TAKE A SEAT

Dusting off my pants legs as I rise to meet my lunch date who I see smiling as she approaches me. She is in from out of town and insisted that although our time was brief, we agreed the opportunity was still there to be worthy of remembering as if we had an abundance of time. The place I chose for us to meet is an olden day store that has been turned into a Restaurant. Something about this place fascinates and bewitches my being as it delights my very Soul. It always has as if laced within a mesmerizing whisper as the walls tell me secrets of what I cannot see. I nod as in acceptance as my mind takes flight, entranced with delight. I have chosen this spot for momentous times as my Birthday, and my last meal before my second child was born. It is as if I am transcended into times of old and this quaint little storefront that is around a hundred years old has come to life. I am distracted by the mumblings of the voices that I hear   resounding of their stories as if I too were standing in the Moore Brothers General Store. Alas as if Jesse King himself were writting up my tab as we talked. Happy talk like being there for my Birthday and the somber, heavier moments laden down as mentioned my last meal before delivering my second child, who I knew was terminal; uncertain of what was to come. I wonder if Jesse as reported never missed a day of work in his sixty years was because his very heart and soul was what showed up for work. I was telling my out of town friend the legend is that this place is haunted. Although they report there are no bump in the nights and stories to tell I believe that Jesse brought that place to life. The aged old saying as if these walls could talk is poetry in the present. My imagination floods with wonder of now of  how people are still drawn to this enchanted delicacy. They are continuing to breathe life and add more chapters to this undeniable story of life. I find it rather ironic that another word for memorable is haunting. This is Monday motivation graciously taking me by the hand and ushering me in to breathe in from the marrow of my bones. 

As we ate from one anothers plates, giggling as we embraced this moment in time.  We knew that we were being gifted with more than something from the Chef. We were no longer occupying space, we were hyptmotized and delirious with the mere Wonderment of Life. On my way home I took my time to enjoy the beauty that was bestowed before me. I stopped and found a bench beneath the trees so beautiful as if the most skilled artist had painted beauty too rich for words to describe. The moss that was draped were as if a skilled designer had thoughtfully placed it. As if a veil had suddenly been lifted and the drapes were drawn for me, I understood the beauty of the benches such as that of Notting Hill. My mind escorted my senses to the bookstore in London we visited a couple of years ago where they made the movie. The beloved line where Julia Roberts read the bench to Hugh Grant, "For June  who loved this Garden from Joseph who always sat beside her." As if a chemist in a lab upon discovering a marvel my heart prodded where would my very own bench reside and what would my bench proclaim? Last week I was watching my Daughter's golf match. One of the holes had the most picturesque swing hanging from a tree with a view mere words cannot describe. I hopped out of the golf cart liken to a little girl excited and drawn to a swingset on a playground. I basked in the beauty before me that surrounded all around me marveling at how fortunate these people are to have this yard and this view. I allowed the swing to tell the stories as I sat and let my mind run free. 

I wrote months back about the water oak that had fallen in my front yard. I had lost another one shortly before in my back yard and only thought of clean up. This time I was wiser and amidst the pieces that had crumbled beneath that mighty oaks fall,I was inspired noting how lofty this tree was and how much it had lived.  I wrote of cutting chargers to display upon my tables. I also kept the stump which simply sits upon my front porch for now, and I had them cut me logs in sections storing them in the garage. Often times I must attest I shake my head at myself for saving them. They simply remind me of my loss. Somewhere in the depths the voice was very clear to wait. No need to rush about in haste. My Heart was quite clear in giving instruction to simply sit and draw from this. Thus choosing to wait until I was inspired and passionate. And so I did for quite some time. Questions bombarded me as to why I had them cut these logs and would I ever really enjoy them enough to save them.  Fast forward to the other day at my Neighborhood Garden Club I was in charge of table decorations. As if a messenger delivered it to me, I googled Garden Club Table Decorations, alas what do you think I saw?! My dusty cobwebbed beloved logs that layed there against my garage wall were going to be transformed into the most beautiful of vases. I am disappointed to state that I could not figure out the drill to have them ready for that day. Instead I improvised at the last minute with what I had on hand. The Ladies were delighted and raved about the creativity. I quickly showed them pictures and told them all about my tree. I am waiting now on the driller to teach me how to craft those beloved logs. It is important to me as if mandated that I do them as much as I can for I am imparting my very own existance into them. So as when my Daughter sets her own table many years from now; that mighty oak will still stand tall captivating those who sit around as if delighting in it's shade. The yard that this Mighty Oak lived was chosen because the same type of feeling resounded within the helm of this House as I feel at my favorite restaurant. It is imagery in motion. All this time and this tree is still giving to me in new ways. This Mighty Oak is a poetic remembrance of her childhood Home wherever life might find her. 

This was my table at Easter and I cannot wait to see those logs in all their mighty splendor filled with glorious flowers to adorn my table. Many years from now this chapter of my story may be enjoyed as in the olden days before the televisions. Where families would gather together as someone would read as laterns provided light. I imagine I would love for it to go something as this.... may I be so fortunate.  Camille thoughtfully sat at her table allowing it to speak inspiration to her senses to carry out the tone that her guests would undoubtably feel. As she took her rightful seat as the Hostess of her Easter Brunch she shared the story of her Mom. Although she lived for how ever many years she never failed to show up for duty. She poured herself into her family and guests. Camille shared her beloved tree that serenades it's listeners with all that it has seen. The crystal goblets were chosen because they have mine and my sister's names for their patterns. The silverwear we eat with were gifted to me year after year consecutively on Christmas Eve until I had a complete set. My Mom would use  them throughout my life to make the memories that make them shine with bountiful brilliance. They were chosen for me namely after flowers for floral patterns. One of my favorites is named Poppy which is what I referred to my Father. Another is Lily which my Mother often times called me and my maiden name is inscribed upon the other that was hers and passed on down to me. Her passion is undeniable as she invokes a force as if the ground quaked beneath her feet.No longer were we talking table talk, it was far greater. Her story would continue laced with her own essence intertwined with mine while being weaved into her children. 

What will your story be? We all have the opportunity as Jesse to have one or June that must have marveled with such intensity that Joseph was captivated to sit beside her. Be captivating.  Be passionate. Main ingredient; make sure you live with intention and as you move, it is with such a fluid motion that dictates a story to be embraced worthy of your life. This is The Wonderment of Life. 

                            xoxo

One of my High School Leaders in my girls group was at a concert I attended this past weekend. She posted on Instagram the following, "@moon_taxi, your music makes my soul more alive. Never change. Here's to a band full of talent and love." Well said Caroline, well said. I wholeheartedly agree. I leave with you one of their songs and this version is acoustic. May you savor in your moments that ignite your being to Dance in the River Water....