When I Was 12

Stevie Nicks

Stevie Nicks (Photo credit: Eva Rinaldi Celebrity and Live Music Photographer)

Sitting at my laptop on a snowy day off work. Delicious words whirl and twirl through my head but how to put them on paper for you all to enjoy? Jamming to Pandora gets my memories stirring. How creative was Fleetwood Mac and heck, all of the entertainers of the 70’s! Maybe it’s just my age showing, maybe I”m getting old and think that everything from my era is the best. Maybe but maybe it’s just the truth.

Rhiannon by Stevie Nicks of Fleetwood Mac now pours from my laptop speakers. On it’s lyrics floats a starry summer night of mine,  sitting around the campfire in our backyard. I had a friend spending the night and we were camping out. The transistor was our companion and the fire was begging for some serious staring and contemplating life.

But alas, where was this so called friend. She informed me that she preferred to be in the house with my big sister, Peggy. All of twelve years old, I was  learning some hard life lessons this night. Some people really didn’t want to spend time with wonderful little old me! They just wanted  to get closer to one of my cool older siblings. Later I would find this especially true in the case of my older brother, Jeff,  but this first time it was my sister, Peg, 4 years my senior, that was the intent of my friend, Jess.

Jess was a couple years older then me, a tall, beautiful blondie with a carefree personality. Flattered by her attention to me I had quickly agreed to have her come for a camp out. I should have seen that coming I reprimanded myself as I turned up the radio and poked at the fire.

The fire sparked as I gave it some good hard jabs and I turned my face upwards towards the sky. The sparks floated up with a fierceness and died out with a small wisp of smoke.

“Rhiannon rings like a bell through the night
And wouldn’t you love to love her?
Takes through the sky like a bird in flight
And who will be her lover?” (Nicks).

Stevi Nicks rang out as the words  filled my mind and I kept my head up, shifting my gaze to the millions of stars twinkling above.

“All your life you’ve never seen a woman
Taken by the wind
Would you stay if she promised you Heaven?
Will you ever win?”(Nicks).

With the crackling of the fire,  sensual rhythm and mystical words filling my little girl senses, I felt something begin to stir inside me.

“She is like a cat in the dark
And then she is the darkness
She rules her life like a fine skylark
And when the sky is starless.”(Nicks).

I felt my sadness seeping out and something new began to dawn within me…a feeling I didn’t recognize. There was a mixture of wonderment, hope,  freedom. These words were speaking right to me. Some kind of a promise for my future was in her words, as if someone somewhere was calling to me and telling me good things were to come. Someone, someday would be mine and stay with me and be my forever.

While my sister, Peg and her boyfriend had clandestine meetings at Lake Siemer, I spent that summer laying in his car playing his 8 track player.  Fleetwood Mac, Blue Oyster Cult, Rod Stewart and whatever 8 track was available to me, I lay there with my eyes closed and drank them in. I believed them. I held on to the hope of them. I learned the lessons they taught.

Well, people, girlfriends, men, coworkers have come and gone and sometimes its my fault and some times not. Sometimes it’s mutual. But thirty some years later, I realize I’m still learning life’s hard lessons. Still, whenever I hear this song, I am slammed right back to that long ago summer night and the smell of fire and the huge huge sky full of millions of sparkling things that was my future.

When I was twelve, the word’s of the 70’s became my life.

 

 

 

Nicks,Stevie.  “Rhiannon” Music by Fleetwood Mac. (Rhiannon). Reprise. 1975.

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God’s Angelic Author

She bore twelve children and we just called her mom. We never realized that she was a young woman once, with dreams all her own. We’ve glimpsed old photos of her with sassy pigtails and a tiny waist. But those old photos never whispered the ambitions and aspirations she relinquished to give us life. We only know that our father came home from the war as a young man to find his best friend’s little sister all grown up. Beautifully, she came walking down the steps. Stunned, he looked up and said, ” Why Mary Ellen! You’re all grown up!”  Her blush was to be the very beginning of a beautiful 52 years of life together.

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Such a simple lady, living amongst her children, serving her husband, toiling beside him there on that sweet land they loved. A dreamer was she, a lover of words. Many a play day echoed with the sound of her old typewriter clackity-clacking in our ears. Through her writings one could easily realize that when she looked her eyes saw that the dirt was gold, and the trees were majestic, the wind, that blew the leaves, the warm breath of God. Hers were mystical words that created an amazing world.

Her writings were actually little pieces of art. Words and sentences wove together to form one grand masterpiece. When we cut them apart to search for quotes to adorn photos at her funeral, we found that each small sentence was somehow a great piece of wisdom. So beautifully carved  and laid there before us, were they, that we didn’t even realize she was gone. It seemed to me that she was there, just above our shoulder, nudging us and whispering to us.

My niece and I poured over her old photos and simultaneously mused through her writings. Brittany would pull out a photo and magically the sentence I was reading would seem to match right up to that picture. We felt such a closeness to her as we toiled away on our little project. We wanted to stay there drowning in her words and memories. Let tomorrow and tomorrow come and go while we drank her words and relived her life. We felt happy and sad. We felt her presence.

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Maybe she had finally reached her highest ambition. The Alzheimer’s fog  would have cleared for her now and  I could imagine her making little memos of the rippling, swooshing wings she witnessed. I could hear her laughter as she scribbled precious words to her Lord. I imagined the twinkle in her eyes as she took note of his incredible creations, painting all of Heaven with her beautiful words.   Perhaps finally she was there at the throne, God’s angelic author.

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Inside “I”

Inside “I”
Are good things
Looks, thoughts
Understanding

I keep “I”
Close to myself
Cause “I”
Is easily harmed.

Inside “I”
Is the  way I am
Feelings and ideas
Inside “I”.

~Sara Jane~

Quiet Is The Morning

On little kitten paws
Tomorrow becomes today
We groan and turn
Holding on to dreams

And today nudges
As reality teases
Still we fight
The dawn

Quiet is the morning
Holding all it’s possibilities
Gentle is the sun
Before it decides how the day must be

                                                                  ~Sara Jane~

Words Of His Heart

As my love sits beside me
Playing his guitar
Singing and humming
My heart fills and I smile.

This gentle giant 
Stumbled upon me
And offered his shelter

As I was drowning one day.

Kissing my forehead
He took my hand
And oh so gently
Pulled me back to myself.

Words of his heart
Rained  from his mouth
Softly falling all around me
He anchored my life.

We road my storms out
He and me
He held me up
And I just held on.

My smiles are for him now
As my sun shines daily
And his lovely words
Have turned to song.

~Sara Jane~



 

Whisper Me the Words

Funny little children
Where have you been
Hiding in my mind
Running just out of reach
climbing through the memories
To dance on my keyboard now

Tap the keys with gleeful shrieks
Peer over my shoulder
Whisper me the words
Twirl and swirl
Stir the visions of my youth
Lay them here before me

Please, keep your sweet funny faces near
Remind me of your laughter and smiles
Nudge me with your tears and pain
Enthrall me with your innocence
I’ll capture your essence as best I can
Write it on paper permanantly

Play Me a Song

I want to rock
I want to roll
I want to touch you
Down in your soul

 Play me a song
I’ll write you the words
We’ll give the people
Something they’ve never heard

 Sing about love
Wail about loss
Give them your mind, your body
Whatever the cost

 Tell them you love me
I’ll give you the words
Come on baby
Let’s rock this world

~Sara Jane~

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