Category Archives: Contemplation

Writing from the heart!

Triggering a Memory, from Smell or Sound-Part One…..

     We had just turned the corner into our subdivision when Howard tuned to me and said, “I smell smoke.”

     Last Saturday we were on our early morning walk with our “girls”. It was a beautiful morning and I was walking along enjoying our stroll happy to have my “pack” with me. I had also smelled the smoke and my mind drifted to a pleasant memory that took place many years ago.

     I was interrupted from my reminiscing, when Howard stated “I wonder where it is coming from?” I then heard a hint of concern in his voice, which I did not feel myself, because I was in the past, reliving.  I believe his concern, over smelling the smoke, was triggered from last summers horrible forest fires in our area.

     Smelling certain odors and hearing certain sounds are powerful triggers to the brain, calling up memories mostly from childhood, but not always. The brain is a complex organ and more often then not, truly mysterious to me, in how it functions.

     I don’t understand how these triggers work, something to do with the olfactory bulb being closely associated with memory and feeling. What I do know is when triggers happen and the memories are good ones, I am thankful for them.

     After my experience last Saturday of having a memory triggered by an odor, I thought it would be interesting to write a few personal stories. I decided to write about this subject in multiple posts/memories, because of the length. This is Part One, so look for others.

     ~ Part One ~

     The pleasing odor of wood burning in a fireplace…..

     Always brings me back to the late seventies and our first ski trip to Aspen, Colorado. There were six of us and this particular trip was the first of many.  We all lived in the suburbs of New Orleans and thank goodness we discovered how much fun a skiing vacation could be.

Aspen Ski Trip (a long time ago)
Aspen Ski Trip (a long time ago)

I found this old photo and scanned it. From left to right: Howard, Gay C., Gay M., Sheila, Harold and Don was behind the camera as usual.

     After an enjoyable day of skiing, we would walk through the beautiful downtown area of Aspen, bundled up in heavy coats, hats, gloves and scarves on our way in search of a delicious meal and to relive our day on the mountain.

     The cold, mountain, air and the flame inducing peacefulness of a fire are invitations for people to light their fireplaces, thus the strong smell of burning wood in the air. It was an exciting time spent with friends and I found the smell of smoke in the air a pleasant one.

     Odors and sounds triggering fond memories, mysterious why it happens, but always a welcome experience.

     What fond memories are triggered when you smell a certain odor or hear a certain sound?

My Corner of the World…..

     

~ Loveland Sunrise  ~ Viewed from My Corner of the World
~ Loveland Sunrise ~
Viewed from My Corner of the World

     My hands are warmed by a streaming cup of coffee, my husband brewed for me, as I sit in my corner of the world.

     My body is warmed by the first, brilliant rays of the sun as I snuggle down and relax in my favorite deck chair. 

     My mind fills with beautiful thoughts, the sun rises higher in the sky and I enjoy my first cup of coffee. 

     I gaze toward the eastern horizon, across the tree tops, into the heart of the city where life is waiting to be experienced. This glorious day begins and offers its challenges and endless opportunities.

     I choose to spend my time and this day with all my being.

     It is later in the day now, as I sit here in my corner of the world. In my hands I hold a long-stemmed, crystal glass filled with a burgundy colored liquid that my husband poured for me. The conversation is good.

     The brilliance of the sun has dimmed and the sky is filled with rich warming colors as its’ last rays disappear over the mountains.

      I am happy and filled with love for this person who has placed these symbols of comfort, in my hands.

     This day, as everyday, began with promise and a blank slate for me and only me to fill. My mind is at peace and has been enriched for I have achieved my goal.

     As I sit here in my corner of the world.

©2011 by Sheila de Laneuville

Sunset from a Different Perspective
Sunset – a Different Perspective

A New, Shiny, Green Wheel Barrel…..

A Shiny, Green Wheel Barrel

Our last wheel barrel was well used and over twenty years old.

It was big and bright red. When Howard took it to the dump a couple of weeks ago it was time. Wooden handles were split, the flat tire cracked and frankly just looking sad, its bottom rusted with age. It had been turned upside down and placed in a spot hidden out of sight under a pine tree in the backyard. Forgotten.

One day last week Howard called me saying he was stopping at a hardware store, on his way home, to buy a new wheel barrel. That evening over dinner Howard told me “This will probably be my last wheel barrel. I am no longer a wheel barrel man.”

You see this post isn’t about the new, green wheel barrel.

The wheel barrel is symbolic of something I have been thinking about for a while now. Something deeper. I have been thinking lately about the passage of life, the time we have left, our lives together and how to put into words my feelings.

So when Howard was speaking about the wheel barrel, I realized I could use it as a symbol. I don’t know exactly what he meant, but I can guess his meaning and that being, I am getting to a stage in my life where I can’t use a wheel barrel like I once did when I was much younger and stronger. 

Don’t we all feel it some days and sense the urgency?

I have recently started thinking of my life in “thirds” of years, why I really don’t know.

Maybe it is just easy. This August we will be married thirty-eight years; happy and productive years. We were 29 and 22 on our wedding day in 1975. This year we will celebrate our 67th and 60th birthdays. Yet, no real reason for my sense of urgency.

We were both raised in Louisiana and spent, our first third, give or take a few years, there. Growing up, family, friends, school, working, marriage, building a home. All the normal life experiences. All wonderful!

In January of 1986, we moved from Louisiana to Colorado, because we wanted to, there wasn’t any other reason. A life in the West enjoying the outdoors. Joy! A Dream! I was 33 at the time of this move and entering the second “third” of my life.

It was a life changing and difficult decision, leaving our family and friends and a way of life we were comfortable with. The move was adventurous and exciting and probably a shock to most. Not like us they said. Maybe to some, but to us it was the right decision. During our time here in Colorado, came more school, building of careers, enjoyable time spent in nature, a few vacations mostly back south to visit family and friends. We developed treasured friendships. A lovely life!

In 2006 came another life changing event – retirement.

Retirement brought freedom, travel, more enjoyment of hobbies new and old, RV’ing, new friends and more time to spend with old, dear friends and it also brought a relaxed, peaceful state of mind. Except for my in the back of mind thought of getting older and an urgency. An urgency to do what?

So, now twenty-seven years later, I am quickly entering the final “third” of life. No guarantees here right. Who is lucky enough to live an enjoyable life into their nineties.

So this post now gets to the heart of what it is about. The burning knowledge and needed acceptance we are entering our final years, in my strange way of looking at the years. I have no doubt Howard and I will be together. We truly love and respect each other. How much time do we have left together? How much longer will we both have our good health? How long can we continue to travel in our motorhome? Where will we spend our days? What will we be doing.

There is a chance that someday we might move from our lovely try-level home on the hill. Won’t be able to or won’t want to, go up and down in the house and up and down in the multilevel yard. Won’t be able to push that wheel barrel up the hill when needed.

Do we leave our beloved west and go back south (our roots), do we head southwest, do we move to a single level home here in our hometown. Many important questions and currently no answers.

The answers to all these questions will one day resolve themselves. I guess getting to these answers is the ultimate joy of life. They don’t need to be make in a hurriedly fashion. Why the urgency, I now ask myself. They need to be made, after plenty discussion and with both our desires in mind.

The ultimate joy of life….

Living it, experiencing it, embracing and enjoying the unexpected, the anticipation of what’s to come. The next phase of our life together will be just as much an adventure as when we began all our other adventures. We will enter it just as much in love with each other and more then when we started of life together.

What matters is being together, enjoying life, being happy where we are, having things to be passionate about, living life to its fullest everyday. We can plan our future as any wise person would do, but hey we don’t need to dwell on it. There’s no hurry!

This is my lesson learned, my enlightened understanding, my resolve and my peace, knowing it will all work out just fine. No urgency. Thank you wheel barrel for your symbolism. It is okay if I am the only one that understands this.

I will, he will, we will – enjoy life, enjoy each other and live everyday to the fullest.

Let me close with a note about Howard and his new, shiny, green wheel barrel. Yesterday he spent the day working on his project. At the end of the day he was tired, had an expression of accomplishment on his face and he was happy. Many more hours until his project is finished and many more days for me to see his joy living life.

It is early morning…..

My beautiful Ponderosa Pine
My beautiful Ponderosa Pine

It is early morning. I am sitting on my deck, looking east out over the town of Loveland where I live.

Not a cloud in the sky, which is a lovely, calming shade of blue. You know this shade of blue, hard to describe, simply like no other. 

Peaceful is what I feel, as I sit here enjoying my first cup of coffee.

There is a cool breeze. Yes, cool. I can’t believe it myself since yesterdays temperatures reached the high nineties. Where did it come from, I need not ask, I am just delighted it came to pay a visit.

Once in a small shady spot, how my space is mixed with beams of sunlight as the sun rises higher in the sky. It is now topping the highest branch on my beautiful Ponderosa Pine. As the breeze continues to blow, lovingly caressing her branches, I see shadows dancing across my lap.

I hear the faint, mournful calls of the Ringed Turtle- Doves as they fly in and around my yard, whispering to each other and perhaps to me. Their call reassuring my peaceful feeling. 

I know the day will get warmer, maybe even hot, but right now, in this moment, I treasure these peaceful moments of my morning. 

The girls are laying at my feet. It seems they also are enjoying this cool, calming morning. I think I see doggie smiles on their faces. Are they experiencing my pleasure? More likely their own happy doggie thoughts.

Is it now time for a walk…..

Staring out to sea
..

Everyday he sits on a bench staring out to sea; how long he has been doing this I’m not sure. His skin is deeply tanned so I am thinking he has sat many hours on this bench.

He is Italian. You know this upon first meeting him; he proudly wears a hat with Italy written across the front. I don’t recall ever seeing him without this hat. This winter he tells me “I am doing okay for an eighty-five year old.” So now I know his age.

Over the years, I have learned he was born and raised somewhere in the mountains of Italy, exactly where I am not sure. Be assured that wherever it was he truly and deeply loved it there.

His father and mother moved to New York City from Italy when he was 27 years old. I am not sure if he really wanted to leave Italy, but I do know that he had a wonderful life in New York City. From the way he talks about America, he loves this country as well as Italy.

His family members were cheese makers. From all accounts, as the stories are told, the very best cheese makers! I believe him.

His father felt that at the age of 27 he was not ready to venture out on his own. He had to learn the family business first and that he did by working for free until his father said he was good enough to be paid. Oh my can you imagine a father telling his son this today.

His father also felt that at 27 he was still too young to marry, so he waited. I think he had already picked a wife, an Italian, and when given the okay from his family, they were married and eventually had two children. I don’t know at what age he got married. As I write this story I realize there are so many questions I need to ask him.

They all lived in the same home, with one kitchen; he likes to laugh about that now – his parents, him and his family. Many squabbles took place mostly about what and how to prepare the evening meals. Two strong-headed Italian women wanting to cook “their” way – Geez! As he tells this story it is shared with love and not regret, I can tell by the way he laughs as he speaks.

His cheese making abilities led to another successful business, a deli and grocery, which was located on a corner next door to their home. “I did not have to drive to work” he tells me. “We made and sold the very best cheeses” he states proudly. I think they must have owned this deli and grocery for a very long time.

Exactly when he and his wife moved to south Florida from New York City, I don’t know. I do know that his wife loved both the warmth and the sea, because he tells us about her – a little. She passed away not that long ago and I get the impression it is still painful for him to talk about her.  I do know that he loved her more than life. At times he seems sad and he has stated that he misses her very much. When he stares out to sea, as he sits on his bench, he is thinking of her – I just know this to be true.

My husband and I met him about three years ago, because we drive to the beach to walk our dogs and after our walk, we spent a little time cooling off while sitting on a bench staring out to sea. You see it is a very relaxing and comforting habit. It is also a wonderful way for a stranger to become a friend. From year to year he remembers our name, which amazes me. Of course what I love more is that he calls me “sweetheart” in his still heavy Italian accent.

I truly adore him! His name is Joe and we have become friends. He always has a smile to share, a story to tell and what I think I enjoy most – a lesson to be learned, if you truly listen, on how to prepare an Italian meal!  He still cooks his own meals all from scratch and of course all prepared with the very best Italian ingredients and with the very best cheese! You won’t catch Joe eating in any Italian restaurant!

As he stares out to sea, probably remembering those he lost, may he please be at peace knowing he will see them again someday. Not too soon I hope, because I want to see him sitting on his bench, starting out to sea and enjoying the warmth of the sun, upon my return.

Until next time Joe – be well my friend and think of more stories to share