Category Archives: Memories

family, Love, Memories, Storytelling, Wisdom

Pearls on the Brain

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This post is inspired by two things.

Well, two women I loved and the “Pearls of Wisdom” theme the non-profit I work at has going on to celebrate our 30th year of serving the senior citizens and adults living with disabilities in our county. Because the traditional gift for 30 year anniversaries is pearls.

The two women I am referring to are my grandmothers, who both passed away years ago, when I was a young adult.

Both of my grandmothers were named Pearl.

Recently, I found what is surely the only photo in my family’s history of the three of us together. I, aged 8 or 9, in my red, snazzy, and bedazzled dance costume flanked on either side by a Pearl.

I’m so bummed that I cannot find that photo for the life of me.

But I did find these two:

Me, in my baby goblin era, with my dad’s Mom, Pearl.
What I’m certain is the last photo with me and the other Pearl (my mom’s Mom) when I was 19.

The two Pearls were very different from each other. Like, very.

One tended to stay awake late into the night playing solitaire.

The other read tarot cards in her younger days, which my Grandpa was vehemently opposed to. Something about it being “devil’s work”.

One was a great cook. The two things I clearly remember her making on the regular was chili with big chunks of celery, stewed tomatoes, and spaghetti. It was more like soup, but my mouth waters whenever I recall how delicious it was. The other was white cake with chocolate frosting. I remember there always seemed to be one of those cakes sitting on top of her washing machine (why there is beyond me).

The other Pearl comes to mind when I smell Noxema. The woman used it religiously. Speaking of religion, she was a believer of the evangelical pentacostal variety. She donated gobs of money over the years to the Billy Graham/700 Club nonsense. She was a teetotaler.

My other Grandma Pearl loved to laugh and socialize, (though I don’t think she was laughing when our family accidentally left her at Disneyland during our one-and-only big cross-country multi-family vacation in about 1974. A stellar moment in our family).

The other Pearl was a bit misunderstood and under-appreciated. I, along with several of my family members, believe she was living with an undiagnosed case of manic-depressive or bipolar mental illness. She could be super silly but also super not. We never knew what version of her to expect when we came to visit. One famous story from my mom’s youngest sister was when her friend Ruthie came to hang out after school, Grandma Pearl, for whatever reason, wanted her gone. She told Ruthie, “why don’t you go home and get acquainted with your own mother?” My aunt was mortified!

I’d really like to learn more about my two Pearls. Perhaps I will bite the bullet and sign up for one of those ancestry dna sites, so I can learn more about their lives before they became my Grandmas. Maybe that’d give me more of a notion of what their “pearls of wisdom” would be if they were still here with the rest of us.

Please don’t hold back with sharing your “pearls of wisdom” with me in the comments. The more original, the better!

I hope you enjoy today’s sweet song.

Climate Change, Community, Compassion, Memories, Travel

I’m So Sorry, California

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We paused the news coverage of the horrific urban wildfires in California the other night while I got our supper started. Mr. NOA asked Google to stream songs from Laurel Canyon on our little nest, which sits on our kitchen countertop. It was our little ode to California.

We talked about how much we enjoyed a documentary from a few years back about the beginnings of the Laurel Canyon music scene (Echo in the Canyon). It featured clips from and stories about the Eagles, Tom Petty, Linda Ronstadt, Jackson Browne, and more. We also talked about how much we enjoyed a vacation there, during which we were treated to an impromptu concert at an open-air shopping mall in Long Beach. The band was called “Steely Jam”. They of course were a band who did covers of Steely Dan songs.

I remember vacations I took with my parents in the 1980’s to California. My brother lived there with his then-wife and three kids. We loved being there: the palm trees, the ocean, the general atmosphere of laid back-ness. It was so much different than life in northern Minnesota. My parents and I were first introduced to Taco Bell during one of our visits there. We had Taco John’s at home, but Taco Bell, we determined, was superior.

My hope is that Mr. NOA and I will be able to visit this state together again, visiting San Francisco and Napa Valley in particular.

My heart goes out to this beautiful state and its people. What a nightmare they are living. I’ve seen some folks online making snarky comments about celebrities that have lost their homes, saying things along the lines of “too bad, so sad, they can just go stay in one of their other mansions”. It may in some cases be true that a celebrity can stay in another one of their homes in another state or country, but that doesn’t mean it’s not a big honking deal for them to have lost a home they created cherished memories in. And I believe that the majority of those folks who have lost their homes and all their worldly possessions in these wildfires are not wealthy celebrities. They are likely just like the rest of us Americans, working hard to maintain a secure and happy life for themselves and their families.

For now, all I can offer is my thoughts and prayers for the multitudes of people this has affected in California, along with the brave firefighters working tirelessly to extinguish the flames. I intend to pay close attention to California as time goes on to determine how I can be of help, financially or otherwise, to the people in this beautiful state as they navigate through this mess.

Americana Music, Love, Memories, Self Compassion

Be Gentle

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The other night, I watched the best thing I’ve seen in a good long while. It was a Brandi Carlile concert on the streaming platform, HBO Max. I liked it so much that I watched it twice.

This concert was nothing short of magical.

The setting was in California’s Laurel Canyon (hence the title “In The Canyon Haze”). This was a loving nod to all the fabulous music that came out of there in the late ’60s and ’70s. I loved the “Hotel California” style vibes. Brandi and her multi-talented band performed songs from her latest album, “In These Silent Days” as the sun slowly set. She answered questions from audience members who were watching on IMAX screens live across the country. She performed a couple of covers of other artists’ songs (which I will provide no spoilers for but assure you will enjoy). It was so well produced. As it went on, it just kept getting better and better. I guarantee it’s going to win all the awards it’s nominated for.

In other words, I highly recommend that you watch this.

Brandi’s song, “Stay Gentle”, was one I hadn’t heard before. It reminded me of a special piece of artwork that I acquired from my dad, which I wrote a blog post about in 2018. What follows is a re-imagining of that blog post, because, with this song, Brandi reminded me of the power of this message.

I don’t know the origin story of this sign.

I can only imagine that someone made it back in the early 70s and gave it to my parents. I just remember it hanging on the fiberboard walls of my dad’s beloved garage while I was growing up. I can only assume that my mom couldn’t find quite the right place to display it in our house. Or she found it tacky.

But my dad had an appreciation for this sign. It meant something to him. It was hung on those fiberboard walls next to scribblings from family and friends from near and far who were visiting our house for one celebration or another. Dad got a big kick out of having guests sign the wall in the garage to commemorate various celebrations. To some, he was gruff, but those who loved him best knew he was quite the sentimental guy.

It’s bittersweet for me to re-share this now, with the knowledge that someone new is living in this house. Dad passed away in 2018, and Mom in 2019. The house was sold earlier this year.

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As a silly 13-year-old, I christened myself the cutest “chic that ever came here”. 

I think first and foremost, these words, “Life is fragile, be gentle”, are the crux of self-compassion. It’s so easy to go through our days mentally haranguing ourselves about how we could have done “this”  better, or how we shouldn’t have said “that” to whomever, and all that unhelpful baloney. I strive to put my self-defeating thoughts on pause and ask myself if the negative thoughts about myself would be something I would say out loud (or even under my breath) to a close friend. The answer is always, emphatically, “no”. This simple phrase, “Life is fragile, be gentle”, puts me in that head and heart space where I can do that.

I believe if we have any hope of ushering in a kinder, less dysfunctional, society, we should endeavor to heed these words in our day-to-day interactions with ourselves and others, whether they be strangers or friends.