...life...journey...: Past, Present, Future...

...life...journey...: Past, Present, Future...:     Past, Present, Future by Emily Brontë Tell me, tell me, smiling child, What the past is like to thee ? “An Autumn e...

Past, Present, Future...

 

 Past, Present, Future

by Emily Brontë

Tell me, tell me, smiling child,
What the past is like to thee ?
“An Autumn evening soft and mild
With a wind that sighs mournfully.”
 
Tell me, what is the present hour ?
“A green and flowery spray
Where a young bird sits gathering its power
To mount and fly away.”
 
And what is the future, happy one ?
“A sea beneath a cloudless sun ;
A mighty, glorious, dazzling sea
Stretching into infinity.”

Back in the Homestead... "My little stories" series.

Yes, for the past several years, when I am asked how am I, my response is "One foot in the North and the other in the South" not meaning sarcastically, but factually.

For several years before my husband's passing away, five years ago, we used to go very often to Bolivia, La Paz specifically.  Twelve years ago we started to buy small lots of land in the country side of Achocalla, Bolivia "in the middle of nowhere", at least that's the way we described it, since we did not know anything about the place or its inhabitants. 

The truth is that Achocalla was there already since the inception of the Murillo Province (La Paz) long before we were born and got to really know the place and especially the people, our neighbors.  With the latest plans of infrastructure that goes on, usually before elections of the local and State authorities, we now have a paved road that takes us, from our home to the International El Alto Airport in just under 20 minutes ride; another fifteen minutes in the other direction, we are in the residential Zona Sur of La Paz, and yet another direct road, put us in the middle of "old down town La Paz, the Capital city of Bolivia".  Allow me a parenthesis here, there seems to be a great number of people in the USA that remember, from their geography studies, that Bolivia has two Capitals.  When my answer is, yes, you are right, there is a smile of pleasure and pride in the face of my inquirer; now, that is always endearing to my heart.  They know something about my country!  when I probably do not know anything of theirs, I acknowledge silently.

For the avid knowledge-seeker, I found this "...La Paz became the seat of the executive and legislative branches of the Bolivian government and the judicial branch remained in Sucre. Today Sucre remains as the one and only capital of Bolivia, per the Bolivian constitution. However, La Paz is sometimes erroneously called the administrative (or de facto) capital..."  For more, visit http://www.boliviabella.com/capital.html.

Going back-and-forth to my other residence in Carcanavi, Achocalla, Bolivia is the reason from my actual standing and saying, "one foot on the North, the other on the South".  For short, I now say that I live in both places intermittently, living and working in both places, Maryland and Achocalla, both being my homesteads for the last five years.

That could explain to my thoughts about the lifestyles I have to manage where ever I am, not to mention the many times I wake up in the morning and wonder where in the world am I?  (I travel quite frequently to other far-away wonder places, usually for my interest and love for art/sculpture, but that story will come later.)

Just a few days from my return to Maryland, I have to get immediately to the tasks at hand, preparing my home and gardens to with stand the winter that follows the Autumn season in the North. 

See, in ten to twelve hours, I change my whole life while sleeping in the airplane.  This time, from rural, not urbanized yet, environment, I arrive to Montgomery County, Md which I believe is still one of the richest counties in the USA; that is quite a jolt but believe me, I love it, maybe as much as my Carroll County late husband loved my country Bolivia together with his Maryland, oh! Maryland.

Back in the homestead of MC I get back to a beautiful autumn weather; I left La Paz, awaiting for some rain so the flowers and greens can get awaken from their dry-cold sleep of the Bolivian winter.
Even though fall is just coming in this area of my home in Maryland, I cannot resist but stop my vehicle to sigh, enjoy what I see, and get my iPad and take some pictures to share with my beloved all around the world.  The colors of the trees that take away my breath are unbelievable, surprising me once more, even after forty+ years I live in this area.  Those yellows in all their tones, hard to find them in my palette of oils or watercolors, it would take long to recreate them especially when one is not working with them on a daily basis, and that is me.  While walking in the woods, I refuse to take another step without first sorting and picking up the red leaves that are in front of me, fallen, many of them, shyly hiding themselves behind other larger leaves, thinking they will pass inadvertently; with their fiery reds and rich oranges that compliment all the browns in nature?  Not with this buddy, they don't stand a chance to stay hiding.  I just love leaves, all sort of leaves, their shapes, how they curl when dry and at this time, how they crinkle under my steps.  I remember back in Cochabamba, Bolivia, as a small girl, in passing the Plaza Principal to get to my school (it must have been autumn time), I skipped from leaf to leaf, some times with a small step I could crunch one, while others, I would have to take a big stride not-to-miss the leaf that seemed to be waiting for me to land on, just to hear its crunching sound, sacrificing to become a flat shape, just to please me...  My young heart filled with happiness, joy, the bliss felt as if I owned the world, my own little world and that is a lot to feel at that young age.  Maybe that's why I love the falling leaves and their sound that is born under my steps, this time of the year.  As a young bride in the family farm, my husband buried me, first time ever, in those musty, dried-brown fall leaves, just as I saw our little Charles Jesse, "Charlie" smiling from a heap of leaves his parents built around him.  That, and a bag filled with gold coins = priceless!  More...soon...

DIA DE LOS DIFUNTOS/TODOS SANTOS TRADICION/CULTURA BOLIVIA*

 The Day of the Dead/All Souls Day - Traditions of Bolivia
Flowers, offerings, table of goods of the souls, prayers, "t'anta wawas" (bread bablies) for the visit of our departed, farewell in the cementaries of Bolivia.  Music by group "Los Jairas" 'Lamentations of My Mother' by Yayo Joffre, 1966.

* More...http://www.youtube.com

The day after...Halloween...

When I was the age of most of the "halloweeners" today, I did not know anything about this day...nite I'd say.

Then came my very First Halloween.

I was, at that time living with my in-laws in a 100-acrea farm near Manchester, Md (USA).  My great friend and mother-in-law, had to go to her regular church meetings so, I stayed at the farm with my father-in-law.  He was watching TV and I was just hanging around the hundred-year-old dear farm house, when we heard a car coming "down-the-lane"...before I could realize, my father in law said, there they are the "halloweeners"...oh...my..., I thought instantly...what do we do...(I heard about Halloween, when my husband told me about it, back a-hundred years ago, while still dating in La Paz, a loooong time ago...).  My father-in-law was very gracious and polite, Teresa, they are our neighbors next door...(mmm, about a mile ago, at least!...we were in the middle of Carroll County farming area!), and they are dressed up and coming to the door, my father introduced them to me.  I saw them, I don't remember saying hello or anything...just looked as "spooked" as the visitors staring at this Bolivian from The Andes mountains...  My mind was busy thinking, we have to give them something...but what...  I looked around and there were temptingdly looking at me, these shiny country apples that were sitting in their usual place during 'their' season...great!  my mind and eyes literally screamed...I was saved!  I went to the counter to get them, but then I thought, as good farmers and healthy eaters, this is not a Halloween treat...mmmm....I saw the toaster...well... "let them eat toast", I thought in the Victorian tone...I put two pieces of toast, a little bit of "real" butter and slapped some home-made jam on them.  Meanwhile, my father in law was chatting with his neighbor friend, keeping them...for my sake.  The toasts were done, I still thought, these are not enough...and I remembered!  The Mr Hull always had Halls Cough Drops in a small drawer near the door...I opened the drawer and I was not surprised, there were a couple of the packs that were not opened yet...!  Happily, I snitched two small packs and finally handed the two nice boys this bundle of "healthy goodies", I knew they would appreciate for they were "country boys" who are happy to receive anything as a gift...just like my husband... who appreciate every bit of good stuff, as long as they did not have to pay for them.

Happy Halloween boys of our Carroll County, Maryland (USA)!

...life...journey...: We all should have our twin...

...life...journey...: We all should have our twin...:                    As soon as we found out that we were going to have twins in addition to our three older children, we discovered many...

We all should have our twin...

         

 As soon as we found out that we were going to have twins in addition to our three older children, we discovered many life truths that keep coming up, even now that our twin daughters have their own children.

From the moment the doctor told us that we were expecting, not one, but two babies, the immediate reaction was, what are we going to do? I asked my husband, we have only one crib, the Wedge wood blue (which our three older children used), I could hear my voice, anxiously confused, worrying more about the furniture than the fact that there were two babies in my womb.

Deeply, I felt disoriented, there was something that bothered me about the twinship deal.  I did not confide this to my husband, he was too bubbly, happily-silly and I swear, he was not walking the road, he was walking on the clouds.

When I got home, my eleven year old neighbor friend, after hearing the news, asked me if I was happy.  She had to see something in my words and face to ask me such a question.   I don't know, I answered...  After a brief silence from both sides, I layed back on my bed, as if in a shrink office, and confided in this young girl that I felt it was going to be very difficult to raise these two human beings into independent, strong, loving-each-other persons.  This was probably some article I read in a doctor's office; and the challenge frightened me.

Once at home after the hospital stay, everything was double.  Yet I was very strict about giving each baby its time and place.  From then on I refused to call them "twins", for me, they were Claudin and Lucinda, two little girls who happened to be born the same day and hour, only eight minutes apart.

As they grew up, we saw these two very individual little girls, even though people would think they were identical, they were not, and precisely because they were not, they had identical haircuts, wanted to have the same dresses, if possible, in different colors, sometimes, at their choice, they would have identical tricycles or Communion dresses.

In their first birthday, we gave Claudin a puzzle and a box of tools; we noticed she loved to challenge hereself to put things together.  Lucinda liked to fancy herself with clothes-picks and anything colorful she could put around her neck and head.  We enjoyed how different they were.

In Kindergarten they decided they wanted to go in the morning session.  Then First or Second Grade, they decided to go to different classes.  And so went on; we let them choose that part of the school deal.

When it came the time to go to the University, I was afraid they would be separated after so many years they shared every moment of their lives.  My husband and I said nothing about it.  They did apply to very different schools and I am pretty sure they were accepted likewise.  Yet, when the decision came, they were going to the same University since their main interest was the athletics program they had.  Uffff!  What a relief that was, at least for me.  It was so easy, if I may say that, when they were together, we did not have to worry as much.

Yes, the athletic department is what they had in common and I will not go into that, since you can find out on your own, from much a reliable source, treat yourself to fun/interesting reading in:  http://currenttempo.blogspot.com.

It is very difficult to sum up the life of these two wonderful individuals.  There are tons of stories from us and them as they travel their lives together.  Now, two wonderful "mamitas" with three little toddlers, they still manage to be together, not only for their favorite activities - one of them Halloween, but to be able to continue running, the LOVE of their life.  I see them struggling to run together, fortunately they are married to two wonderful runners they met in NCState, they are the perfect companions for them, for they understand their needs, their love to each other, their love for running, responding to them with their unconditional love for them.

Today, I shared another wisdom of their twinship life road.  Claudin ran her first Marathon, a long 26.2 miles, thanks to her own goal and challenge.  Even though she always preferred the short runs, because her thing was speed, where Lucinda's was distance, each one seemed to continue with the first trait we could see from a very early age.  Today Claudin made Lucinda's day unforgettable and a very happy one, yet Claudin was the one that ran.  I still remember the time when Claudin was interviewed by a reporter for her first place in the Md State competition.  She was crying and very sad. When the reporter asked her, whay was she so unhappy, she replied that her sister should have got the title, not herself, since the event was her sister's and she could not run it due to an injury, the event was not her own.  "I just got a good run in a good day, but it's still not fair".

Lucinda told me today, how she jumped in Claudin's miles in the USMC marathon, since she just had a baby five months ago, yet she felt so happy to run right  beside Claudin.  Just when Claudin was done with their encouraging chatting, Lucinda told her how proud she was of her and that she had to leave her alone those last three miles, because "she had to get her victory, on her own..."

They both claim their love and success in running to their mentor and beloved "Papi", who shared with them not only the love for the hundreds of miles he run, regardless of anything, but for he saw in them a team that we all envy for they are who they are, because they have each other and that is powerful and a special blessing.   I guess, that's why he said to me, "...it would be nice if we all whould have our own twin..."

Marine Corps Marathon por Lucinda Smith (Trad al idioma Castellano por MTCHull)

Life's Current Tempo: Marine Corps Marathon: a poster of this picture hung framed in our basement for years. it was risky business, hanging such a big print on the wall of a room that...

MARINE CORPS MARATHON

(Translation into Spanish by MTCHull, 10/2013)

Un poster de esta fotografía colgó en la pared del sótano en nuestra casa por muchos años.  Era un asunto comprometedor, ahí el póster grande en la pared de nuestro cuarto de juegos infantiles, así es que tarde o temprano, ese cuadro apareció con una rajadura que parecía una tela de araña.  Por supuesto, todos nos negamos a saber cómo sucedió.  Yo, personalmente, bloqueé de mi memoria al mismo tiempo que destruía la evidencia.  Mis padres nunca le cambiaron el vidrio, probablemente por falta de tiempo.  (Mi esposo y yo, tenemos un SOLO niño y todavía están dos abrigos en mi auto esperando ser despachados a la lavandería!).  Mirando esta imagen, ahora, todavía veo ese telaraña en la esquina inferior de la foto -claro, ahora es casi lógico, ya que de esto, son veinte años después.

En 1986, yo tenia cinco años, cuando mi "Papi"corrió su primer maratón The US Marine Corps Marathon.  Nosotros lo esperábamos cerca a la Meta, entre cientos de familias que esperaban reunirse también con sus héroes "filipides".  Cuando se reunió con nosotros, me dio un fuerte abrazo que hizo crujir la "frazada" plyester de mylar que abrazaba sus hombros, mientras yo reconocía el dulce y familiar olor a amoniaco del sudor de sus esfuerzos.  En realidad, nunca lo vi correr; solo recuerdo la sal cristalizada en las ranuras de su cara y el recuento de su experiencia de cada milla que había recorrido.   A través de sus historias, corrí docenas de maratones en mi mente.  A este importante evento anual del Cuerpo de Infantería Norteamericano lo llaman el "Maratón de la Gente" yo la llamo, el "Maratón de mi Papi".  Oh, el corrió otros Maratones - calificando en las de Boston varias veces; sin embargo, ésta siempre fue Su maratón, se sentía como en "en su casa" (literalmente), ya que vivimos como a 20 millas hacia el norte del Rio Potomac, desde el punto de la meta final, el monumento a Iwo Jima, añadiendo que también era Marino de Infantería y a todo dar, intensamente leal y testarudamente resistente, así es que ahí lo tienen.

Mírenlo, no le pasan los años, así es como lo tengo en mi mente; un cuadro de salud, además de tener esa media sonrisa en su cara.  ¿podría yo reproducir esa imagen mientras corro? - desgraciadamente no.  Siempre me encuentro con mis hombros agachados con la fatiga, mi boca abierta y mi quijada hasta el suelo sin poder vencer a la gravedad.  Aún así, esta fue la fotografía de mi padre que me inspiró a correr un maratón, (eso y la obligación inferida de ser corredora, hija de un padre que corría maratones).  De cualquier manera, esta la fue la imagen que siempre corría s mi lado, mientras entrenaba para mi primer intento de larga distancia.  Mírenlo otra vez, como el "sueño Norteamericano" personificando su dicho de  "trabaja fuerte y puedes alcanzar cualquier meta que se te antoje."  Aun el fotógrafo compuso estratégicamente la toma con el Capitolio de escenario; hasta se puede casi escuchar a Bruce Springstein cantando, Born in the USA (Nacido en EEUU).

Cuando comencé a correr durante mis años secundarios, la gente me preguntaba cuándo correría yo un maratón.  Mi respuesta fue entonces, a los 25.  Parecía un buen numero y además, muchos años en el futuro, sea lo que fuere, estaba determinada a hacerlo.  Fue lo primero que puse en mi "bucketlist" o sea, lo haría antes de morir.  Mi sueño era correr mi primer maratón con mi melliza Claudín y mi padre, o sea, los tres corredores de la familia.  Si hubiera cumplido mi sueño, podría haber sido posible, pero lo postergue hasta mis 30 años y para entonces, esa ventana se cerró para todos nosotros.  Son cinco años desde que se fué y ahora tengo un bebé de cinco meses, cuyos ojos sólo pueden ser de su abuelo materno.  Ahora, es el momento de Claudín, mi melliza y mejor amiga de la vida; cuando ella sintió que el momento la llamaba a correr por primera vez sus 26.2 millas consecutivas, además de coincidir con el aniversario de nuestro padre, ella lo considero solo con una opción, y era la de correr el Maratón de los Marinos de Infantería el 27 de Octubre. 2013.  Hubiera sido tan lindo correr con ella, pero algunas cosas las tenemos que hacerlas solas.  De todas maneras, tengo la certeza que ella no estará sola en esta carrera; el viento la empujará por la espalda, siendo nuestro "Papi" que la empujará en toda la ruta.

...life...journey...: Any morning in the Andes of Bolivia.

Any morning in the Andes of Bolivia.

This is a photograph I keep on taking over and over again. 

 I am always amazed the changes that occur in every fraction 

of a second and just a glance away from our eyes.

It is my reminder that with every change

there is a new beginning.

MTCH/2013

“The only journey is the one within.” ― Rainer Maria Rilke