Words to Live By and Depart From
Idioms, proverbs, and quotes I value
With a repertoire of hundreds of thousands of words in the English language, I pondered which phrases assumed a special meaning to me. I discovered quotes that fell into select groups — challenges, choices, friendship, and love to select just a few. My subsequent reflections elaborate on my life priorities, values, and introspection. My considerations include an emphasis on or departure from the core meaning of noted aphorisms, proverbs, or mottos.
“Absence makes the heart grow fonder.” — Unknown
This motto was used as early as 1862 in an unknown poem and poet. In my mind’s eye, I note that when I leave familiar people, places, and environments for more than two to three weeks, I yearn for the familiar once again. In particular, my bed and pillow, system of organizing, and entire home becomes sought after and yearned for.
Progressive vision loss creates a greater need for familiarity than earlier in my full-sighted life. Likewise, family and friends who either by geography or circumstance have not been seen for several months creates an inner tug to reconnect. Shared history, which can span decades, creates a personal foundation that for me must be rekindled with a phone call, visit, or Zoom call.
For me, absence creates with its longing a deeper and renewed appreciation for that friendship and connection. It pleases me to note that this familiar idiom provides so much meaning and fuel to my daily life. “I have missed you!” symbolizes that refreshing reconnection.
“It takes a village to raise a child.” — African Proverb
Reflecting on my childhood, I wistfully recognize that my village was sparsely populated, isolated, and with a weak foundation. Although my siblings and I attended public schools, we did not experience the childhood normalcy of inviting our friends home after school or for sleepovers. My parents’ friendships were sparse or nonexistent, which created the antithesis of belonging to a village or network.
We dutifully observed a Catholic mass on Sundays, but progressed no further in that community. Since we were poor, there were no perks such as sleepaway camps, or extracurricular activities. My personal experience in the suburbs featured only tract houses that looked the same and fences that separated us from our neighbors.
Perhaps we would catch a glimpse of each other while retrieving mail from the mailboxes, or when mowing the front lawns. I have no recollection of my parents’ participation in PTA meetings or volunteering within the school or the larger community. It saddens me to paint this picture of separateness and isolation from those around me.
My Greek and German/ Czech family were more inclusive, particularly my husband’s Greek family. Not only did my daughters visit my husband’s birthplace of Cyprus every two to three years as children, but they also came away with a fascination of, and love for his Cyprus childhood.
Our girls relished their dad’s recollections of his childhood years, from birth to sixteen, before he immigrated to the U.S. He regaled them with stories about loading donkeys with grapes from the vineyards, walking everywhere since his family did not have a car, and having a two-parent loving family with two older brothers.
Since my mother-in-law became a widow, with 25 years without her husband, rather than losing her either to distance or grief, she enhanced my daughters’ lives by several yearlong stays in America. Although she spoke minimal English, she watched our girls for several hours a day when I left for work at 3 PM since Ted did not return home until 6 PM from his job.
She gifted us with her Cypriot culinary delights, such as egg-lemon soup, dolmas, or my daughters’ favorites, daktila, which are nut-filled syrup laden fried pastries. Daktila in Greek means “fingers” and these treats were finger-length concoctions. My older daughter recalls fondly assisting her Yiayia (grandmother) filling the dough with a nut and spice mixture.
Although Yiayia died in 2003, her presence in our lives was indelible. She loved staying and cooked like there was no tomorrow. We continued to visit Cyprus every three years where the warm Mediterranean seafood tavernas and live music continue to lure us in.
Most importantly, a wonderfully sisterly connection in America with a nearby niece, her husband, and three sons continues. We share Greek Easter celebrations outdoors with her, where leg of lamb, spanakopita (spinach pie), and dolmas (grape leaf rolls) always satisfy our appetites.
My husband’s connection with his Greek edibles remains solid as he regularly creates Greek salads, sometimes with feta, and other times haloumi. In fact, my German family regularly requests that we bring the Greek salad treasure to our shared events.
Although we are not fervent church attendees, we anxiously await the yearly Greek festival at our church which features most of the culinary delights, artwork, and dancing. We are so proud to share the festivities of the festival that no fewer than ten sets of friends have enjoyed with us in the last thirty years. In February of 2024, a Cretan band performed at a local traditionally Irish nightclub and my husband danced vigorously to the Syrto dance, a circular dance.
“When it rains, it pours.”
This phrase comes from a 1914 Morton salt advertisement about how their salt is free flowing even in moist weather. Now this phrase assumes a new meaning to me, which is rather than a measured sprinkling of rain, we can also experience torrents of rain or hardship. When I note that multiple, usually adverse events occur in rapid succession of one another, I find myself repeating this motto.
Another introspection of this is my lack of control over the timing of any life events. Case in point, I recently experienced two hardships in rapid succession of each other: my 94-year-old stepmother’s fracturing of her hip in January 2024 and gallbladder/pancreatic complications, with her family agreeing to hospice care at this stage of her life, and no fewer than ten days later, an 87-year-old close friend and former nurse also experienced a fractured hip and unexpected complications requiring a colostomy.
If all life events were within my control, I would wish for no misfortunes, or at the very least, at greater time intervals. It is incumbent upon me to navigate around them smoothly or lay down and rest a while to take a break.
In a concrete way, January and February 2024 have brought atmospheric rivers and torrential rains in California, which my husband and I navigate by staying inside, timing our events based on the computer predictions of rainfall or at times, immersing ourselves in the club pool, and experiencing double wetness from the pool’s water and the strength of the sprinkles coming downwards.
“Home is where the heart is.” — Pliny the Elder
Another close consideration of tradition and connection, this motto brings comfort and enrichment to my life. My home, not just the real estate, represents my minutes, days, and years within that setting I fondly call home.
My husband, Ted, and I moved only four times in our forty years of being together. Into this fabric are woven traditions such as holidays, birthdays, and clockwork events such as my book club, my Ladies at Lunch (LAL), or a tradition evolving such as the SIX-SOME, which involves my husband and I with four friends, two of whom are sisters, who live in neighboring communities.
We rotate houses for lunch, with the host usually providing the main dish, one creating appetizers, and a third by popular demand sumptuous desserts, whether pies, tarts, or cakes. I can particularly appreciate the dessert artisan, since I bake only minimally.
“Home is where the hearth is.”
I have created an additional adage to the “home” quote, which is, “Home is where the hearth is,” which includes both the comforts of family and friends gathering around a fire or sharing a meal that we cooked together. Although in my early childhood, cooking was only a necessity or isolative process, now it has morphed into a bonding activity that I share with friends and family. Notably, in Ted’s Greek family, at Greek Easter, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and birthdays (especially for the young), I feel a joyful communal connection that is created by a labor of love; putting dolmas, spanakopita, Greek salads, or food salads together for everyone to enjoy.
“You are not meant for crawling, so don’t, you have wings. Learn to use them and fly.” -Rumi
Rumi’s words provide inspiration, exhilaration, and transcendence to me. In my formative years through early adulthood, I carried a yoke of “victim” behaviors with me, which took considerable therapy and relationships to garner healthier choices and behaviors. Now when I feel weighted down by life’s turmoil, I swim, listen to jazz music, a light read, or step into nature. Taking these steps removes me from quicksand, grassy knolls, or into the clouds.
“You can lead a horse to water, but you cannot make it drink.” — 12th Century English Proverb
Horses represented to me positive childhood memories of horseback riding at Buckeye Ranch, trusting the energy and direction of my horse and stroking its sweet, sometimes sweaty skin. Now horses symbolize a metaphor for any animate being, whether a family pet, our children, or our friends. I surrender to this proverb’s lesson of everyone and everything having ultimate agency and free choice. Although after a horse’s laborious gallops through a field, I would find the water refreshing, I am not the horse or ultimately in charge.
Acceptance of this reality has become easier as I have grown older. Moving from the “must dos” of my parenting of two daughters, I have become more realistic and accepting of each person’s ultimate freedom of choice. As I affirm and recognize this, I can relinquish the need for control of others in my life, which ultimately frees me from that yoke.
In turn, I can now appreciate life’s relationships without a hidden agenda or assumed responsibility for another. It is refreshing to note that all the horses in my life find their water or sustenance of their own accord. Perhaps, reaching adulthood rather than assuming parent or mentor roles has brought me this new freedom.
“Rain wets the leopard’s skin but does not wash away its spots.” — African Proverb
Much like the leopard, each human person demonstrates characteristics that dot their personality and life. I find comfort knowing and believing that my dots or markings and those of loved ones do not need to be removed, altered, or camouflaged by me or any other person. I cherish accepting a person as they are, which also relieves me of the burden to change them. It is also comforting and inspiring to dream of a society where all our communal markings and behaviors can be honored, rather than denigrated or abused. At present, I carry three markings that are immutable — my weight, age, and blindness. If anyone in my current life feels negativity towards any of those features, let them speak out.
“A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.” — Chinese Proverb
I believe this proverb provides basic inspiration as to how to begin our first elemental movements in living. It comforts me to know that despite early childhood traumas, retirement, and now almost total blindness, I continue to progress along life’s path. I recognize my speed has slowed and the depth and scope of my perceptions narrowed, but I still value my hearing, tactile senses, smell, taste, and proprioception in my environment. They infuse me with enough energy, input, and motivation to continue stepping.
My hopes for myself, my family, and loved ones is that we maintain cognitive health so that we can create our own choices and that we have enough mobility to carry on step by step on life’s journey. These hardships are like putting rocks or boulders on my path and I must deftly find ways in which to navigate around them, and/or fall briefly and pick myself up.
“Fall down seven times, stand up eight.” — Japanese Proverb
Both these proverbs involve our life’s journey and the quality and stamina we demonstrate while progressing along the path from birth to death. Much as in the previous proverb, these wise words signify to me the importance of persevering despite encountering hardships and struggles.
I have found family members’ illnesses, interpersonal struggles, and occupational challenges can clutter or pose pits and obstacles in my life. Sometimes they are mere pebbles in the roadway, but other times loom as large as boulders. I am on a constant quest for creating work arounds or adaptations to these obstacles.
All in all, I prefer variations in my terrain to a mere level, albeit boring landscape. Much as I enjoyed riding a rollercoaster when I was younger, I find I become too complacent or flaccid if my path is too comfortable.
“Laughter is the best medicine.” -Henri de Mondeville
In my childhood years, laughter was an almost unknown entity, sound, or emotion. This quote assumed more pronounced meaning as I proceeded through my nursing school studies and my forty-year nursing career.
As one laughs, the feel-good endorphins create a greater sense of well-being. I feel privileged to share laughter with children who are observant yet silly and unassuming and can make jokes out of the simplest things, like standing water on a sidewalk, kicking it or plunging into it with their feet.
Other groups in my life that I share concentrated laughter-laced atmosphere, are my six-some group and my foster care group. I find laughter pours forth more readily after one drink. It’s as if the alcohol releases the nails cementing it to the ground and allows it to float upwards.
These eleven phrases or proverbs represent some of the most meaningful qualities, values, and life events. I have noted my movements from early life to the present day, which comforts me immensely. I hope that each reader can cultivate within themselves a treasure trove of aphorisms, mottos, or proverbs most endearing to them.
