A matter of conversation

How do we manage in times when conversations are tough? I'm thinking along  the lines of communication that does not transpire because a person (or people) meaningful to you has passed away, a connection was lost by time and/or distance, a bridge no longer exists between differences of opinion, a little regret built an insurmountable wall preventing possibility to flourish or a demand stands in the way of real understanding.

I was blessed with a mother and sister that thrived on delivering encouragement and love, not just during the holidays but even on the odd days. Their deaths left a huge void in my immediate environment in terms of a real time experience (note, I do believe our loved ones that have passed away cheer us on from some kinder place). Over time, I have collected close friends that recognize this gap in my daily experience who constantly deliver profound motivation unconditionally. I've become acquainted with individuals that add to the quality of my life experience.  I discovered a father who moved beyond his own grief and fundamentalism to reach out to me in a way that allowed a fuller relationship that also included humor and recognizable milestones.

A kind word is never untimely no matter how it gets delivered.

We age and grow away from where we once stood. That's inevitable as humans. While some may critique the over-share environment of social media networks I say look past the infatuation of some and get to the heart of others and experience the opportunity these outlets provide. While one may never regain what once existed with places and individuals in our past, sometimes through these networks a whole host of people find they made and continue to make a difference in the unfolding of our lives.

See the value in even the smallest of gestures.

The point at which politics, gender identity and religion separate us should be the juncture where we marshall acceptance. That what we do, how we do it and where it plays out is exactly the place where peace exists. Granted value systems vary greatly and some are pretty hard to manage from an individual frame of reference, but I for one relish the part that diversity offers in capturing understanding.

Make love not war.

What did not happen at a certain point in time does not make it the end of the world nor is it removed from possibility. We can't let our age, children (or lack of children), or money determine our possibilities to engage in life. Certainly our physical bodies have shortcomings, but age truly is a state of mind and living younger in an age frame that keeps extending itself makes that more true than false. Children, well there's no greater way to make a difference in tomorrow than spending time with a child today (yours or someone else's). Mentors, tutors, foster parents, neighbors, friends and/or teachers all build characters that will carry the future. Memory is a powerful gift to give someone at any age under a whole host of circumstances. And face it, there's never enough money even when there's plenty. The years following the fall out of the U.S. economy have been difficult for many and no one is walking through it without reservations, without struggling, without pain (well a small 1% but this post is about those of us staying afloat as best we can).  

Grow beyond the limitations and grasp the opportunities that speak to your best effort.

Anyone who uses ridicule or places demands of obedience and submission as the means to frame love or acceptance is not really offering anything of the sort. And yet with good will and determination we can find a way to engage these individuals with a great deal of compassion. In truth, I found author William Paul Young. If you are inclined, check out Mr. Young's FaceBook page where he daily inserts a phrase with a pretext of "Words you will never hear God say...."  For example, Words you will never hear God say, "I want you to be someone else." ~ Words you will never hear God say, "It all comes down to rewards and punishment." ~  Words you will never hear God say, "Belief is only about the head."  Insert Allah, Yahweh, Universe or whomever/whatever gives you the leverage to rise above is my best advice. So the next time that naysayer in your life starts rattling off dark dogma simply say to yourself  "Words you will never hear [God] say..." and if necessary say it out loud.

Compassion sometimes requires that we think creatively.


Life is a matter of conversation...today, tomorrow and even down the road.

Day 9: All shut-eye ain't sleep. And all goodbye ain't gone. "The Other Mother"

Ann-Marie:

I spend a great deal of time encouraging people to jump into "the conversation." Some days it's about keeping a brand presence in the media stream, other days it's about speaking up to make difference in a community, and still others it's about surrounding oneself with the people that make the greatest difference in your life.

The deaths of both my mother and sister left huge voids in my life, but the unconditional love and words of my own "other mothers" have filled that space with a great deal of abundance. Some years, the only sense of family I had. And now years later as my father has found his own way past grief and relinquished a strictly conservative point of view I find that "rememoir" serves as a catalyst for healing a relationship that lay dormant for way too many years.  Many of the conversations I've shared publicly in reconnecting with my father are couched in humor...as two individuals in later life walking past what they don't know and can't remember has its levity in bonding. I imagine the stories and conversations the readers find in the book keep Bryne alive for you. We tend to do that with the people we hold dear.

Teresa:

I never tired of listening to Byrne's stories.  Over  the course of living with her when she had the blood clot, her memories flowed into mine.  Especially the love stories involving Duncan.  I was so young and so yearning for examples of
real, mutual, respectful love that I made them into a fairy tale.  It was naive, at first.  But gradually I realized that Bryne had choreographed parts of the story. At first I felt cheated when I learned that Duncan wasn't what she had led me to believe (that's as much as I can say without spoiling the ending for those of you who haven't read it yet.) Let's just say I figured it out before it was too late.  Here's a moment from a difficult conversation we had on the porch, over a glass of wine.

"We're always," Byrne started to say before she shifted back to past tense. "We were always joined at the hip and people used to tease me, asking if Duncan always held my hand or if it was just for show." I was surprised Bryne cared what others thought. "I knew we were equals, true partners in life's journey.  But I got all the attention and he got lost in my shuffle..."

At last I could participate in the conversation. I knew what she needed to hear. So this is how that conversation ended.

"The Gullah have a saying," I said to Bryne. I could sense she wanted to be alone with the regret that kept Duncan close. It was time for me to kiss her cheeks and say goodnight. "It goes something like this. All shut-eye ain't sleep. and all goodbye ain't gone."

I came to know the magnitude and depth of this love that had once seemed almost unreal.  Writing this memoir was like having a conversation with Bryne ~ along with all her collected daughters.  I interviewed as many of them as I could for the book and the amazing thing was we all remembered the same core stories of affirmation and love. Then when I started pouring through Bryne's papers at the Beaufort County Library's Special Collection I found them again, in newspaper and magazine articles.  She had seduced almost every reporter she met, not just me!

It's funny, for years after her death I found myself wishing I could share experiences with Bryne. I missed her in so many ways.  But writing it all down, digging deeper into all the conversations we had on her screened porch stage, has helped close the grieving cycle. She's with me now, listening in on every conversation, comment, tweet and book signing.  And I'm certain she's loving every minute of it.

The Other Mother: A Rememoir by Teresa Bruce

Tell us about your most meaningful conversations...