We all take different paths in life, but no matter where we go, we take a little of each other everywhere.
-Unkown
Quotation
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Author Archives: Cindy Blackstock
Reunion
As a blogger, I consider myself fortunate that inspiration comes easily and in a timely manner. I knew this week I would be focusing on my class reunion. What I didn’t know is what emotions would be elicited after seeing my former classmates. Decades have passed since we embarked on our own personal journeys and our paths were different from one another. I have admitted to initially being a cynic where reunions were concerned. For the longest time I felt our connection was random due to being the same age and having parents with a desire to have us attend parochial school. I couldn’t imagine what else would have brought us together. Now that I have a bounty of life experience under my belt, I appreciate that what I thought was random was actually a collective of those with whom I have a shared history.
Our gatherings this weekend were evidence that our conversations reflected our current status in life and we have not been stagnant. Years ago we spoke of higher education and opportunities. With the addition of years, we shared news of our profession, marriage and children. It is not an exaggeration to note that the greater portion of our lives is behind us. Now we speak of retirement and those who proudly wear the title of grandparent. There was such a sense of joy to be in one another’s company. No competition, no cliques, nothing but cohesion and acceptance carried us. Time has not tarnished our relationships and it was so easy to share conversation and memories.
There appeared to be an overriding opinion, spoken by many. We were fortunate to live safely in our little communities, untouched by danger and unrest. Even though the world was facing difficult times, we felt privileged to grow up where and when we did. Although somewhat naïve, we might not have recognized that there were some classmates that were challenged by issues at home. At the time we weren’t aware and if we were, I doubt we would have had resources to offer support. Everyone put on a brave face and met life with a belief that faith would safely bring us through it. Constantly reminded of the golden rule it would take years to take it to heart and develop a profound sense of empathy. Being in the company of my classmates proved that they have not only acquired empathy but admirable traits and personalities.
After all these years we made up for lost time in a period of two evenings. Laughter ensued as memories were shared and stories repeated. We recalled the times we pushed the envelope, and reveled in our immortality. We recognized the loss of classmates who were not as fortunate to enjoy a long life. The loss of parents and some siblings have become the norm. How will we choose to honor our connection in the future? I have the sense that those students, who once wore uniforms and walked silently in double file, will choose to continue to figuratively walk with one another. The scenery looks different than it did as angst filled teenagers but the unity we enjoy will help guide us through the next stages. Who better to understand than one with a shared history?
Cheated
I believe in life after death. I don’t share that to impose my beliefs upon anyone. I do so to explain the basis of this blog and why, after a certain experience, I felt cheated. I believe in eternity and that life goes on in an energetic or soul-based way. I know for certain this is the result of being raised in a Christian home. In my case, the veil has always been thin and I know the presence of loved ones, those who have gone before, are not far removed.
I have had procedures and operations that had me flex my faith muscles and pray that I would be healthier when coming out on the other side. Never did I expect a routine examination to bring me close to crossing the line. There was a time that I hadn’t been feeling well and a friend offered to drive me to an appointment. The facility wasn’t close and I was grateful that I didn’t need to deal with the distance and traffic. Upon our arrival I left her behind in the waiting room and made my way to an examination room. I don’t recall exactly but I am sure I shared my recent health concerns with the doctor. At some point during the examination, I see darkness enveloping me and the room. Before all this darkness beset me, I faintly remember hearing the doctor ask me if I was okay. Without warning I went into sudden cardiac arrest.
While I was under, the doctor frantically called for a crash cart. He was new to this location and didn’t know where this equipment was kept. He began chest compressions on me to keep my blood circulating. My friend, still sitting in the waiting room, was aware that an emergency was taking place down the hall. In her wildest imagination she could not have envisioned that I was the one causing the commotion. The steps that were taken were successful. My heart beat was restored and I regained consciousness. As I opened my eyes, I was surrounded by a group of people that were not there when the darkness enveloped me. I felt stunned and awkward. I was informed of the events that took place and the group of people, staring at me so intently, soon dissipated.
Once totally revived I was given time to recover and become more alert. As time passed, I began to wonder if my episode could be considered a near death experience. It saddens me to think that my encounter only offered me a solo trip into darkness. My parents weren’t there to tell me I had to go back, there was no bright light, and there was no out of body experience. I felt cheated. Where was the warmth and love others have expressed upon their return? I do not have a death wish and am grateful that my cardiac arrest was reversed and I didn’t suffer any lingering effects. Still, I wonder. Did I not meet some critical threshold that would determine if I had almost died. I don’t want to think, when the reality of death should occur, that it brings a dark void. It goes against everything I have ever believed. Maybe this was not a test run and possibly my feeling of being cheated is misplaced. I don’t want to tempt fate and feel it is wise to leave this to be continued, hopefully far into the future.
Quotation
“Life is uncertain. Eat dessert first.”
– Ernestine Ulmer
Chocolate Peanut Butter
My friend and I had stopped at a local coffeehouse for lunch some time ago. The location was named for the trainline that ran through town. The atmosphere there is warm and inviting. An old house was converted to become one of the town’s newest eateries. If you are fortunate, while dining, you can experience the train traveling at a high rate of speed almost within arm’s reach. That particular afternoon we chose reasonably healthy meals. Before we left, mainly out of curiosity, we checked out the dessert menu and witnessed the most fabulous creation of baked delights: chocolate peanut butter cake.
The description of this cake demands a paragraph all its own. First, the cake was more of a layered torte. It was cut to the size of a graham cracker, although much thicker. Upon the first layer of cake a decadent filling of peanut butter was piped in a swirling fashion. This was capped with another layer of cake and peanut butter, until there were a total of three layers of cake. Upon witnessing this dessert offering it was no longer the train ringing in my ears, but rather the ethereal voice of angels. Yes, as cliché as it seems, it truly appeared to be a heavenly feast. At that time the feast was for our eyes alone, but a plan was hatched.
I have always considered chocolate peanut butter the best mood altering substance. It can be candy, it can be cake, it can be ice cream, it really doesn’t matter. It simply has to be a combination of chocolate and peanut butter. Although my thighs think it should be outlawed I feel pleased that my vice is not illegal. Knowing that the coffeehouse has such a fine example of dessert I knew it would not be long until there would be a rationalized excuse to consume a piece. We agreed, not only would there be a future order, but we would make it our meal. Gleefully we left the coffeehouse knowing that one day we would return to find a stacked confections of chocolate and peanut butter alongside steaming cups of coffee at our table.
That day arrived and we were seated just prior to lunch. Several of the tables were taken and no one took notice as our coffee was brought and our order was placed. The waitress was a bit concerned that the cake might still retain its chill from refrigeration. After all, she stated, no one has ever ordered the cake so early in the day. The chatter among the other diners was brought to a halt as two plates stacked with the sinful indulgence made its way to our table. The waitress, aware of the diner’s thoughts, announced that we were having dessert for lunch. Whispers were exchanged and heads turned. Those who followed the stride of the waitress settled on us with looks of both humor and envy. Our escape to find comfort among the calories did not go unnoticed. I suspect that our mission, so successful in our minds, might have a life of its own as others either recounted what they witnessed or chose to one day follow in our footsteps.
As we left the coffeehouse the sky opened and the drizzle turned to rain. With our goal met we understood that the issues in life would remain but our diversion was helpful. Our lips found it just a bit easier to curve into a smile and laugh at the world with the remnant of that cake upon them.
Quotation
“I’m about caring, I’m about people, and I’m about entertaining people. I’m a family man. A husband. A father. I’ve been a lot of other things over the years, which we don’t really want to talk about.”
-Ozzy Osbourne
Iron Man and Rusty Tears
Those who have been fans of Ozzy Osbourne might recognize the title of a Black Sabbath song and make the assumption that this blog is a tribute. That could easily be a misconception as I was never a fan of Ozzy’s. Heavy metal, head bangers and biting bats never had a place in my life. As a teenager, behind my bedroom door, my orange stereo with the polka dot speakers would play a more mellow genre of music. I think my brothers might have thought about planning an intervention to lessen the grip of Elton John and have me give equal time to some of my other favorites. Without admitting it, my brothers’ constant guitar riffs might have been a way to drown out my selections. Again, Ozzy was never found among my choice of James Taylor, Carole King and the harmony of America. So now, upon his death, why do I find myself crying?
The media has been inundated with Ozzy’s life story. Unless you have been living under a rock, there has been no way to miss the good, the bad and the ugly. He has led a life of extremes. He is not the only one who has fallen down as a result of addiction and infidelity. His language was salty enough to make a sailor blush. Yet when others have walked these paths, they are not the fodder of major news stories. Ozzy’s mistakes were made on the world stage and the admissions he made were just as large. What I missed by avoiding his music and reality show was the man behind the entertainer. It turns out the Prince of Darkness was actually a generous and loving family man. He especially relished time spent with his children and grandchildren. Is the Osbourne family unique? In many ways, yes. Who among us find cameras following our every movement? I am certain there is no one in my circle who boasts the same balance in their bank accounts. Yet, even as a proverbial rock star, he appears to have been very human.
I have been wondering why I, so new to all this information, have had such a strong reaction to his death. I sobbed as I watched the family make their way to Black Sabbath Bridge. Their pain and loss was so clearly evident in their countenance that I believe anyone would be hard pressed not to be moved. Seeing this video repeated several times over brought the same reaction. I had an overwhelming feeling that my tears had been stashed away, lying in wait for the appropriate time.
Tears bring us into this world. A mother excitedly waits to hear that first cry. Childhood tears can be the result of skinned knees. Those that might make themselves present during the teen years can express hurt feelings from not being accepted by a certain social group or maybe a fleeting first love. Adult tears may be produced from an entirely profound depth. The tears I found coming so easily to the surface due to Ozzy’s death were unexpected but still profound. It’s as if they were rusty, returning to the surface deep from the well. There are those, like Ozzy, who leave something tangible behind for the world. That is countered by the reality that fame and money can’t buy you health or a longer life. Then there are the rest of us who were also given the precious gift of life, whose lives might not be as grand but are every much as important. Life is fleeting and there comes a time when do-overs become rare. If I have learned anything from Ozzy’s transition is the importance of doing what you love. Now is the time. With this knowledge I will wipe my tears and instead give a salute to Ozzy and be a Dreamer going through Changes.
Quotation
“People are more than just the way they look.”
-MADELEINE L’ENGLE
More Than Skin Deep
What you see is what you get. I have finally made it to the time in life where I am not chasing fashion trends. If the truth be known, I don’t think I ever spent much time in that category. I have reached the stage where I choose to dress for comfort. Some might say I look like a grandmother, although I am not one. My hair is gray and it is a simple style that doesn’t require much upkeep. I am well aware that I carry more weight on my frame than I should. I dress like my mother did. I don’t shy away from pants with elastic or embroidered tops. I prefer flats to heels. I have never had anything so important to me that I would sit and endure hundreds of pin pricks for a tattoo. My only piercings are the single ones in each ear lobe. Translated: I would like to think I am relevant but my appearance doesn’t equate to being cool.
Before I retired, I had the opportunity to work with a new hire. She came in as a manager and it was my responsibility to mentor her. I worked for a behavioral health organization and we were very accepting of those who felt comfortable in their skin and often marched to the beat of their own drum. The new manager fell into this category. Her style of dress was a bit on the goth side. I don’t recall seeing her in any color beyond black, deep purple or navy blue. She had invested her time in piercings and tattoos that exemplified what she found important in life. She had a verse tattooed around her neck and try as I might I could never read the entire script. Finally, I had to ask her what it said. I share this with you so you can picture the two of us working together. To say it was enjoyable, was an understatement. There was a camaraderie that formed quickly. What could have been a challenge was never an issue for us. It wasn’t long before we learned we shared an interest in the paranormal and an appreciation of Freddie Mercury.
It may be cliché but you truly can’t judge a book by its cover. I was in the yarn aisle of a craft store and found myself in conversation with another customer whose appearance greatly differed from mine. She had bright pink hair and several piercings. She brought out her recent project and explained she needed more of one of the colors. She was there trying to find a match. Together we went up and down the aisles comparing colors and blends. I have heard that in the future handcrafted items will be a thing of the past. I thought it was refreshing to see a younger woman be so accomplished in crochet. Another recent trip I did come across an actual grandmother who shared some commonality with me. Through our conversation I learned that she had been assisted by the disaster relief agency where I had once worked. She also mentioned she was interested in having her grandson receive services from the agency from which I had recently retired. It makes me smile to think about what pleasant conversations I might have missed if we hadn’t reach out to one another.
These encounters also bring to mind the good fortune I had of working with another staff member who called me her work mom. Although we are different races and generations, we developed a close relationship. We do share the same values and appreciation of family. Once she asked me how old I was and then declared I could actually be her work grandmother! I have learned that being judgmental could rob me of welcome experiences. Additionally, I am grateful that others have been open minded to see that I too might just have something of interest to share, something that goes beyond skin deep.
Quotation
” The littlest feet make the biggest footprints in our hearts.”
-Unknown
Harvesting Life 