The Story Within
There was a time in my life when I felt like my body was a “Portal of Life.” You know, a “host” for others to live upon.
“What?”
Between the ages of 36 to 40 years old I was either prepping my body for pregnancy, pregnant, or breastfeeding (rinse and repeat).
I watched a lot of the Rosie O’Donnell and Oprah shows. Long (precious-really) hours spent sitting and breastfeeding (portal of life: ‘P of L’) gave me the opportunity to watch these shows and to have a little bit of Mommy Time. I would laugh, cry, and feel like I was given permission to be in the moment to feel.
I remember one Oprah episode where she demonstrated how EVERYONE has a story to share. She decided to depict this by choosing from people who worked in the industry that she had helped create; she chose her garage manager at HarpoStudios in Chicago, Illinois.
I loved this episode! This man had a story to tell. He was much more than what his job depicted and yet he took pride in all that he did. His contribution toward society impacted the lives of many. But what I found especially humbling about this man, was that his societal contributions didn’t impress upon him as obligatory or unusual. He contributed his money, time and energy because he simply thought it necessary - and frankly, he loved caring for others.
He had a story to tell.
I think the magic of Oprah, especially during this time in her career, was that she was able to relate to the common person - P of Lifers like myself. She never forgot her impoverished upbringing in Kosciusko, Mississippi and the abuse and neglect she endured as a child. It was stories that helped her escape that existence - and this was the link that later assisted her in becoming relatable, especially to a new mother like me: AKA Portal of Life.
What if Santa drove a Zamboni?
My family went ice skating two days before Christmas and what would have been my dad’s 99th birthday. Now my dad transitioned 10 years ago, and he is often described as a cross between Frank Sinatra and Bob Hope. As an Armed Services YMCA Program Director, he loved to sing and entertain people!
He would have loved to have seen Santa driving a Zamboni!
In the eyes of this child looking upon Santa, can you imagine the story residing within him?
Our Traditions are important to us.
Just ask anyone how they carve a pumpkin or decorate a Christmas Tree?
There are stories surrounding us at every given moment.
My mind often travels to personifying the bus stop as a witness to the millions of people who stand beside it. Animating the sign who perhaps offers comfort to the worried student struggling to get to school on time, or the weary housekeeper who cares for the family who employs her but frets about the family she’s left at home awaiting for her return.
Awaiting for the arrival of our children as they return home for the holidays, we begin the traditions long established by our family: The placement of the angel at the top of the tree; wrapping presents by the fireplace; going ice skating in an outdoor rink.
Perhaps these are events activating a new story or perhaps they are activities eventually awaiting for the story to continue?
Too Much?
My husband calls it an “Urban Sleigh Ride.” It’s when we pile into the car and drive around our neighborhood (and sometimes surrounding neighborhoods) to look at decorations.
High in the Avenues (our neighborhood) lives a family who annually goes all out! The home has been named "Frosty's Winter Wonderland" for the Christmas season.
The homeowner is Forrest Nunley. He started with a yard display of Christmas decorations three decades ago. Every year he adds to the array of colorful decorations. He starts in October to get his decorations ready for the Christmas season.
He lights up the block leaving the block enlightened! People love him and he loves people.
The Story Within
We attended a dinner party in Ogden this year. We all ate in covered wagons. This was a first. I’m not sure I could tell the story of these poor animals - they may make me too sad.
However, I CAN tell you the story of these two.
You see, they were each rescued at the Best Friends Animal Sanctuary in Kanab, Utah. Our family dog is the one on the right, Buddy. Tessie, the blonde, is our guest for the holidays.
Each morning, while preparing a latte, I grind the coffee beans. This has become an audible cue for our dogs to come downstairs to the kitchen for a morning treat. They sit in the same position each day awaiting their snack. If they are ‘out of their proper position’ they rearrange themselves to get into their routine position.
I didn’t teach them this.
They created their own rules.
On this particular day, I grinded the beans twice.
Only these two came downstairs for “seconds.”
The senior dog remained upstairs. (she knows it’s a one treat deal)
These two were breaking their own self imposed rule.
Why?
Was it their Sanctuary upbringing?
Like Oprah, was it their early neglect that persisted into their later years?
What is their story?
Everyone has a story.
What is yours?
(BTW, I gave them a second treat. Shhh, don’t tell the senior dog upstairs)
