WordSisters

Tag: wordsisters

  • Slots and Ballads

    Slots and Ballads

    IMG_5975I step to the edge with Jody. Together, we look out over the buffet of lights, the fog of cigarette smoke and become accustomed to the cacophony of bells. Are we ready to be swallowed up by the all of this? To say that we don’t have a clue about what is going on in this village is an understatement. I take her by the elbow, step forward, and commit.

    Mystic Lake Casino has a 125,000 square-foot gambling floor with 4,000 slot machines and 100 blackjack tables.

    We land at the Montezuma slot machine based on the ancient Aztec emperor that is sure to bring us luck. The graphics are several symbols including, Montezuma, a dragon, hawk, headdress, and a princess. The Mayan princess and pyramid draws me. Surely, that’s Crystel in the headdress and Antonio on the steps of Tikel.

    IMG_5967Within ten minutes we have lost all of the promotional money given to us by the hotel.

    Sarah McLachlan’s, Shine on Tour, is what drew us to Mystic Lakes.

    Her ballads include “I Will Remember You,” “Sweet Surrender,” “Adia,” and Angel.”

    She sings them all. Some of them I recognize. Mostly, I am taken in by the ambiance. Our seats are next to the sound stage. I enjoy the all of it: the audience, the music, and being seated close enough to be able to see the facial expressions of the performers.

    IMG_5958A couch is on stage but even before McLachlan has audience members join her, I feel at home and as if I know her and want to know her even better. At one point during her show I get up to use the restroom but return when I realize it is a song I recognize. All the other women my age must have done the same thing.Her next song is new and a bathroom line quickly forms.

    The ballad that makes me cry is one of her last songs: “Beautiful Girl.” It is a song about her almost 13-year old girl. I immediately think of Crystel.

     

    We’re gonna push on through, pretty girl
    Just like we always do, beautiful girl
    I know the world can be cruel, pretty girl
    You’re gonna make it ’cause you’ve got love on your side
    The truth of letting go
    Lies in the answer
    That when the storm subsides
    I’ll still be there to hold you

    Our selfie at the show
    Our selfie at the show

    The next morning before we leave we have $25 in promotional cash to spend. Jody and I watch the reel roll two times. 7’s and Jokers go around and around. Then stop.

    We stare dumbly at the $84 dollar sign that is on the screen.

    There is only one thing to do. Cash out.

    The $84 dollars is used to pay the babysitter.

    Though this village is perplexing we will return again. It was a great date night.

  • Signposts

    Signposts

    Hemlock Trail
    Hemlock Trail

    I pointed my cross country skis toward the 3.2 km green striding trail. What’s that …. about 1 ½ miles? I could do that.

    If only I wouldn’t have missed my turn. At each intersection you need to stop, look and think. I did but I still went straight on Memory Lane instead of turning left to stay on Hemlock Trail.

    Hemlock Trail was certainly beautiful with the pines, their branches cradling snow.

    Memory Lane was a straight path to the evening before.

    Last night it was dark outside Indian Mountainhead Resort main lodge. A sharp cold. Not cold enough that I couldn’t stop, gaze at the brilliant stars and marvel at the wonder. I filled with gratitude for this great universe of ours and my life.

    I have a good life.

    February 23, 2015 168I had just left my 12-year old son in the swimming pool without even saying goodbye. He was with other Boy Scouts. Generally, Antonio and I bob heads, nod in acknowledgement to each other, or say a few words before I leave him. This time I didn’t. Not because I couldn’t see him in the fog that rose above the swimming pool, but because it wasn’t needed.

    This was a first.

    There was no signpost saying RITE OF PASSAGE. No moment of THIS IS IT.

    It just happened.

    Memory Lane
    Memory Lane

    The entire weekend was like that. He was independent of his two moms and sister.

    He chose to be with the group of boys even though we were an arm’s length away.

    When I told a parent about this later, she mentioned that it was a bittersweet moment.

    It didn’t feel bitter. There was no sadness. I used to be afraid Antonio would never leave my lap and that kids would make fun of him. Instead of pushing him off because that certainly didn’t feel right, I learned to enjoy his closeness.

    When I reached the River House, I knew I was on the wrong trail. I turned around and went back to the intersection and took a right onto Hemlock.

    February 23, 2015 200Jody was already waiting for me in the warming cabin. She had gone further and faster than me. That’s not unusual.

    The next day, I planned to ski Hemlock Trail again. And this time, I would know the signposts.

  • “You can choose to shave. But you have to brush your teeth.”

    IMG_3147The day came, two weeks ago, when I had his and her electric and regular razors, cream hair remover, his and her shaving cream – foamy and creamy, post shave balm, and aftershave on the bathroom counter.

    His on one side. Hers on the other.

    I let the essentials rest there for a few days, wanting to normalize the fact that, yes, 12-year-olds do grow hair and yes, some 12-year-olds would like it to disappear.

    I had brought up shaving to Antonio a couple of years ago. I am very cognizant that Antonio is the only male in our house so he often is inundated with information before its time. With Crystel, I wait for a cue.

    Our neighbor, Lynda, works at Bella Salon and Spa. It was natural to call and make an appointment for a lip and brow wax for Crystel, brow wax for me, and a lip wax for Jody.

    I mean, if it’s a cue, it’s a cue, right?

    With Antonio away on a school trip, we made it a girls’ night out.

    Antonio had already let me know about how he felt about his mustache. His Uncle Marty was over for a visit, and even though I reminded Antonio a number of times, of what a great opportunity this was (Crystel was away on a school trip), what great timing, how serendipitous, he just couldn’t get a scissors and open the packaging that held his electric shaver and all those cool attachments.

    He just dropped his voice as low as he could. “Nope.”

    We three girls tried our electric shaver first. Crystel found out very quickly that she didn’t enjoy having her hair pulled and cut by a million tweezers. Soon we were on to the razors, each of us with a leg in the bathtub.

    Hmmm. Now, there. There is possibility.

    Her choice.

    But the brushing of teeth? Nope. That’s not a choice. (Said in a Mom’s voice).