LIFE DOES GO ON

A series of essays.....

SUN RISING OVER THE ATLANTIC OCEAN ALONG THE FLORIDA COAST

.....as seen through my eyes!

By: Jacqueline E. Hughes


"In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: It goes on."
                                                                                                   ~Robert Frost

CITYSCAPE

Just when you think the sun will never rise again from the depths of a shimmering ocean horizon, the shadowy tree line surrounding a meadow of purple wildflowers, or a cement skyline while standing in the center of a towering cityscape.....it miraculously does. You ask yourself.....why?

Undoubtedly, it is the most difficult situation we humans will ever find ourselves experiencing. In the written words of Mr. Jim Harrison, in his novel The River Swimmer, the answer may be as simple as, "Humans are ill-prepared for the miraculous." Following heartbreak, "It's too much of a jolt and the human soul is not spacious enough to deal with it."

When deep despair shatters your world with its unjust cruelty, you feel that Hope has abandoned your life forever and the darkness that surrounds you is as complete and cold as a moonless Winter's night. The heaviness upon the heart is matched by the colossal weight of the tragedy or adversity that pushes down from above and offers to take your breath away.......releasing you from the horrors of life itself.

Release me now for what good is life if each breath I take creates more pain now that I know what pain is all about? You will ask yourself this over and over again. Day and night.

We take time-out from constant memory and pray that we can forget, even for a little while, and nap to rest our brain, our souls, for the moment. I pray you dream of peace and forgiveness. Eventually, they must come. However, tonight nightmares enfold you with reminders of hate and fear. This process is continuous and, seemingly, never ending.

You awaken perspiring yet chilled to the bone with no apparent recourse in sight. Do you remember that your own story is certainly not eternal as is the earth and any creature, human or otherwise? It is difficult for you to accept anything as it is presented to you. You understand that you must question the nature of everything as you know you must pull yourself back into the light and emerge from the darkness.

As an individual it is difficult to proceed and the general cruelty of life is too often overwhelming. Within a community you take solace in the strength of those around you. Those who often share the same fears but shed the burden of hate by coming together, holding hands, lighting candles, and by shear numbers alone know that the productiveness of life is miraculous, a gift granted to all who believe in life and all of its many miracles....

There are absolutely no excuses when it comes to taking an innocent life through a violent action whether it be in peacetime or war, through outright feelings of hatred or clinical depression, mild through severe, that requires immediate intervention. The possibility of stopping people from doing what they do to each other seems out of the question. We do not exist in a bubble, after all.

If we become a witness to your grief and our brains seem a little bruised by everything that has transpired and it becomes a burden of emotions, take our hand and walk us through your pain. I warn you....even a bystander should not suffer all alone. It will not go well. We are in this thing called life together and together we will make it through to the end.

And one day, as they lay you down to rest, others will see the urgency in getting on with their own lives. This desperation of mortality is always present when someone we know passes on.

"Life goes on. So, appreciate what you got. Life will hit you when you're not prepared. And one day, when you're gone.......Life will still go on."

                                                ~From the 1977 album entitled Sleepwalker by The Kinks.


This story is dedicated to the Beautiful People of Kalamazoo, Michigan, and the surrounding area who have recently suffered the tragic and unconscionable loss of members of its community. I want you to know that we are holding your hands through the questions and the pain. JEH


Tomorrow is another day....

Kalamazoo Strong!


   
Copyright © 2016 by Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved

A TRIBUTE TO HARPER LEE

A series of essays.....

NELLE HARPER LEE: THEN AND NOW

.....as seen through my eyes!




By: Jacqueline E. Hughes


This is my personal tribute to "Little Nelle," Harper Lee, author of the timeless novel, To Kill a Mockingbird, as well as her recently published prequel, Go Set a Watchman. This story was originally published a little over a year ago on February 12, 2015. Sadly, this acclaimed author, Pulitzer Prize winner who pushed her way into a 'Man's World' and won, passed away today, February 19, 2016, at the age of eighty-nine.



February 12, 2015
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Little insights and stories that have caught my attention over the past week.  Sharing some of them with you during this Valentine's week of celebration.....with Love.   JEH

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



What an amazing name Harper is.  I read once that her first name is Nelle.  Nelle Harper Lee.  Always wondered why she published under her middle name of Harper.  Not really such a surprise given the fact that Nelle is such a feminine, nostalgic and 'girlie' name.  I surmise that to sell this book back in 1960, a book filled with such poignant prejudice and striking inequities, Harper was dealing with some prejudices of her own. 

A female and first time author, Nelle probably did pretty much what she had been told to do by her editor even if it included changing her main character, Scout, from a woman returning home after many years into a young girl coming-of-age in the South. 

Nelle listened, but at what price?  And, I'm not too sure, having read her biography and taken-in some of her references towards naïveté and being an outcast as a child due to an extremely 'Tomboyish' personality, that these factors didn't project her as a hardworking young female pushing the parameters of a 'Man's World.' 

Did it break her?  Had she had enough with the publication of her one book?  No matter how many accolades they bestowed upon her, including a Pulitzer Prize and making her novel into a movie in 1962, soon to become a classic in its own right, did she say the sacrifice really wasn't worth it anymore and moved-on with her life? 

I will be lining-up to buy and read her prequel, as I refer to it instead, Go Set a Watchman, because it had been written before her editor intervened!  Of course, it will be expected and natural even to contrast and compare it with To Kill a Mockingbird.  I hope Nelle is braced and ready for the bumpy ride!


Copyright © 2016 by Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved

COFFEEHOUSE CHATTER ~ MANDY, LESLIE, AND JOAN

 A series of essays.....

.....as seen through my eyes!

By: Jacqueline E. Hughes

From time to time, our neighborhood gals meet at the corner coffeehouse to relax, sip their favorite brew or concoction, and warm-up their hands and hearts...together!

Some might think of their meeting as a 'cleansing' or 'purification of the soul.' Even though they may share similar backgrounds and values, their ideas and opinions can be as diverse and variable as the weather outside of the little shop.

Let's grab a cup of our own, take a comfortable seat, sit back and listen to what today's chapter of 'Coffeehouse Chatter' has to offer....

MANDY, LESLIE AND JOAN.....


Inside a neighborhood coffeehouse, three friends meet as often as possible and discuss life in all of its wonderful shapes, colors, and textures. 

Mandy: Ah! Will you just take a look at her boots! No woman that 'chunky' and over thirty should wear boots that tight or high up the leg. It reminds me of an erupting volcano I made for a science fair project long ago.

Leslie: Oh, stop that! Since when have you become the 'fashion police?'

Mandy: Since seeing that lady in those damn boots!!!

Leslie: Well, as usual, Joan is flying on her own time this morning. I hope she's okay. Walking the eight blocks here in this weather always worries me a bit.

Mandy: She's a big girl. Say, there she is now. (Waving) And look, sensible boots on her, too. Not like....

Leslie: Don't go there, girl.

(Several minutes later.....)

Joan: Good Morning, Ladies. Love our dear barista. He always knows what I want and practically has it ready for me when he sees me walk through the door.

Mandy: Doesn't hurt that he's cute, young and totally ripped, either!

J & L: Bonus! (In unison)

Leslie: Has anyone else felt a bit 'foggy' lately? You know, kind of 'out of it' and disillusioned a bit?

Mandy: Hell, yes! Can't stand living through any Presidential election.....especially this one. So much hatred, blatant lies, and character ripping. And then, there's the Republican side!!

Joan: You'd think we would have gotten used to all of this over the past years, wouldn't you? But, no.... Dragging others down as low as possible seems to be the norm.

Leslie: Exactly! It's never about what they can really do to help make lives more prosperous and stable. That's the 'funk' I've been in lately. It seems we're so inundated by hatred through television and social media that I just want to crawl into the fetal position and sleep until mid-November!

Joan: Sometimes I feel that discombobulated and strange, too. Like when I try to button a blouse after wearing Fred's large, comfy shirts all week long. Could never understand why the buttons and buttonholes are switched for men and women.

Mandy: Because, even though we don't like to admit it, men and women differ on so many counts. We're all human....yet, his buttons are on the right and ours are on the left. Hey, no political inflection there at all!!

Leslie:  In the name of principles, Mandy, and contrary to your belief, there are many women who favor the conservative right and cherish the Christian attitudes it tends to embrace and....

Mandy: ....unabashedly inflict these ideas upon everyone else! Say, what ever happened to the 'Separation of Church and State,' anyway? (Staring intently at Joan) You have a little bit of froth attached to the left side of your mouth, Love.

Joan: Thanks.... Thomas Jefferson declared that the clause against establishment of religion by law was intended to erect a wall of separation between church and state. However, the Supreme Court hasn't always interpreted the constitutional principle as absolute. It remains an ongoing subject of impassioned debate, I'm afraid.

Leslie: I see why your students are so fortunate to have you as their teacher, Joan. But, doesn't it always seem that our Constitution is based upon such generous interpretation? Founded on ideals that can swing one way or the other?

Mandy: Oh, and they do these days! Well, I mean this in a good, healthy sense, of course. Don't look at me like that, ladies. And when you say 'erect a wall,' doesn't that play right into crazy Donald Trump territory?

Joan: All points taken, Mandy.

Mandy: Indeed. Anyone for a warm, flaky croissant with our coffee? I'm buying. Good. I'll be back in a wink.

Leslie: Got to love that woman! She has a knack for saying things most of us only think about.

Joan: It would be refreshing to always be so open and honest. Wish I could be more like that, truth be told.

Leslie: I don't think the three of us hold too much back from one another. At least, not here, anyway. Besides, just being able to talk about all of this has helped me, considerably. Typing to the 'world' on Facebook isn't quite the same as close, personal contact. Especially when laced with affection and the acute necessity for coffee!!

Joan: I understand completely, Leslie. Maybe caffeine is a truth serum and these small, coffee retreats were established to bring out the secrets we all hold inside and they are backed by the government with the information compiled and stored for future reference?!?

Leslie: Um, that would be a 'Mandyism.' You clearly seem to be breaking out of your funk. Now all we have to do is look for the hidden camera and microphone. Paranoia has reared its ugly head.

Joan: After 2008....paranoia, defeatism, disillusionment, label that time period what you will, has become the norm rather than the exception among the so-called Middle and Lower classes. Sad, but true. The ramifications of a depression of any magnitude will assist in creating waves of disappointment for many years afterwards forming an unstable and negative environment.

Leslie: Wow! You have officially lost your 'Upper' status for me this morning, Lady! But, I know what you're saying.....and, fact is fact. We'd all like to revert to the days of hopscotch and playing jacks on the sidewalk with our friends. But, I'd like to think that we could retain that feeling for our children and grandchildren for as long as possible.

Joan: Speaking of children..... Ah! Let me help you with that, Mandy.

Mandy: Girls!! Sorry it took so long. But, you remember our little discussion about 'ribbed abs' and so forth? Well, I've just discovered 'buff pecs' and 'tight buns,' as well! And, his name is Collin. He just began working here yesterday. Something nice to look forward to. Am I right?

Leslie: Absolutely! (Wink) Please don't touch the croissants for a second. I must take a picture for my Foodie Blog Post. (Click) Thank you. These look incredibly delicious.

Joan: Unfortunately, now our coffees are running low. I. Need. More. Coffee! (Standing up) The same all around I believe.....

Mandy: .....I'll go! Just sit tight, Joan. I'm sure Collin and I can handle this together! (Smiling all the way to the counter.)

Until next time.....with more, Coffeehouse Chatter.


Copyright © 2016 by Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved

"LOVE IS JUST LOVE, IT CAN NEVER BE EXPLAINED"

A series of essays.....

~~~~HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY TO HUMANKIND~~~~

.....as seen through my eyes!



By: Jacqueline E. Hughes


Should Love have to be explained?

Is it possible to treat Love as a color? Create its texture, temperature, and appeal to share with someone who may not be able to see the color for themselves yet desires knowing what it might look like if they could? To descriptively open up our souls to the suggestion of shimmering silvers, wet and sharp as lake water beginning to freeze over, or the chill of a 'Winter Blue' kind of day, or the softness of pale yellow as it wraps us in its warmth during a sun-filled, afternoon walk.

If Love were a color....what would it be? Red, blue, yellow, blushing pink, or as white as freshly fallen snow?

Love might be the fluid crimson of a perfect rose, generously given and delightfully received throughout the ages as a symbol of affection and beauty. Gifts between lovers in celebration of their commitment to and desire for one another. With compassion and Love we mark a wedding anniversary, filial affection displayed as gratitude for a Mother's Love, and the generous offering of a spray of roses at the passing of a Loved one that symbolizes the honor and reverence we hold in our hearts for their time shared with us here on earth.

Love is a feeling deep inside each of us. It is up to us to tap into its source and allow it to flow freely.

Love can be as strong as the wind, rushing out in palpable waves that surround its recipient in hot, white sheets of passion. It can be as light as the breeze of a summer's evening sending silent chills throughout our being; shivers of delight and promise. Love is the excitement of finally traveling to see a foreign landscape. No longer a perceptible thought or desire, but a living, breathing, observable expanse of scenery waiting to be explored and better understood. Love is inhaling the scent of a new puppy or kitten. Love is the unadulterated joy felt when holding your grandchild in your arms for the first time. It is the recognition of our own existence passed forward into this small, precious gift of life!

Tapping into the well of Love allows us to see the world within a broad spectrum of capabilities and raw emotions.

Shall we soar high above the earth like a great bird held aloft by the rising currents of warm air, floating along to our heart's content? Looking down below us, we take immense pleasure in the natural beauty our world offers....God's eye candy for the soul! Sadly, this vantage point would also reveal the travesty of humankind witnessed by our innate capacity to destroy, hate, and kill! From a child's cry of hunger and pain, to bombs bursting in air....what will it take to shift our priorities and allow each one of us to live in peace on this amazing planet? The answer would be, Love.

Love is strong. Love is powerful. Love is soft and kind. Love is the medium by which we cultivate, sow and harvest the joy within us and spread its essence around for others to administer as a tonic to heal humankind.

I am convinced that one day Love will succeed. It will turn haters and doubters into believers. When that blissful day arrives, we will no longer have the need to ask for a definition of, or an explanation for Love. It will become the 'natural' every day experience that directs us in complete harmony and peace. It will become the standard of behavior that is required, desired, and designated as normal.

"What is Love?" you query. "Love is just Love, it can never be explained........because it doesn't have to be. It is as natural as life itself."    



Copyright © 2016 by Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved


With Love in your heart, spend Valentine's Day with those you hold near and dear.

"LIFE IS SHORT, DEATH IS SURE.....that is all we know."

A series of essays.....

ST. PATRICK CATHOLIC CHURCH LOCATED
IN TERRE HAUTE, INDIANA

.....as seen through my eyes!





By: Jacqueline E. Hughes

Mr. Carson, played by the actor, Jim Carter, of recent Downton Abbey fame, puts life into perspective for all of us.

For those of you who follow Masterpiece and the Downton Abbey series on your local PBS station each Sunday evening......, (I record it and watch the program by nine o'clock on Monday morning), you will know about the character named Mr. Carson quite well. As the butler of the great estate, Mr. Carson is an innocent and loyal man who is nostalgic for the old order, traditional to a fault, and loyal and devoted to both the family and it's way of life.

Mr. Carson has accepted life with all of its pitfalls, class distinctions, and moments of stark reality, as a child might if he or she were so deeply protected from the outside world by everyone who loved them. Theirs is not to ask, but to accept; not to question, but to carry-on.

MR. CARSON PORTRAYED BY

ACTOR, JIM CARTER

So, when he exclaimed, "Life is short, death is sure. That is all we know," I was not surprised at how hard the words hit me.

How nice it would be to be able to see the world in black and white, omitting the entire gray area in between.....once again! To view the world as right or wrong, good or bad, happy or sad, in such an innocent and straight forward manner, would take me back to my early childhood. An accepting, unpretentious time of my life when 'older brother' ruled the roost and my love for him allowed it to be so. A time when parents always knew what was best for you and cold shivers would travel up my spine whenever I even imagined losing any of them in some horrific manner!

Mr. Carson has taken this feeling one step further by his admission of truth in understanding that life is minimal and it will certainly end in death and we are not to question or challenge this simple fact for it is inevitable. "That is all we know."

It wasn't until around the fourth grade while attending St. Patrick Parochial Elementary School in Terre Haute, Indiana, that Carson's statement first penetrated my personal and innocent impression of what I believed life to be all about. This 'imprint of reality' left its mark on my soul that will last an entire lifetime.....

Her long and luxurious, golden hair was often tamed within two thick braids that nearly covered the back of her slim silhouette. I was walking right behind her and heading back to class as we navigated the halls of St. Patrick School that particular September afternoon. How I envied her heavenly hair and pictured her sweet Mother overlapping each heavy strand as a braid began to form within her long, silky fingers. I'm certain that my sin of envy was confessed to our parish priest more often that autumn than I care to admit. "Father, it has been one week since my last confession....."

PAROCHIAL CLASSROOM IN

THE EARLY 1960'S

She was a year older than me and I admired her because she was never ashamed to talk to or play with the younger kids on the playground during recess. And, I knew she was an exceptionally good student because she was part of the mentor program where she encouraged and helped younger students to read. Her first name was......Josephine.

Several weeks into the school year and only a few weeks before Halloween, Josie became conspicuously absent and even the boys wondered if she had moved away after not seeing her for a while. We all reasoned how impossible this was since her younger brother, Michael, was still coming to school on a regular basis. Being the 'Innocents' that we were and having respect for authority drilled into us by the Sisters of Providence themselves, we accepted Josie's absence without question.....unconsciously living inside our sheltered 'black & white' world.

THE SISTERS OF PROVIDENCE

Halloween came and went, as did Thanksgiving, Christmas, and the brand new year. And still, beautiful Josephine was nowhere to be seen.

I remember the nuns and lay-teachers asking us to please not ask any questions of her little brother, Michael, because he had no answers to supply and we couldn't help but notice his deepening sadness and school days missed as time went by. For the most part, we complied. It was very difficult for all of us to understand.

Eventually, our own lives and activities filled in the gaps created by our lost student and friend as it often happens with young children bubbling within their own agendas. Spring was producing buttery daffodils that gently swayed in the warm breeze and trumpeted their pride of location as they lined the gray stone walls of St. Patrick Church. Life was fresh and new again with the promise of summer vacation just around the corner.

We girls were just rounding off our afternoon recess game of dodgeball when the small stranger, flanked by Sister Mary Rose and Mother Angelica, made her way out on the playground. Her face was rounded, almost to the point of distortion. What little hair she had left on her head reminded me of my baby doll, Lou Lou, who had been smothered with my love for so long her hair sprang up in tufts like the wild clumps of grasses that belie a well groomed lawn.

For the next few minutes, Mother Superior reintroduced this fragile, exotic creature to us as the early afternoon sun played hide-n-seek among the leaves of the large maple trees that skirted the concrete playground. Josie was like Bambi to us girls. Young, fragile, and in need of protection and care as we, initially, judged the situation out of pure instinct alone.

Not much else was offered to any of us in way of an explanation as to exactly what had happened to our friend. We were told that she was suffering from an illness that the doctors were hoping to cure her of and that we were to treat her as if nothing at all had changed......only, it had. Wondering what kind of a cruel joke God had played on Josie, on us, our young hearts and souls would forever be altered by this experience.

The school year played-out and with a white turban covering her head, Josie attended class and participated in most of our playground activities. Bursting forth from deep within, her 'joy of life' was incomparable and infectious. The girls, as well as the boys, fell in love with Josie all over again and nearly ignored her new appearance but always respected her space. In essence, we all adapted well and carried on with living.

With the arrival of summer vacation came a visit from our Michigan grandparents, a family trip to the Ozarks in Southern Missouri, and long, lazy summer walks with our friends down the many paths that meandered through the thick forest surrounding our home. Life was good, natural, and progressive and slipped by ever so quickly.

CATHOLIC ELEMENTARY SCHOOL

AND TYPICAL PLAYGROUND AREA

Thinking about seeing Josephine again, I entered fifth grade to find that this would be the first time I was to have a lay-teacher instead of a nun teach my class. That first day back, Mrs. Clark asked us all to walk quietly down to the gymnasium because Mother Superior and Father John had something important to tell us.

We were told how proud they were of all of us and that Josephine's parents and siblings were, as well. God had taken Josie from all of us during the warm months of summer and He welcomed her young soul with opened arms into His Kingdom. We mustn't be sad because it was Josie's wish to be a normal, happy, and accepted person among her friends here on earth for as long as possible and that all of us complied with her wishes.

Even as children, we were able to dismiss the facade of illness and the cruel consequences of its treatment and interact with the beautiful, living being that defined a friend who's final wishes were nothing more than to fit in and be loved. In short, we kept calm and carried on with the process of living....

As children being brought up in a Catholic home, Church, and school, we learned that death was a part of life and should be accepted as such. We understood that by being kind to others on earth would lead us to our ultimate goal of being with God in Heaven. We accepted this concept whenever we thought about Josephine and knew that, collectively, we helped to make her final days as comfortable as she had taught us to be when accepting and dealing with her pain and death. Together we made it through a difficult time.

Wiping the tears from my eyes this past Monday morning, Mr. Carson's words rang loud and clear in my mind. Yes, life is short and death is sure. However, it is how graciously we conduct ourselves within the short time we have here on earth that really matters. And, that is all we really need to know.


Copyright © 2016 by Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved