The road ends, but the journey continues...
Columbine
20 years ago
On a Tuesday
For 20 minutes
Terror Reigned
In
Once a Safe Place
~~~
(30 minutes away, all 3 of our brood were also at school, presumably safe; learning, or not. Never to assume that again – Laura Bruno Lilly)
Okay-Okay, I’m still on my blogging break, but what say you to a quick hello?
Perhaps a bulleted update will suffice:
Our 2003 Toyota Camry – 400K 12/28/2018
400K reached at mile marker 64, I10W on hubby’s 64th Birthday!
(Ma’s Uncle) Tran Mawicke poster
~~~~~
That’s it for now, dear readers. Thank you for allowing me to pop in & say hi during my blogging break. Bye for now.
*will fill you in on details as we get closer to timing on all of this
Winter Solstice: a day with the least amount of sunshine potential; the shortest day and longest night; a time of reversals.
To me, the Winter Solstice feels more like the ending of the past year with the dawning of the true ‘new year.’ An organic New Year’s Eve, so to speak. What better time to reflect on the past year, letting go and easing into the ‘new year’ as each day from this point in time gains length.
With these reflections comes the announcement that this will be my final posting for 2018 with an undetermined first post date for the upcoming year. That’s just my convoluted way of saying I’m taking a blogging break!
😉
That said, let us continue.
In reviewing my Morning Pages* over this past year I realized it has been a full and satisfying 12 months. No family or close friends died or declared any horrific medical diagnosis, the selling of my folks’ house went smoothly and the settling of their estate is almost completed, we visited and celebrated with family members and friends throughout the year and throughout the country, and the scary emergencies we did encounter were accompanied by His ‘peace that passes all understanding’ as we walked through those life-paths.
It seems we landed in a junction of respite from several years of elder care, personal pain, disappointments, grief and such.
Fielding the good with the bad, several themes** emerged as well – often revealing forward movement on goals, desires, hopes and dreams; working through the ups & downs of life; grappling with deeper issues in living a purposeful life.
Why then this lingering sense of sadness?
Is it the darkness? The longer nights and shorter days? Grey black skies, claustrophobic fog?
Not really.
I relish this Winter Solstice evening – prolonged darkness, giving permission to hunker down, and delve into soul searching, validating this yearning to be still and listen to what the Lord through His creation and past events is speaking to me.
Then what is contributing to this heaviness, this disheartening sense of impotence in making a difference in life’s inequities?
Ah yes, of course. Events over this past year, worldwide and oh-too-to-close-to-home local happenings.
And yet, this is all not new…the poor have always been with us, the rich and powerful have always manipulated laws to benefit themselves, increasing their wealth and opportunities, to the detriment of everyday people, and, what of the ever presence of war – always with us.
1968 was a bad year – Vietnam War, numerous assassinations, student protests…Decades earlier, WWII, Hitler, Stalin, Mussolini, the Holocaust…
The world’s suffering is so personal.
It hurts.
And yet, I am reminded:
*from which I am taking an indeterminate break also, after 28+ years of faithful jottings!
**my music, hubby’s new business, finding home, strengthening relationships…
Back to that postcard…not only did the poster quote aspect of the card resonate with my style sensibilities but it triggered a punny approach in recounting a recent milestone event in my life (as reflected in the post title). Can you guess, yet, what that might be? Hint: keep in mind the correct pronunciation of the word pho’ as the phrase Sixty Pho’ is spoken out loud.
To clarify the timeline, Joe visited Vietnam the beginning of October for about 33 days and I received the Make Pho’ Not War postcard the beginning of December – textbook status quo for overseas snail mail delivery.
By then, we had already seen our son in Chicago two days after he got back to Denver from Vietnam in early November.
Say what?
Yes, it is weird to get ‘after the fact’ stuff in the snail mail.
Now, on with the Sixty Pho’ story…
‘Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I’m 64?’
Joe’s birthday, July 2018 (Michelle, me, Joe)
Those of us who were able to come to the party. Except for the end persons, the five of us in the front row are the attending cousins – I’m the only one of them who likes pictures taken, so I’m lucky to have this. (L-R: Pat, Joanne, Dennis, me, Bob)
Joe and David playing the star set-piece
*Odometer alert: as of this writing, we are at 397,963. 🙂
The Green Mill in Chicago, one of many places Dad played back in the day.
Michelle, Joe, me, hubby in front of the Green Mill Lounge in Chicago, taking in a show.
Got this postcard from our son Joe in the snail mail a few days ago.
Welcome to the 21st century, Vietnam and Baby Boomers!
The slogans written on the VW bus are as follows:
- Make Pho’ Not War
- Draft Beer, Not boys
- Peace
- all we need is peace
- Love
- Hoian (Quang Nam Province)
- War is expensive, Peace is priceless
And the best for last:
- Vietnam against War (using the V and W in the VW logo)
Coming of age during the Vietnam War, the country itself has never held any appeal for me to visit. Dove or Hawk, protester or soldier, the war in Vietnam was complicated. The dread of the draft during wartime isn’t too much understood these days as we have an all-volunteer army which implies a desire to be involved in the military in some form or another during times of war and of peace. Those days, enlisting was an option that meant a guy of draftable age could at least choose a branch of the military in which to serve. Hubby chose the Navy.
As such, while hubby served during the Vietnam War, his assigned job as a naval optical man. He’s very adamant about making the distinction that he’s a Vietnam era Vet, not a Vietnam Veteran in deference to those who did indeed serve their tour of duty in Southeast Asia.
Anyway, I have to admit our son’s month long trip hiking, biking and scootering the entire length of Vietnam starting in the North and ending in the South, opened my eyes to its natural beauty, culture, native coffees & foods, and as a traveler’s destination.
Like many of you, I was first introduced to those fresh Vietnamese Noodle Bowls in the 1990’s and graduated to the more complex flavors of Pho’ in recent years. So now, Joe’s fun postcard entices me further as he wrote on the back –
Move over Pho – here comes Bun Bo Hue!
I had a teeth-cleaning appointment at the Dentist a couple of weeks ago. The hygienist is personable and always asks questions while my mouth is fully open exposing a set of teeth in ‘ready-to-be-cleaned’ position. It must be a lonely job, just hearing yourself talk with a client who mostly can’t respond.
This time around the question of the day was:
And this time around, she climbed out of my mouth, looked me in the eye (she’s a pro – she can locate those eyeballs amidst the open mouth-face) and waited for a response.
I had none at that immediate moment.
She filled the silence by answering her own question with the standard (at least it seems that way to me after all these years of living) “I don’t like the hype of Christmas, etc etc, it’s no fun anymore, etc, etc, SO: my favorite holiday is Thanksgiving”…no surprise. Sorry to say, but I’ve heard all that a million times before to where it sounds a bit trite. But, I get it.
During the next extended open-mouth segment, I pondered her question. I realized my answer to that question has not only morphed over the years, but I could express in a ‘sound bite’ (pun actually unintended!) a sort of reason for my response in the response itself. Kind of important given the brief time for articulation available while in The Chair.
My, aren’t I clever?
On Monday, September 17th, my bro and I signed over our folks’ house to a buyer who said, “I fell in love with this house the minute I set foot into it.”
In celebration of this event, I bring you a jam session of a favorite gospel tune, Oh Happy Day, in the spirit of my JazzMan Dad…
(jump to 3:05 if you’re not a musician interested in the creative process)
Original youth group recording
This is track 5 from the 1968 album “Let Us Go Into The House Of The Lord”. Lead by Dorothy Morrison-Combs Written by Philip Doddridge Arranged by Edwin Hawkins. Edwin Hawkins was a pianist at Ephesian Church of God in Christ in Berkeley, California when he came up with the popular Latin/Soul version of the song “Oh Happy Day” in 1968. In an October 23, 2009 interview with the San Francisco Chronicle, he explained that “Oh Happy Day” was one of eight arrangements he put together for the Northern California State Youth Choir, which was made up of 46 singers ages 17 to 25, and the plan was to sell an album of the songs to finance a trip to a church youth conference in Washington, D.C. The tracks were quickly recorded live in church on a two-track tape machine (industry standard at the time was eight-track), but the records weren’t pressed in time for the trip. They did attend the conference, and the choir placed second in a singing competition, where they performed 2 of Hawkins’ arrangements, but not “Oh Happy Day,” which Hawkins said was “Not our favorite song.”
Me: the bassline beginning at 2:40 through to the end is fantastic! – this is a stellar example of the vibrancy of live performances regardless of the limitations of available recording equipment…wow!
Me: this one is a vocal improv that is relatable to the Jam.
Oh happy day (oh happy day)
Oh happy day (oh happy day)
When Jesus washed (when Jesus washed)
When Jesus washed (when Jesus washed)
When Jesus washed (when Jesus washed)
He washed my sins away (oh happy day)
Oh happy day (oh happy day)
He taught me how to watch, fight and pray, fight and pray
And live rejoicing every, everyday
Oh happy day…
Two years ago on the 17th, I was scheduled to fly back to SC after a Summer of Dad visit. He, instead, changed my plans the day before by having a mini stroke. Hubby quickly cancelled that flight and rescheduled for another flight for the following week.
Dad passed away Sept 22…
September 17th, 2018 we closed on Ma & Dad’s house. Two nights before that, hubby and I slept in Ma & Dad’s empty house for the last time on our faithful air mattress.
A different sort of closing…
As most of you know, I’ve been sorting/sifting through the stuff of the lives of my folks while trying to get their house in order for sale these past almost 2 years. That said, this post is kindof like how I am – two opposite drives streaming together – sadness for those lost and gone, yet invigorated to actively let those still here on earth know I love them in the here and now…
“Music gives us the space to grieve” Hugh Sung
What we can do in the here and now: Continue reading
Note: Please join me as I take a break from the all-consuming house-selling prep chores.
I’m sitting on the floor, my back against the wall down here in the walkout basement level that leads to the garden of my folks’ house. It is cooler here than any other place even with the AC on throughout the house.
It’s hot, but bearable…knowing these same temps are lingering around Florence, SC (our current place of residence) with the high humidity of the deep South, these Colorado 97 degree days are a piece of cake.
Hmmm, cake? For some reason, my appetite has been wonky – consuming things I don’t normally crave: Potato chips, extra salty fries, dark chocolate salted almond bark – oh yes the chocolate is a common craving for me, but not the desperate need for it to contain salted caramel, sea salted nuts or simply chunks of the rocky salty stuff….a common denominator seems to be emerging here.
Oh, I stay hydrated. In fact I drink water as if it were my own personal national pastime. My family teases me about always having a glass of water close at hand and asking others if they’ve kept up with their own liquid intake needs. I diversify, too, as I treat myself to watery watermelon often.
But this binging on salty and also high caloric food is way out of character for me. Ask any of my newer Southern acquaintances and they’ll tell you it’s odd for me since I dodge most of that part of the country’s traditionally deep fat fried, tongue stingingly salty foods.
So much for the weird…please pass the popcorn – drenched in butter and coated with salt of course.
My cousin Dennis taking us for a boat ride on Lake Waco, TX
A favorite spot to wander the desert in Las Cruces, NM
LCNM revisited (thoughts)
Sometimes ya gotta be away before ya can come back…or at the very least appreciate what ya left (for whatever reason).
I’ve always had a love/hate relationship with this place known as Las Cruces, New Mexico. Town where we moved for hubby to finish his degree at NMSU after we first got married; place filled with his side of the family or in other words: my in-laws. Not inherently a bad thing, just harder to make one’s mark on a new marriage when there are lots of others hovering overhead. Plus life in married student housing was fun except for the crash course in the myriad varieties of roaches and ants harbored and lurking within the requisite 300 square foot cinderblock walls…
Our first-born was indeed born there, in fact, she was the first baby born for the New Year that year (1982). Cool. We couldn’t wait for all the diapers and other baby items everyone said the city would be bestowing upon us because of that incident of nature; we really needed the help with that kind of stuff being poor students and all…except the year before, the city made such a big deal over Baby New Year that it backfired on them since there were some shady relatives, legal circumstances and secrets now publicly revealed surrounding the family that innocent baby was born into.
So, no freebies for us, though we did get a great write up in the local newspaper and enthusiastic announcements on several of the local radio stations.
Oh well, didn’t matter much since we left for the Bay area soon after hubby graduated – within the first month of our Havilah’s life – to pursue his new job at HP (Hewlett/Packard) as a little family without either side of our families too near. And that’s when we grew the most as a three-some; and when our hearts yearned to be closer to both our families…go figure!
After a few days we were back on the road. The familiar I-25 trail took us to Colorado in the usual 9-10 hour time frame. Also, since we know that route by heart, it is less stressful in terms of placement of rest stops and timing on the one gas fill-up necessary to complete the journey.
Bruno’s Purple Giants – Irises in the family and transplanted in our various gardens for almost 50 years (last vestiges shown here in a corner of Ma&Dad’s neglected garden)
© 2025 Laura Bruno Lilly
Theme by Anders Noren — Up ↑