This year, the fourth of July was loads of fun. I went to Sonoma, as usual, and watched the fireworks from the grassy fields next to General Vallejo's house. At first, it looked like there was going to be a group of us...which dwindled down, in the end to two couples. The other car load of people never made it out of Petaluma. Sometimes wrangling a bunch of people together can be a little bit challenging. Oh well...so some of us were in P-town watching the fireworks. The rest of us: Mac, Bean, Katrina and I had front-row seats for a beautiful fireworks show. We brought a large soft blanket and spread out. Mac was sweet enough to carry the bulk of everything from the car and actually set up while I went looking for my friends. I have to say...the cute boy picked a pretty nice spot. :)
On our way out of town, we picked up some tri-tip from Oliver's and various other goodies to nosh for our pick-nick dinner. Bean and Katrina brought the beverages. It felt good watching the fireworks...falling back into a *happy* tradition of mine. I guess those are the things that you do, in order to rebuild your happiness.
Surrounding us, as we watched the fireworks, there was a cacophony of various cries from the crowd. Some were cute and funny, like the 4-year old little girl who kept exclaiming with such sincerity things like: "This is the best fourth of July ever!". Some were just the average hoots and cheers as the show really got under way. And then there were the others. -The annoying group of yahoo's who unfortunately sat directly behind us and kept calling out things like "Penis!", "Homer Simpson!", "Freedom isn't free!"...on and on and on. The first time it was a little funny. But it got old quick. Apparently not to them thought because they kept it up throughout the entire show. At some point, a small single-prop aircraft began to circle the fireworks. Which "ruined it" for the yahoo's sitting behind us. -This I found very amusing, since they had been "ruining it" for the rest of us.
When the show was over, our group sat and relaxed merrily talking and laughing away. From experience, I've learned that you have two good options: 1. run for the car immediately and peel out of the parking lot before anyone else gets back to theirs. or 2. relax and watch the stars and hang out a while longer, giving the throngs of people time to sit in their cars...until slowly, the traffic moves through and by the time you get to your car...there's no waiting. :) We took option 2.
Katrina even was nice enough to take a picture for the yahoo's to commemorate the occasion. (she's such a nice girl!)
Sometime after the crowds had started to clear, I noticed a heap of stuff right next to us. "Somebody left their bag of garbage there." -Ooops! Turns out I was wrong. It was the small woman who kept calling out "beautiful" throughout the show. She was drunk and had passed out. She started talking in her sleep, and it became apparent that she had undergone some sort of trauma in her life.
It reminded me of all of those sad and lost souls that I would come across in the SNF's The old woman in the hallway, who was so distraught. So sure that I was her daughter and that she had to make things right with me. She felt so bad. I couldn't convince her that I was actually somebody else, and that we were in a medical facility. That I was actually there to see *my* mother at the end of the hallway. She grabbed onto my hand and looked deeply, pleadingly into my eyes. The only thing that I could do for her, was play along. I forgave her. I pretended to be her daughter, and told her that everything was going to be all right. That she was safe and loved. And that everything was OK. It calmed her down immediately. She sat back into her wheelchair with a feeling of relief. Some part of me felt a little bad for my deception. But I also thought "Well...what can I really do to help this woman feel OK right here and now?"
Mac suggested that we give the woman our blanket. To which I thought immediately "No way! My mom gave me this blanket." It was one of the very last things my mother ever gave me. I remember at the time the frustration that I had felt over her gift. I didn't want her to spend any money on me. But then, in subsequent years, I was glad that she had. It was a large, soft, pale grass-green blanket. The texture of it even looked a bit like grass. I can't tell you how many times I fished that blanket out of the dryer and wrapped it around my mom. Or the pizza Friday's that we would spend snuggled up underneath it as we watched movies and ate popcorn. So when Mac suggested giving it to this homeless woman, my heart clamped down and said NO. The woman must have heard us talking about it because she asked us if we had a blanket we could give her. She then went on to tell us how she was so cold. Which also went straight to my heart, and overrided my *no*. I thought about all of those times that my mother needed somebody's love and nurturance. And how in this world, it is so easy to *not give*...to ignore. To turn away from our opportunities to be of service to others simply because it is in our own best interest or even worse...just because it's easy. -Yep. I was guilty of that. I was being selfish and small. Guilty as charged.
"Do you have a home?" I asked. -I wanted to make sure, before I gave her my beloved wubby...that she wasn't just some rich drunk Sonoma housewife who had passed out in the field and would toddle on home in the morning.
"Not now." she replied. (oh.)
"OK. We have a blanket for you. We'll give it to you in a minute after we've packed up our stuff."
"Thank you."
We packed up the remainder of our pick-nick, and put a small pile of individual containers of food right next to her with an apple juice for when she woke up in the morning. Then, Tim and I covered her up with the blanket.
"There you go sweetie."
As we walked back to the car, Mac kissed me and promised me that he would buy me a new blanket. He said that it was *his* mom coming out in him. Her generosity of spirit. I know that in many ways, Mac's mother contributed quite a bit to the world around her. Giving that woman my blanket was the right thing to do. I can't say that it was easy. It was my favorite blanket and in some way felt a bit like letting go of my mother, not just a blanket. But it was the right thing to do.
...Hey...after all...it's just a blanket right? I can buy a new one. No biggie.
On our way out of town, we picked up some tri-tip from Oliver's and various other goodies to nosh for our pick-nick dinner. Bean and Katrina brought the beverages. It felt good watching the fireworks...falling back into a *happy* tradition of mine. I guess those are the things that you do, in order to rebuild your happiness.
Surrounding us, as we watched the fireworks, there was a cacophony of various cries from the crowd. Some were cute and funny, like the 4-year old little girl who kept exclaiming with such sincerity things like: "This is the best fourth of July ever!". Some were just the average hoots and cheers as the show really got under way. And then there were the others. -The annoying group of yahoo's who unfortunately sat directly behind us and kept calling out things like "Penis!", "Homer Simpson!", "Freedom isn't free!"...on and on and on. The first time it was a little funny. But it got old quick. Apparently not to them thought because they kept it up throughout the entire show. At some point, a small single-prop aircraft began to circle the fireworks. Which "ruined it" for the yahoo's sitting behind us. -This I found very amusing, since they had been "ruining it" for the rest of us.
When the show was over, our group sat and relaxed merrily talking and laughing away. From experience, I've learned that you have two good options: 1. run for the car immediately and peel out of the parking lot before anyone else gets back to theirs. or 2. relax and watch the stars and hang out a while longer, giving the throngs of people time to sit in their cars...until slowly, the traffic moves through and by the time you get to your car...there's no waiting. :) We took option 2.
Katrina even was nice enough to take a picture for the yahoo's to commemorate the occasion. (she's such a nice girl!)
Sometime after the crowds had started to clear, I noticed a heap of stuff right next to us. "Somebody left their bag of garbage there." -Ooops! Turns out I was wrong. It was the small woman who kept calling out "beautiful" throughout the show. She was drunk and had passed out. She started talking in her sleep, and it became apparent that she had undergone some sort of trauma in her life.
It reminded me of all of those sad and lost souls that I would come across in the SNF's The old woman in the hallway, who was so distraught. So sure that I was her daughter and that she had to make things right with me. She felt so bad. I couldn't convince her that I was actually somebody else, and that we were in a medical facility. That I was actually there to see *my* mother at the end of the hallway. She grabbed onto my hand and looked deeply, pleadingly into my eyes. The only thing that I could do for her, was play along. I forgave her. I pretended to be her daughter, and told her that everything was going to be all right. That she was safe and loved. And that everything was OK. It calmed her down immediately. She sat back into her wheelchair with a feeling of relief. Some part of me felt a little bad for my deception. But I also thought "Well...what can I really do to help this woman feel OK right here and now?"
Mac suggested that we give the woman our blanket. To which I thought immediately "No way! My mom gave me this blanket." It was one of the very last things my mother ever gave me. I remember at the time the frustration that I had felt over her gift. I didn't want her to spend any money on me. But then, in subsequent years, I was glad that she had. It was a large, soft, pale grass-green blanket. The texture of it even looked a bit like grass. I can't tell you how many times I fished that blanket out of the dryer and wrapped it around my mom. Or the pizza Friday's that we would spend snuggled up underneath it as we watched movies and ate popcorn. So when Mac suggested giving it to this homeless woman, my heart clamped down and said NO. The woman must have heard us talking about it because she asked us if we had a blanket we could give her. She then went on to tell us how she was so cold. Which also went straight to my heart, and overrided my *no*. I thought about all of those times that my mother needed somebody's love and nurturance. And how in this world, it is so easy to *not give*...to ignore. To turn away from our opportunities to be of service to others simply because it is in our own best interest or even worse...just because it's easy. -Yep. I was guilty of that. I was being selfish and small. Guilty as charged.
"Do you have a home?" I asked. -I wanted to make sure, before I gave her my beloved wubby...that she wasn't just some rich drunk Sonoma housewife who had passed out in the field and would toddle on home in the morning.
"Not now." she replied. (oh.)
"OK. We have a blanket for you. We'll give it to you in a minute after we've packed up our stuff."
"Thank you."
We packed up the remainder of our pick-nick, and put a small pile of individual containers of food right next to her with an apple juice for when she woke up in the morning. Then, Tim and I covered her up with the blanket.
"There you go sweetie."
As we walked back to the car, Mac kissed me and promised me that he would buy me a new blanket. He said that it was *his* mom coming out in him. Her generosity of spirit. I know that in many ways, Mac's mother contributed quite a bit to the world around her. Giving that woman my blanket was the right thing to do. I can't say that it was easy. It was my favorite blanket and in some way felt a bit like letting go of my mother, not just a blanket. But it was the right thing to do.
...Hey...after all...it's just a blanket right? I can buy a new one. No biggie.
cheerful
inspired
