Feb 26, 2011

Garden State of Mind


Garden State of Mind

It has been three years since our move to Southern California from New Jersey. During this time I have taken note of those things that are similar, other things that are different and the so many things that are missed.

New Jersey has become a T.V. cliche.  The reality of New Jersey cannot be reduced to the one-dimensional characters that are presently found on the 'small' screen purporting to live the NJ life. Although diminutive in size, the state packs a punch in living life large and with few regrets.  Its best season, it may be argued, is springtime. This is when the air becomes heavy with the promise of rain showers.  After the clouds have burst forth and released the weight of their precipitation, the dewiness hangs in the air and hints at the cavalcade of flora and greenery that will shortly come forth within just a few days of rising temperatures.

Here is Southern California there is no likeness to the Garden State spring. There are, of course,  cycles of planting and harvest, but the season  is more banal and less a pronouncement of arrival and departure.

So I now reminisce in my mind as I treasure the memories of my New Jersey garden. My rush to the garden center to plan yet another year's color box of delightful blooms is but a mere memory of the past. I close my eyes and recall the riot of colors and scents that permeated every  available inch of earth and container. I pause to remember my nemesis, the garden squirrel, who determined to undermine my plantings as readily as I determined to rid my  jewel box garden of his presence. The battle raged on between us for many years with victorious relief only gained upon my departure. And, finally, I recall my happiness and overt joy at taking in the lush and plush spectrum of color that delighted me each and every day through out the season. There was much toil and great trouble in the planting of the garden, but there is no gain without pain. Each and every ache was worth it for this, truly, was my Garden State of mind.


Feb 11, 2011

Valentine's 'What If?'


Some Valentine's Day memories are 'What Ifs.'  Thoughts of my Uncle Gal are at the top of that list for me. His 'given' name was Valentine, but somewhere along the line  (I'm guessing by the third or fourth time he was playing fist-a-cuffs with some classmate after a name-calling exchange) he determined that the name had to be altered and so he fashioned the 'V' into a  'G' and thus he became Gal.

Uncle Gal was my mother's boyfriend during her teenage years. It was understood by the entire family that this union would be sealed in the blissful state of matrimony. My mother, alas, had other plans. Being the headstrong young woman which she was, she wriggled her way out of the relationship and moved onto other beaus. Gal was devastated and sought the comfort and proverbial shoulder of my mother's sister, Aunt Helen. She, herself, had just experienced a tumultuous ending to a long standing relationship and was ripe for the companionship. Timing is everything as they say.

Any primary level detective could deduce the outcome of this scenario and before long that blissful wedding that the family anticipated indeed took place. It was, however,  between Gal and Helen, with Dotti (that's my mom) out of the immediate picture. It wasn't much later that emotions had cooled among all parties and the family moved on with Gal embraced as the fourth son in addition to  to my mom's three brothers.

Aunt Helen and Uncle Gal never had children. Instead, they lavished attention on select nieces. Ok, so now you may further guess that the two nieces who received the greatest abundance of their attention were me and my sister. It seemed only natural to me during my younger years that Uncle Gal would be so loving to me. After all, I was a very receptive child.  But as the years passed and the wisdom that accompanies age allowed me to see the BIG picture, it really saddened me as I wondered if Uncle Gal was especially loving to Dotti's girls for the sentimental reason of wondering 'what ifs' along the way.

So this is my special Valentine's Day memory. More than the day and its symbolism, for me, it always reminds me of my Uncle Valentine aka Gal. He lost the love of Dotti, refound  love with Helen and bestowed unconditional love upon Dotti's girls.

What if . . . ?