The Agony and The Ecstasy

Morning, folks.  :)

Some days when I awaken, I am filled with sensations from past memories and experiences. They sift through my mind during the morning and finally fade as I fully engage with the day. Today I remember my uncle, my mom's older brother by more than twenty years, who taught me the joy of reading. I grew up reading a lot and being read to by my lovely babysitter, who is still like a mother to me today! We read together so many classics and the Roman and Greek tragedies. I loved fairy tales from Hans Christian Anderson to Norse legends (my favorite) and even Russian folk tales (with Baba Yaga). I treasured the weekends when my mom would come and lie in my bed for a little while and read me a story on occasion. She'd tell me stories about brave and noble people. Sometimes, she'd sing to me. She's got a beautiful voice.

When I was ten years old, I stayed over at my uncle's house for the summer. It was really hot and I was bored. My brother was away on a day trip having an adventure and I was not too happy to be left behind. My uncle was an ambassador and he was busy with many people that day. He saw my bored expression though and came over to me. He said, "You can never be bored when you've got a book." Then he led me to his library and told me to pick out any book I wanted. I figured I should get a big book to last the day so I picked out The Agony and the Ecstasy by Irving Stone.

If you have not read it before, the book is about Michelangelo. It's beautifully and simply written. Maybe that is redundant - beautiful and simple - since any good communication would be simple, wouldn't it? Anyways, I picked this book up and plopped down in one of the comfy chairs in the lounge area. I got interested right away. I looked up after a few minutes to see my uncle smiling at me. He nodded and left.

It was almost evening when he returned. I remember because the sky was purple and orange. I felt a slight desperation - I had just a few more pages left to read, twenty at most. I did not want to stop. My uncle came towards me. He looked surprised and asked me if I had eaten. I said no as I was waiting for him to come. He smiled and then I said more honestly, "Well actually, I wanted to finish the book so I told my mom I would wait for you." He laughed. He said he would wash up and then after I was ready, we could eat together. And so we did.

Since that time, I have loved books. From the age of ten to fifteen, I read every possible book I could get my hands on. That education was priceless. I found when I went to graduate school that I was reading the books I read at ten.

These days I think, with such a wonderful beginning, how could I not be an author today?

Father's Day

Happy Father’s Day to all the wonderful dads out there! Thank you for doing what you do and being who you are.

I had a great dad. He made me feel so loved, secure and wanted, I thought I could conquer the world. He was tall - 6 foot 3.5 inches and used to play national hockey. He was also very artistic and a mechanical engineer. But I know him best for his big bear hugs, sitting on his shoulders while we cruised through streets and stores, and spoiling me.

My dad came from a royal, aristocratic family. He was the only boy with four sisters. He grew up in a huge home with tons of property and several dogs. He had actual courage and defended his sisters and was a good son, brother, friend, and student. He was fun-loving, playful and stubborn. He was also very gentle.

My father died when I was 5 1/2. But he left me with such loving memories and a strong belief in the goodness of people and the possibilities in life. He was proud of me - fearless, confident, and playful as I was back then. He encouraged that in me and brought it out of me. He was the kind of person who was self-confident enough and generous enough that he could accept his four-year-old daughter was brilliant, smarter than he was (he was bright. no doubt) and be proud of her. The best father I could ever have! ❤️✨ He was our Sun! With that kind of love, how can you not be happy and want to do your best? Writing about him helps me remember what matters. I guess it is time now to go out and do that!

I still love tall men. : )