Lilacs

It's the weekend of the Portland Flower Show and with it comes memories of lilacs, and lunch and cocktails with my sister. We had this yearly tradition of spending the entire day, snow, rain or shine having lunch at the Regency Hotel, then going to the flower show to get that first breath of spring. We even tried to wear spring like clothes only to be defeated by snow and ice a couple of times. Walking through the show together was wonderful and renewing the thought that yes, spring is really coming, and yes, we can get our hands into the dirt once again and plant our summer gardens. Up until the show, we had to content ourselves with reading the Burpee catalog to get that feeling. This was so much more, you could smell the green, almost feel the soil in your hands and enjoy the sights of the flowers planted just for this one weekend. You could imagine having a garden the likes of which you'd never had, with pergolas, swings, adirondack chairs and little, quiet perfect spots to just sit and enjoy nature, or read a book, or maybe just think.

I haven't been to the Flower Show since my sister passed away a few years ago. I miss it, the experience we had together, and of course, I miss
her. One year, we passed a booth that held the photographic work of an artist that specialized in scenes of flowers and such and I admired a print of lilacs. These have always been a favorite, maybe because of the heavenly scent or maybe because their season is so short that it makes them so much more precious. The print was quite expensive, more than I could afford at the time so much as I hated to, I had to pass. To my surprise when my birthday came in the fall and we were having our birthday celebration, my sister had purchased that print for me. It goes everywhere I go, is hung on my bedroom wall to remind me of her and the fleeting nature of both the flower and time. It all goes so quickly. It reminds me to live now while I can, because it can end all too soon.

I will wait for the lilacs of spring and think of her.

Did She Really Ask For It?

Did she wake up one morning and decide that today was the day?  I don't think so.  I don't think when she dressed she thought that the new top she bought at Walmart was so sexy that a man wouldn't be able to control himself and would have to have her, no matter the consequences.




I don't think when she was eating her Special K in a vain attempt to get that extra ten pounds off that she thought "I'm going to try and lose some weight so I'll be more attractive to the guy whose picture is on the telephone pole across from the restaurant where I work."




I don't think that when she went out for her daily run through the park that she was waiting for some pervert to jump out from behind a tree to give her the thrill of her life.




I know that when she flirted with that cute guy at the restaurant that she didn't think of how it would feel to have a knife at her throat, and then decide to flirt a little more.




Or that when she walked through that same park after dark on the way home that she thought surely he would strike now.




Or even that when she went out on a blind date set up by our cousin that the guy might, if she acted really friendly, throw her a fast one in the back seat of his car on a deserted road off Route 95 on the way out of town.




No, she got up in the morning and went through her day just like any other, not asking for anything, because that wasn't her way.




No, she really didn't ask for it, but she got it anyway, and now she's gone.




She will be missed.




Just A Story by Kathy Rivers

Summer's Coming Soon!!

Maine Voices: Want to feel the spirit of the season? Volunteer

December 23, 2010

A bell-ringer for The Salvation Army discovers that giving takes many forms, and that those who give receive the most.

By KATHY RIVERS

In need of a job, running out of money, worrying about how I was going to live in the weeks approaching Christmas. Not to mention the issue of gifts for family and friends.

I am fortunate to have good friends; I could sell everything and move in with a friend temporarily. I have options, not always the options I want to have to exercise.
During my daily reading of the classified ads, I found an ad for volunteer bell ringers for The Salvation Army. Every other Christmas, I had had enough money to put some in the kettle each time I passed one. Not so much this year.
The Salvation Army has always been my "go to" charity, remembering the help my family got from them when I was a child. They helped us with Christmas, with food to eat and warm clothes to wear, with no judgment cast or questions asked about how my mother wound up in this place of need.
I called the number and was welcomed as a volunteer; I'm not doing anything right now and thought this would be a way to give back. Little did I know that I was going to be the one to receive -- in the form of grace in the sharing of people's stories, well wishes and thanks.
From the woman who gave the pennies she had been saving, to the little children eagerly putting in coins with their chubby little fingers -- they come from all walks of life, drawn to the goodness and light of The Salvation Army kettle.
They give out of a generosity that is staggering in these tough times, and quite a few of them feel comfortable enough to share their reason for that giving.
If you're feeling lonely, scared or sad in this holiday season, consider getting out of yourself long enough to ring a bell, volunteer at a soup kitchen or collect Christmas presents, food or warm clothing for people who have a greater need than yourself.
Do this, and find amazing grace for now and forever. Believe me -- I know from my own experience at the kettle. You will gain so much and it costs you nothing but your time. And, if you let it, it can change the meaning of Christmas for you and the people around you for a long time.
But be prepared to feel your heart fill with joy.
- Special to The Press Herald

Snow

The snow falls silently
Like little cat feet that make no sound
But are there when you turn around
And are surprised by
The serenity and peacefulness


It's morning
And another day begins
All white until life interrupts

The First Day

Today is the first day of my very own blog......I'll just have to see how this works to take full advantage of the opportunity to share a part of my life that is rapidly becoming very important to me....writing my thoughts, creating stories and hopefully making a mark somehow.

I will also post photos from time to time, not personal in nature, but the surprises that come to me when I manage to remember to bring my camera with me. For now, I leave you with this Smile.....