Mary's Heartbeats

I busied myself wi th the weekly task of housecleaning.  I kne w it was the day of the big game.  For years, it had ended in disappointment with UCLA being trounced by USC.  But this year, the football season was going surp risingly well for the Bruins.  So maybe in an attempt to "n ot mess it up for them," I scrubbed and vacuumed.  I read my son's te xt with the news "We did it! !! Go Bruins!"  Wow, that was awesome news, but it came at the same time I got the call about Mom Ruth being hospitalized that morning with aspiration p neumonia, now on a ventilator . . .  It's weird to go from ecstatic elation to sudden sadness in the pit of your stomach.  I seem to be a harbor for bad news.  In fact I find that my mood seems to match the dark days of Fall.  I have momentary episodes of crying over "sp i lled milk episodes" of life.  But history allows no "do-overs," you must keep moving on.  In the morning during my yoga clas...

I stepped up onto the first tee , unusually calm and confident.  Maybe it was because I had had a good practice session last Friday.  Maybe it was that I was once again on a beautiful course, on a warm Fall day, and just happy to be able to have one more chance at playing golf.  I  always find hope with each new round: h ope that I will do better than the last round of golf; and h ope that I have f inally developed a bit more consistency with my shots.  Hope that to day, I will redeem myself . . . Of course, with all my confidence came the reality that our two-some would also have another single golf player with us.  But even that did not unnerve me like it had done so many times before.  Maybe, I was finally able to put out of my head the anxiety that came with other golfers watching me .  I have realized that when I am out practicing, I am not bother ed by having other golfers right next to me.  I still go through my own routine and s...

My heart sunk . . . again.  It seems to be the course of my life.  It's one thing to have your hopes and dreams dashed, but to have them boldly slaughtered in front of you takes your breath away.  Words, thoughts, images are powerful.  What is said is a reflection of the heart.  Nurturing a heart to grow favorably and in step with God is a responsibility I was eager to embrace.  But it's that heart that spurns me now and all I stand for. Maybe I'm just too sensitive, maybe not.  Just when I seem to be getting over disappointments here comes another.  I have given up the struggle of trying to make things work out, I realize I do not control outcomes. If I didn't have relationships then I wouldn't have to deal with this pain.  Life is certainly a two edged sword, to engage in it means to open yourself to pain and sorrow.  I even wonder why would God Himself ever take on human skin to experience such agony?  I do not want to be pes...

Sitting in church, I listened intently.  My ears were hearing words from the pulpit, but I was pondering the ones in my head.  The passage spoken about came from the writing of the Apostle Paul as he was encouraging the church in town of Philippi.  He closes his letter by reminding the people to focus on things that matter: being true, virtuous, and honorable in word and deed.  In practicing these things, "the God of peace shall be with you."  Yet even more importantly, Paul said that he had learned to be content in whatever circumstances he had faced (Philippians 4: 8-11).  No matter what, contentment ruled his heart . . .  So I wondered, where was all this fear and projected negativity coming from? Words formed as a plea to make a point of voting "Biblical Values" this year.  Yet, to me it was ironic to preach on the Biblical value of contentment and still voice such discontentment with our present circumstances.  To me it seems that wa...

"I know, O Lord, that Thy judgments are righteous, and that in faithfulness Thou hast afflicted me."   (Psalm 119: 75) "Man, this dirt is hard!"  I spoke out loud to myself.  I was trying to dig in the fresh compost into my front flowerbed.  The sun's rays were adding to my frustration of dealing with the constipated soil.  I was only able to get the shovel in half way, because of hitting old roots or rocks.  I hadn't planned on all of this extra effort, for I had thought that it was a job that I would finish in an hour, and yet the reality turned into 3 hours.  I realized that probably by the end of next Spring, I would have the bigger task of actually pulling everything up from that bed, separating all the bulbs, redoing the compost, and replanting it entirely.  At least by the time I got to my vegetable beds, that soil turned much easier, and I breathed a sigh of relief. . .  I was covered with dirt, despite my gloves and j...

Quietly, I make my way through the darkened hallway.  My plan is to get out early, before the course gets crowded with carts and players.  Of course, Goldyn thinks I'm moving him out this morning for our usual run, but I promise him we'll run when I get back.  I could never imagine myself doing this ever before . . . can I really play a round a golf alone? But here I am, my golf bag on my back.  I've essentially got the back nine to myself for now.  I have to chuckle, I am doing things I never dreamed of.  If only my Daddio could see me now!  He was such an encourager to me when I first took up golf.  I was so timid and self conscious, I would never have thought that I would be so bold to go and golf myself.  Yet, now it's different.  Mrs. Kim my former morning partner doesn't like to golf in heat, and has joined her sister at a golf course much farther than the one right down the street.  In spite of my inconsistent game, I hav...

Here I go again, standing on the first tee.  I swing and the ball takes off like a rocket.  It appears to be heading straight down the line, until the very end.  It takes an unlikely bump and "rick-a-shays" off to the right, into the trees, and down the hill towards the out of bounds fence.  What is it about this game?  No matter how much you think you've got your swing perfected, the ball seems to still have a mind of its own! I'm off now on my search for my favorite golf ball.  It seems that the ground has a selfish ability to swallow up balls.  I'm sure I spotted exactly where it landed and bounced out, but there is nothing in sight as I walk back and forth in vain.  I've learned that you must move on with this game.  After a reasonable look, you drop a new ball from where you went out, and press on.  Some other golfer will probably get the pleasure of finding your ball . . . Life is full of paradox. It's difficult to make sense...

I just don't get it.  One minute, I am swinging the golf club consistently and landing in the fairway, and in the matter of just a few holes, I have collapsed.  My demise started setting in as I grew more self conscious with my stupid shots.  No one really goes onto the course planning to make terrible shanks and hooks.  And usually, even if you have done that you do have a sense of what you did wrong.  But none the less, it leaves you feeling even more frustrated with what you thought would be a super fun day. That's when it starts, it resonates in my head.  Those negative tapes of self.  I'm not sure why or where that all stems from, but maybe it has come from growing up somewhat in a fishbowl and finding yourself compared so often to others.  But perhaps it is a part of who I am, a hard critic of myself, with no else to blame or fault.  I am my own worst enemy. . . Of course, when we feel vulnerable we build defenses.  So what...

That was odd . . . I rubbed my eyes.  I peered into the lighted water of the Jacuzzi only to be met with the big eyes and grin of a very furry puppy! It kept on looking up at me, I couldn't walk away.  I reached on in and pulled out what ended up being a squirmy kitten. I did my best to hold it high above my head, as Goldyn bounced and jumped around me to land his paws on it . . . whew!  The next thing I knew, there was ol' Quasimoto, running his best towards me.  But between him and me was the widest span of mucky, muddy water.  Quasi was weighted down, with his shaggy hair slick with the black tarry stuff.  I sensed his fear as I saw him trying his best to get the sticky goo off his feet, so he would gain some traction.  I heard my self shouting for those around him to help get across.  Help him, help him! Guide him here to me!  He dived on in the murky muck, bobbing up and down, turning into a blackened blob of slime.  The next thing ...

My back begins to readjust as my feet are flat up against the wall.  I begin to breathe deeply and slowly as I listen to her calming voice.  One of the best things that I have learned from my yoga teacher is to approach each day with an attitude of gratitude.  Every class, she starts us off with time to pause, reflect, and name all that we are thankful for.  I hear other "yogis" recite their grateful words or phrases.  Doing just that takes the focus off of self and seems to energize me for the poses that we do.  I come away from class invigorated. But I have discovered that really is the best attitude to have even when I'm not at class.  Contentment comes from gratefulness.  For me, gratefulness is combined with praise to God for all He is and has done for me.  I naturally have a tendency to be an ideal realist. I hope for the best, but endure the reality.  It is what it is . . .  However, as I put up with whatever comes my way...

What a week!  What a turn of events!  It seemed impossible to even begin to process all that had happened.  Their emotions had risen high with expectation of a new kingdom and righteous King, but then dashed apart with the unexpected, gruesome crucifixion of the One they had put their feeble faith and hope in.  Yet, within a few days, they had actually seen this very One alive, even able to put their hands into his nail pierced hands and side.  But what in the world was the meaning of this all?  What is God intending?  What now?  Was this all just some surreal dream or fog they had stumbled in to? "I'm going fishing."  Peter announced this to his friends after arriving back home.  It had to be good to at least find and see things that made sense to you.  The fresh sea air, the small boats bobbing in the harbor, and the expectation of catching fish made life seem real again.  Fishing was something they didn't have to think a...

Today marks the fifth anniversary of my Daddio's passage from this life.  His death came one week earlier than my Mother who had passed on five years before he did.  It seems strange to live these days without them, somehow you think your parents are always going to be there.  I still find myself yearning for at least one more conversation with them.  I often recognize in myself some of their behaviors, like eating breakfast cereal with a giant spoon or having a closet full of dresses and shoes that I've had for at least 20 years.  But one of the best things they impressed on me was having joy with family.  Daddio was  especially content and happy when surrounded by his family.  He often would remark how blessed he was and how he completely loved being with his family.  His eyes would sparkle and he'd have the biggest wide tooth grin whenever he would tell us that, and it was often enough that you never forgot that fact. . .  So I...

I've got the best running shoes ever!  Running shoes were at the top of my list for this year's birthday gift.  I must admit though I was a bit skeptical of my husband's suggestion to order them off the Internet.  Usually, I go and try shoes on especially checking out the comfort and support for my feet.  But now I would have to just wait until they arrived.  The reviews were positive.  Putting them on was like wearing a snug stocking.  Actually, very comfortable as if you didn't even have a shoe on!  Instantly, I noticed there was no sensation of a thick heel, and to my surprise, it made quite a difference.  Trying them out for their first run was like running on air.  I couldn't get over how comfortable such a light shoe was.  No wonder these shoes are called "Nike Free!"  Plus, they are the color of a brilliant lime green!  Certainly, that will aid in guiding me on my path.  So, yes all has been quite well wi...

Looking into her eyes is looking through the years of history.  Those deep blue eyes were Granny's.  I remember how big they looked behind her thick glasses.  The glasses magnified  the sparkle of joy and humor always found within them.  She was the only grandparent I really had.  Her husband had died before I was born, and my mother's parents had been deceased as well.  She seemed to make up for that though, as she was always filled with "oceans of love."   Granny loved us, her open arms and wide grin warmly greeted us whenever we would visit. Her hugs engulfed you.  She would have a homemade meal waiting for our arrival, especially made by her and Aunt Lucille.  Often we would eat out on their enclosed front porch during the hot summer days.  Dessert would be her signature "Sunshine Cookies," white puffy cookies with scalloped edges that always made you want more.  Her eyes teased you to indulge as she passed the coo...

Each day, the flowers seem to unfold before my eyes!  It was such a great surprise to come home from a very busy day and find the beautiful purple arrangement there in the kitchen sink, just waiting for my attention.  Right next to it was a card, exclusively for "Mary Strubhar."  It was an early Mother's Day gift from my son!  My response was to melt with warm tears flowing down my cheeks.  There's nothing like being loved for being just Mom .   It's times like these that I think I understand my own Mom so much better.  The only thing is that all my insight into this knowledge has come too late for me to share with her.  I would love to have a conversation today with her.  I wish I would have been more sensitive to her tears that I often didn't get.  I knew that those tears were evidence of her passion and love, although I didn't really know the depth of that love until unfortunately she had gone.  Oh, I always knew she lov...

I pounded on the bedroom sliding glass door, "Hey, you!  Watch this!"  I did it again until I got the response, "What?" Up to the grassy area I went, and with almost perfect precision I executed my 2nd round off.  My landing was a tiny more wobbly than when I did the first one out of sight at the other end of the yard.  "What are you thinking?" my husband called from the room, "You could kill yourself doing those things, don't you know your age? You are supposed to be wiser not foolish. . . "  I chuckled to myself, yea, I can still do a cartwheel or round off, after all these years, it's gotta be my strong core!. . . I have had a good week, not as depressing as I thought.  It is somewhat odd to find yourself at the start of your senior years.  My oldest brother, of course, reminded me of the fact that I am officially now a full fledged member of AARP. Yet, I actually  feel more empowered with life.  I appreciate the goodness that God ...