September 11, 2025 Marred

I am pretty sure I am not the only one marred by events of 9-11-01. 

This date marred forever

"Send them back to class,

Come to the office," she whispered to

Reading, Music, Art teachers,

"Don't say anything to the children."

Keep them safe from the news

While we worried.

This date marred forever

We tried to call parents

Spotty cell service

Concerns mounting,

We could not know the extent

Planes, buildings, lives lost.

 

This date marred forever

Trains, bridges, roads shut down,

Many would not come home

Parents, friends, children, relatives

Were in those buildings, planes,

Hope dwindled.

This date marred forever

Memories, people, images, prayers,

A crystal-clear morning lost to

Ashen skies, a nation in shock

The mourning continues

For all lost to hate

For all marred forever. 

Did not answer, who tried to save.

September 9 Profiling

 

I am very lucky to live minutes from Broadway and I am grateful for 2 for 1 ticket season that makes great theater, like Hell's Kitchen, more available.

As I reflected on life in the 90s, I smiled thinking about the powerful music tying Keys' loosely autobiographical story together. I sighed thinking about the pervasive "stop and frisk" mentality.  And then I remember a mom of a kindergartener who long ago implored me to make her boy read saying, "He has to do good in school because he's black. He'll grow up to be a black teenager. You know what that means."  

Then, my mind wandered to yesterday's Supreme Court decision allowing stopping people based only on race or language. I thought of my former students who learned English as a second or new language and are now leading students, other teachers and school districts. My mind also wandered to thoughts about school shootings as I recalled a graphic about ethnicity of school shooters 1982-2025.  

I am sure that skin tone, religious beliefs, and native language do not determine any individual's right to live, love, and work in America nor do they indicate propensity towards crime.  How do we move away from profiling towards a society respectful of and embracing diverse cultures, perspectives, and viewpoints?  

September 8 Were the Beatles Right?

You've know the Beatles song, "Love, love, love, da da da da da, love, love, love, da da da da da, love is all you need." It was on shuffle repeat as I walked past my familiar early morning movers and shakers including John and Mary (pseudonyms) who move slowly but surely each morning while holding hands. In my opinion, they are the quintessential couple in our neighborhood. Always a smile and a good morning even when I doubt they are always happy and worry about the impacts of ongoing medical interventions. Their smiles would suggest that they day is off to a good start if they have the chance to go for a walk together in the early morning. If they music playing in their ears as they walked along, I think it would be closer to the Turtles lyrics, "So happy together, I can't see me loving nobody but you for all my life.

 

As I walked a bit further, I saw movers at the home of neighbors whose marriage ended before their wedding album was probably even delivered. I thought about the dissolution of my own marriage, without a trace, as if it never happened. There was a lot running through my brain as the Beatles shuffled in again and I hummed along to, "Is, is is, do, do do, do, is love all you need?" 

As I made coffee, I  remembered a NYTimes story from the summer suggesting love, like weeds, looks different for different people at different times.  Sari Bashi writes about her life as an Israeli-Palestinian family in the West Bank.  There are many powerful lines in her stories of love transcending politics, yet her most powerful line may be: 

        As the world continues to explode around us and my spouse’s family in Gaza struggles to survive, I         feel a fierce, desperate gratitude that we can still love each other. Love isn’t enough to protect us —         or anyone — but we plan to use it as a shield for as long as we can."  

It is possible that the revered songsters of long ago may have been influenced by hormones and a search for catchy song lyrics. But, I want to start this week in September remembering that love, the powerful force of caring about other humans is at the center of caring and the epicenter of human relationships even if it is not all you need!

September 5 Sew-Happy

 

Frankly, the news this morning scares me on every level: body, mind, heart. Wars in the Middle East, Far West, Europe, Asia and dropping bombs on ships in the Caribbean all at the same time? The rising cost of food, the continuing attacks on immigrants, and the confusing decisions of courts? Then, every once in a while, something catches my eye that makes me smile, like this article!

Granted, it was written about a crazy busy trend of learning to sew and alter things happening in NYC; however, like so many "trends" what happens there can seep into the suburbs and I have all kinds of hope that some store will come about to replace the sew-missed (pun intended) Joanne's which closed up shop earlier this year. 

In truth as all who know me know, I do have a "stash" of fabric thanks in large part to following my mother-in-law and my daughter on fabric missions over the years. So, until that new store opens somewhere, I will work down my stash and be sew-happy that sewing is new again!  Like the article suggests, "I feel like a Renaissance woman!" 

September 4 A Frittata

 

There was much on the front page to think and talk about today as court decisions, international military strikes, and challenges to vaccines were all headlines and made me cringe and sad to my core. Perhaps, that is why the recipe of the day at the bottom of the page, brought memories to my heart and a smile to my core.  

I had never even heard of a frittata until my mother-in-law introduced me to the always-ready-to-make-at-the-drop-of-a-hat-for-one-or-a-crowd-smile-guaranteed recipe.  Again and again, she produced them seemingly from left over veggies, wayward meats, or wilted zucchini in her fridge as a hungry child or grandchild descended on her kitchen.  Somehow, she should be smiling thinking the humble frittata is recommended in these trying times as a good comfort food in spite of the cost of eggs that would make her cringe!

In these challenging times, perhaps the frittata might just be a way to comfort our pockets and make us smile. It's going to be on my table tonight.

SOL25 September 2 Here We Go Again

Most of my family and friends are back in the business of teaching or learning now that summer is over. I guess that is why I consider Labor Day a day of reflection, thinking about the summer as well as ahead.  This summer, I saw two special shows that have shaped my thinking.

Crying on the Camino featured Celeste Manicelli, who inspires laughter and  self-reflection through retelling her trek of the Camino de Santiago. She recalls the challenge of your undies dangling off your backpack reminding us to change what we can, but to accept what we cannot change. Communal sleeping and eating arrangements are reminders that we are pilgrims on the same journey where we hope for the best and take what comes.  I certainly was inspired to reflect on my own journey!

I also saw Mamma Mia 2, where crazy dancing, gaudy clothes and  ABBA songs presented, at first, a different image, yet, similar lessons including having faith in yourself!  As we danced in standing ovation, every single person in that audience was smiling no matter what else had happened that day or what might loom ahead.

I am at the filled with hopes and prayers for all those heading back:
    

    * Have faith in yourself and keep a song in your heart (Mamma Mia, here we go again...)
    * Begin this journey with hope! (I have a dream, a song to sing, to help me cope with anything...)

    * We are all on this journey, just at different places!

Schoolbag in hand, they leave home early morning

Waving goodbye with an absent minded smile

I watch them go with a surge of that well known sadness

And I have to sit down for a while.

Slipping through my fingers all the time

I try to capture every minute, the feeling in it

Each time I think I'm close to knowing

They keep on growing

Slipping through my fingers all the time