tragic ending…)

My mind contentedly drifts. Still in awe my plan actually worked. Beyond my wildest hopes, in fact. Luck? Na. That’s not quite the word I’d use. Hmm…

Screenshot of definition of serendipity. Source.

Isn’t that life, really? It’s often in times of greatest tragedy when we notice the smallest serendipitous thing. We cling to it. Amplifying the most trivial into a life-altering sign. Or just relishing the wow factor.

What follows is an acrostical musing of some of my more serendipitous happenings.

S E R E N D I P I T Y

Sensing surroundings.

I am often hyper-aware of my surroundings, toeing the line of anxiety. Resulting in vivid memories; even the most mundane events decades ago can bubble forth with a scent, melody, or texture.

Many of you can no doubt relate. Writers are a special sort of observant type. Poets especially possess the gift of vividly recreating what our senses take in.

Over the years I’ve slowly realized that I take note of things most overlook. Well, rather it’s been repeatedly pointed out to me. Yes, I frequently fail to recall a name or a face or conversations, but I can accurately recall minute details. Subtle scents from perfume to wet leaves. Background noise, from chirping birds to coughs. How greasy the table felt. How the breeze fluttered the curtains. The refreshing tang of squeezed lemon in ice water.

I’m that person you need to explain the plot of most movies to because I was too busy analyzing the background details, props, lighting.

My younger self thought this a “curse.” Now I embrace it.

While many have earbuds in, eyes on a screen, or are in groups (herds of humans), I tend to wander off. Off in her own little world, they say. At times with camera along:

Do you hear that happy melody? Look closer at the sunflowers… Photo by N.E.

Fragrant flowers lure zig-zaggy fuzzy flutterers. Photo by N.E.

Tread with care. (young killdeer.) Photo by N.E.

Delightful textures and patterns are everywhere. Woolly Bear. (I get euphorically drunk on patterns. Don’t even get me started on the awesomeness of the Golden Ratio.) Photo by N.E.

Chilling artwork by Jack Frost. Photo by N.E.

Crackling fire. Photo by N.E.

Hmm? Ah, yes. Let’s move on to the next letter: E.

Extras

I’m at about 700 books collected now. Many used, several published in the late 1800s/ early 1900s. It’s surprising how many have little glimpses of the past hidden between pages.

Just a small sample of some in-book treasures. Photo by N.E.

Advice from a gent in the 1930s: “It’s a terrible feeling to lose the girl you love. But the feeling you have after you have won back the girl you love and lost is much more better in happiest (?) than the feeling of losing the girl you love with its misery and unhappiness. I lost and won. You too can. If you are as sincere as I was and am. Never give up. RL” Photo by N.E.

Naturally, there’s many other little extras that perk up a day at the most unexpected times…

Anna received 3 Pop-tarts in a 2-pack. Photo by N.E.

Amusing double sticked bomb-pop. Photo by N.E.

Ella was ecstatic her Fruit-by-the-Foot package contained twins. Photo by N.E.

I try to photograph or record these little moments and keep them on file. It’s good to scroll through whenever I’m feeling particularly cursed by the universe.

Rainbows

How is it an optical illusion can dazzle so? Larger-than-life, yet so temporary. Whenever I spot one I remind myself that most of my problems are much the same.

Backyard in Minnesota double ‘bow. Photo by N.E.

Across Man’s road in Wisconsin double ‘bow. Photo by N.E.

Current life in Missouri. Whole rainbow. Photo by N.E.

Same location, different day. Double ‘bow.Photo by N.E.

One last for now. Fading ‘bow. Photo by N.E.

Next up: E

(Education via the) Elderly

For the sake of brevity I won’t ramble on too much here. My years of working in the memory care sections of nursing homes and hospice expanded my mind beyond my ability to convey in just a brief paragraph or two. Someday I will write it all out.

Let’s just say frail bodies conceal the strength and character of these living time capsules. A listening ear reaps a cornucopia of wisdom.

N.E. with her great-grandmother Tily, born in Norway in 1895. Family photo circa 1982. I will forever remember the glow in her eyes when she described fishing the Fjords.

On to N…

Nonverbal

(I could have definitely gone with “nature,” but that’s almost a given, really.) Besides, nature itself is mostly nonverbal, no?

Halfway through this last school year I was assigned to a tiny girl with what some would say had a strong personality. Basically, no other para would work with her anymore. I could sense that past the biting, kicking, screaming whirlwind was a whip-smart curious soul who needed creative nurturing.

Challenge accepted.

Again, I could write book about what a privilege it is to assist such incredible fellow humans. Each moment of growth a reason to celebrate.

I’ll just say we bonded beyond words.

N.E. and T. Photo given to N.E. by Special Ed teacher.

The middle letter: D

Dealing with dying.

The first human death I witnessed was my mother’s. (Again, I could write pages about that shit-show, but we’re discussing serendipity, not mental mindfucking.) At the time, my aunt (Mom’s sister) recommended becoming hospice volunteer. I thought her nuts, but some 17 years later, that’s exactly what I fell into.

Assisting one through that final door is truly a sacred privilege. I am honored to carry the memories of ones no longer in this realm. A smile, kind word, or silly shared happening will bubble forth from Memory’s Vault just when I seem to need it.

“The breeze — the breath of God — is still — And the mist upon the hill, Shadowy — shadowy — yet unbroken, Is a symbol and a token — How it hangs upon the trees, A mystery of mysteries!” ~Edgar Allan Poe (Spirits of the Dead, stanza V) Photo by N.E.

We’re gonna stay deep in the dark for one letter more, k? I

Infections

This vessel of flesh I reside in has a kick-ass immune system. In childhood it was stuck in hyper-drive, seizing up airways (asthma) at any perceived threat, often furry animals or freshly cut grasses.

In 2002 it went AWOL, leaving a massive staph infection oozing from many joints, and finding a cozy abode in my heart (medical term for ya nerdy types: Endocarditis.)

Fun side-perk of also being extremely anemic caused me to pretty much sleep 24/7. Family photo of N.E. passed out.

So how is this serendipitous, you ask? My perspective widened. Each day, a gift. This body keeps acquiring weird maladies. I’ve developed a beyond-Zen intuition with my cells. We’ve been through some rather interesting ordeals. I’ve also developed true understanding of the frailty of the life.

Next, letter P

Peculiar encounters

Unexpected silly scenes are always a welcome zing to any day. A bonus: I am easily amused.

Silly lookin’ horse! Photo by N.E.

I laughed waaay too hard at this, according to my kiddos. Photo by N.E.

Just a friendly reminder to not starve yourself as you travel along the highway. Photo by N.E.

I wonder what that farmer’s preferred drink is??? Photo by N.E.

Is your wife a bit too short? Extend her next time for free!!! Photo by N.E.

Final three letters! On to I

Interconnected

Moments that cause me to reflect on how interconnected we all are… every electron, energy, birth, death, cycles both microscopic and cosmic… bathe me in a blanket of belonging, if for but a moment, at least.

Daughter “holding” the moon. Photo by N.E.

Hold that thought. It leads nicely into our next letter: T

Tranquility

I have a profound memories of arriving Up North (rural Hibbing, Minnesota area) in the dead of night, winter. Family would quickly scamper to the warmth of Grandma’s abode. I lingered. Total silence enveloped me. Eyes drifted upwards to the star-filled sky, hoping, longing, as always. Deep snow all around glistened, sparkled, somehow amplifying the absolute quiet.

All too soon Grandma would holler at me to “get the heck outta dat der cold ‘fore ya freeze solid!” With a sigh, I would comply.

To this day I seek out moments of tranquility. Sunsets are nice that way. Have a couple on me:

Lakeside sunset. Photo by N.E.

Small town Wisconsin winding down. Photo by N.E.

And finally: Y

Youthful Zest

One needs only to see the world as a joyful child encounters it to replenish zeal.

Ella playing with bubbles at the women’s shelter. Photo by N.E.

A young Anna relishing a s’more. Photo by N.E.

A young Nora couldn’t resist splashing. Photo by N.E.

Teenage Alex getting some airtime. Photo by N.E.

Well, it’s well into tomorrow now. May each of you have a summer filled with moments of serendipity.

Cheers!