Tag: love

Mother’s Day 2025

This photo from almost eight years ago is three generations of mothers in my family, Nana and me with daughter E holding baby ABC, my first grandchild and Nana’s first great-gandchild.

This Mother’s Day is without Nana, who passed away in May 2019, and with E and ABC living in London, where Mother’s Day was celebrated a couple of months ago.

Here, B baked squash maple muffins for breakfast and is planning a special dinner, chicken and artichokes over artichoke ravioli with a yet-to-be-revealed-to me dessert. Daughter T is here with us, which is a blessing.

Still, if feels strange to not be with any of the other mothers in my family, except in spirit.

I am wearing a shirt that was my mother’s, a gift from our friend Angie, who passed away twenty years ago.

Mother’s Day began as a call for peace. (That post contains Julia Ward Howe’s original proclamation, still well worth reading in our current war-torn world.) Today, I wish peace to all, especially to all who have mothered others, whether still living or deceased.

Love and compassion bring peace.

One-Liner Wednesday: a final message from Pope Francis

On this day, I would like all of us to hope anew and to revive our trust in others, including those who are different than ourselves, or who come from distant lands, bringing unfamiliar customs, ways of life and ideas!

From Pope Francis’s Easter message, April 20, 2025, which was proclaimed on his final full day of life

Join us for Linda’s One-Liner Wednesdays! Find out more here: https://lindaghill.com/2025/04/23/one-liner-wednesday-sorry-4/

SoCS: Well-wishes

With so many celebrations going on in this season, with Solstice, Chanukah, Christmas, Kwanzaa, New Year’s, and I’m sure even more holidays and observances, there are many well-wishes being exchanged.

We need them.

All of them.

This year, with so much going on around the world, so much death and destruction, so many willing to scapegoat or disparage anyone who isn’t like them, we need to concentrate on wishing each other well.

Not just words splashed onto a greeting card.

Actually, wishing each other well and meaning it.

Then, we need to act like it.

Choose Love.

Choose Peace.

Choose sharing.

Choose service.

I wish all of you well as we finish 2024 and move into 2025.
*****
Linda’s prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday this week is “wish.” Join us! Find out more here: https://lindaghill.com/2024/12/20/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-dec-21-2024/

One-Liner Wednesday: “First Grandchild” on Silver Birch Press

Sharing that my poem about my mom, “First Grandchild,” is now part of the ALL ABOUT MY MOTHER series on Silver Birch Press; my blog post about it is here.

Join us for Linda’s One-Liner Wednesdays! Find out more here: https://lindaghill.com/2024/05/22/one-liner-wednesday-let-the-confusion-commence/ (Check the link to learn about “up commas”!)

“First Grandchild” on Silver Birch Press

I am honored that my poem “First Grandchild” from my chapbook Hearts (Kelsay Books, 2023) is featured today by Silver Birch Press as part of their ALL ABOUT MY MOTHER series. Many thanks to Melanie and the Silver Birch Press team for including me in this series!

The first grandchild in the title is my daughter E, shown in the photo above holding baby ABC with my mother, known here at Top of JC’s Mind as Nana, and me.

You can read a bit more about the writing of the poem in the author’s note at the link above.

Having this appear at this time is especially poignant. May 16th would have been my mother’s 92nd birthday.

Tomorrow, May 22nd, will be the fifth anniversary of her death.

It’s a good day to remember the immense love and care that she showed for all of us for so many years.

Her love lives on.

(a different) Mother’s Day

In the US, we are observing Mother’s Day today. While its origin was in a call for peace after the Civil War, today it is celebrated as a tribute to mothers of all types and ages.

Since the death of my mother in May, 2019, Mother’s Day has felt bittersweet to me, as it brings back that time when, within two May weeks, there was my mom’s last Mother’s Day, birthday, and the date of her death. It’s complicated further by having daughter E and granddaughters ABC and JG five time zones away.

This year has brought the additional worry of a family member’s upcoming surgery and the possibility of an underlying disorder yet to be diagnosed.

Then, there is the general upheaval in the US and so many other places in the world, war, hunger, the climate crisis, disasters, and I will end the list here, but we know it is much longer.

It’s a lot with which to contend and I’m not coping very well.

I mentioned in a Stream of Consciousness Saturday post in mid-April that I was hearing a sound in my left ear. This, along with some additional symptoms, has led to several primary care visits, a diagnosis of tinnitus, some attempts at treatment, and, on Friday, a decision to order an MRI to rule out various tumors or other abnormalities.

Of course, there is the possibility of not “ruling out” but discovering.

I admit that I’m struggling. I’m practiced with blocking things out or setting them aside to concentrate on caring for family members. Part of my problem right now is that the timing is unfortunate as I am the main driver and errand-runner and don’t want to be out of commission when I’m needed to help with surgical recovery and follow-on medical appointments. I know spouse B will drop everything at work to take care of things but I also know that his project is in a critical phase right now.

I need humility, trust, and the grace to step aside and let others take over the work I should or have been doing and put other things aside for a while, but it’s hard and I’m worried and tired.

Maybe they will examine my head and not find anything.

Wait. That doesn’t sound right.

Maybe they won’t find anything dangerous.

Maybe, I can get a grip when the MRI is actually scheduled and on my calendar. After all, this is not my first rodeo with medical mystery ailments. Some of them have even been mine. I’m just more annoyed with my own. I know I need to channel some of the compassion I have toward others and apply it to myself.

And maybe take a nap.

It’s been helpful to write this down. I am questioning whether or not it is wise to post it, but have decided to do so because authenticity is part of the charm? hallmark? conceit? of Top of JC’s Mind.

And, yes, it’s Mother’s Day and B is making lamb spiedies and grilled asparagus with his homemade tiramisu for dessert.

And there have been sweet cards and a present.

And the lilies of the valley are starting to bloom.

They were my mother’s birth flower and a favorite of hers.

The photo is from my mother’s 87th and last birthday, lilies of the valley from our yard and cards from my father and their artist-friend Jim.

Miss you today, Mom.

February in London

Belatedly sharing a bit more about our February visit to see our daughter E, son-in-law L, and granddaughters ABC and JG.

Most of the visit was spending time with the family at our rental home in their East London neighborhood. There were games and make-believe, reading, puzzles, drawing, watching BBC children’s programs, especially Swashbuckle, eating, napping, and even a couple of sleepovers for ABC and JG.

Our nod to the girls’ being on half-term break from school was a visit to the Tower of London. Given that we had a 3- and 6-year-old in tow, it wasn’t the most comprehensive visit, but we did see the Crown Jewels, the White Tower, and more cannons and armor than I’ve seen in the rest of my life combined.

ABC and JG were not enamored of the ravens.


London winters are much milder than here in the Northeast US, so daffodils were blooming at our rental house, even though it was only mid-February.

There was the excitement of ABC losing her fifth baby tooth. Of course, the Tooth Fairy arrived on schedule!

Mostly, though, the trip was a time for me, B, and T to be Nana, Grandpa, and Auntie. Because of the distance and infrequency of visits, we aren’t sure when we will be able to see them again, so it’s nice to have a remembrance of some snuggling time.


(In the photo at the top of the post, ABC’s bear is wearing a Binghamton Rumble Ponies hat. The Rumble Ponies are the AA baseball club of the New York Mets. Bear is trying on ABC’s cap.)

(grand)childcare

(Photo: ABC’s bear wearing a Binghamton Rumble Ponies cap)

Spouse B, daughter T, and I are in London this week visiting daughter E, son-in-law L, and granddaughters ABC and JG for half-term break. This first half of the week, both E and L are working, so our main goal is taking care of ABC and JG so they can do that.

The last time we were together in person was April when they came to our home in the US. Although we do video calls, they can’t really capture the changes that happen. JG, now 3 and attending full-day nursery school is chatting up a storm! She loves making puzzles, zooming around our rental house near their home, and following the lead of 6-year-old ABC, who likes or tolerates it most of the time. ABC, now in year 2 at school, is reading well and a master of make-believe. She can make up songs and lyrics on the spot, taking after her musically-and-literary-accomplished parents. ABC also enjoys dance and art.

I love watching B being Grandpa, playing games, reading stories, preparing meals and snacks, and dozing off during naptime. T is an involved auntie, playing endless games of hide-and-seek and whatever make-believe ABC has invented and giving gentle hugs, in deference to her still-healing shoulder.

My favorite thing is just being here as family. With the ocean between us, it’s a rare gift to snuggle on the couch, especially with JG who was born during the early part of the pandemic and whom we didn’t get to meet in person until she was a year old. Such a different grandparenting experience than with ABC who lived with us in the US until she was two.

For JG, I’m just Nana. ABC, though, remembers her Great-Nana, who passed away in 2019.

I miss my parents and wish I could be as good a grandparent as they were with E and T.

Christmas ’23

I’ve been struggling with whether or not to write a post for Christmas Day.

Maybe, it’s because I’ve been struggling with just about everything related to Christmas this year.

For so many years, the Christmas season brought most of our extended family together, often over a period of days and in various constellations, but this year, it will be just me, spouse B, and daughter T at home together. Daughter E and her family are celebrating an ocean away at home in London. B’s and my siblings are all busily dealing with their families and/or medical issues.

This lack of planned travel and guests turned out to have a silver lining when T was offered a slot for a needed shoulder surgery last week due to a cancellation in the surgeon’s schedule. So, our already subdued Christmas plan got even quieter as we have factored in the early stages of recovery.

While I’ve done some of the Christmas preparations, like singing in Lessons & Carols with the Madrigal Choir of Binghamton, writing Christmas cards and letters, and some gift-shopping and wrapping, the bulk of the decorating, cooking, and baking has been handled by B, with an assist from T prior to her surgery.

I’m sure that my feeling more somber than festive is not helped by the state of the world. The continuing horrors of war in Ukraine, the Middle East, Sudan, and elsewhere. The ever-increasing evidence of climate change impacts. The increasingly vile political rhetoric and threats against judges, Jewish people, Muslims, immigrants, pubic officials, etc. here in the US. The local battle against CO2 fracking with global implications here in the Southern Tier of New York. Increases in cases of flu and COVID in the Northern Hemisphere as winter sets in.

This somber time we face is also reflected in my religious observances. For many years, I was actively involved in music and liturgy planning for Advent and the Christmas season, but I haven’t been for a number of years now. While I still attend and participate in services, some of the anticipation and joy is muted for me.

It’s also true that there are many difficult issues raised by the nativity narrative that seem particularly salient to me this year. The real dangers that Mary faced as a young woman facing pregnancy before marriage. Her being forced to travel and give birth away from the comforts of home and neighbor-women who could come to her aid. The threats to her baby’s life. The slaughter of children ordered in an attempt to kill him. Fleeing to protect her child and their becoming refugees.

Angels and magi aside, there was a lot of pain, fear, and loss.

With all of this in my head, I went to 10 PM mass at my church for Christmas Eve. There was a photo of the baby Jesus amid rubble as displayed at a Palestinian-Lutheran Church in Bethlehem, the birthplace of Jesus on the West Bank, where Christmas observances usually draw crowds from around the world but are not being publicly held this year because of the war. The homily dealt directly with the struggle that I have been having this year and called on us to have hope. As part of the homily, we sang the first verse of “O Little Town of Bethlehem” near the beginning and the fourth, final verse at the end. We sang:

O holy Child of Bethlehem,
descend to us, we pray;
cast out our sin and enter in;
be born in us today.
We hear the Christmas angels,
the great glad tidings tell;
O come to us, abide with us,
our Lord Emmanuel!

Phillips Brooks

The message is to have hope because God, who is Divine and Eternal Love, is with all people of good will, as the angels announce.

I admit that hope is not one of my better virtues, but I will continue to add my actions, small though they are, in the efforts to make the world safer, more loving, more kind.

After all these centuries, still searching for the peace the angels proclaimed…

Review: American Symphony

Last night, B, T, and I watched American Symphony on Netflix, a documentary which followed the extraordinary musician Jon Batiste in 2022. It is also being shown in theaters.

I had loved watching Jon Batiste on The Late Show with Stephen Colbert. He and his band, Stay Human, were the house band on the show, beginning with its inaugural episode in 2015. I appreciated Jon’s talent, his ability to cross and blend musical genres, and his gentle, positive spirit. While his jazz roots were always in evidence, he would often use elements from classical music or indigenous/folk music in his compositions, arrangements, and improvisations. During the early part of the pandemic when the show was being produced remotely, Jon would often still have a segment with Stephen where they would talk from their respective homes and Jon would play a bit on his piano or sing. Even though things were very different, it was a comfort to hear Jon’s expressive, calming voice in a difficult time.

Jon always had multiple projects going on, including performing, recording, and composing. For example, he won an Oscar for best original score as one of the composers for Disney-Pixar’s Soul in 2021. 2022 was set to be another busy, productive year for Jon Batiste, which director Matthew Heineman set out to document on film.

Jon was preparing to premiere his “American Symphony” which would bring together elements of influence of his and American music on stage at Carnegie Hall for a one-time-only performance. He was about to be nominated for 11 Grammy awards across an array of genres. There was still his Late Show gig.

And then, his long-time partner and soon-to-be spouse, the writer/author Suleika Jaouad, had a recurrence of leukemia after ten years in remission and American Symphony transformed from being a documentary about a composer and his music into a film about love, life, living, and how art expresses that all, helps us to process, and propels us forward.

The openness of Jon and Suleika in showing us their pain, anxieties, and vulnerability, as well as their love, art, and joys, is incredibly brave and moving. It was upsetting to me to hear that Jon faced a lot of criticism and negative comments about his eleven Grammy nominations – and eventual five wins, announced while Suleika was beginning chemotherapy. It just seemed so mean-spirited to inflect on a gentle soul at such a vulnerable time. I had known that things were stressful for Jon because he needed to end his years as band leader at The Late Show, but I hadn’t realized the extent of the situation until watching American Symphony.

While being a musician or music-lover will add to your appreciation of this film, it is certainly recommended to all teens and adults who are open to honest expressions of the human condition. It is not for younger children, who might be upset by the intensity of the medical side of the story.

My best wishes to Jon and Suleika for many years of love and art to come. Thank you for sharing so much of yourselves with us.

Photo by Denise Jans on Unsplash