Reach for the Heavens

I sat in the theatre knowing I was sitting amidst a story I had to write; it was too special to keep it to myself.

Rewind 40 years: Do you see us – my sister and me screaming “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious” at the top of our lungs as if nothing else in the entire world mattered? Singing “A Spoonful of Sugar” in such a strange way as to roll every single “r” in the song – “A spoonful of sugarrrrrrr.” Silly. Fun. I’m surprised I didn’t carve new grooves into my Mary Poppins album I played it so often.

Fast forward to Mother’s Day 2009: To my delight I opened my card to find two tickets staring back at me – two tickets to Mary Poppins the musical. And my oldest son, the giver, was accompanying me. We waited three long months until the date finally rolled around.

I was so excited. We dressed up, plugged in Mabel a.k.a. GPS and away we went. We were in the company of many groups of mothers and…daughters walking toward the theatre. Many, many girls all dressed up in their Sunday best in sweet little sundresses swinging sweet little purses. Mother/daughter outings. Never had one of those. I commented on the preponderance of females. Monotone voice replies, “I know, Mom.”

What a trooper!

We enter the theatre and I step back in time. I love theatres; of course, my son knows this. We find our seats and wait for the curtain to rise. The instant it does we hear the little voice directly behind my son, “I can’t see anything!”

Oh well. Get up on your knees Sweetie! We’re not moving.

How the songs took me back! I was the little girl again. But as the production continued, songs that I had to have heard as a child, but didn’t remember at all, rang with new meaning: “Being Mrs. Banks should be an easy role. And yet it’s one which I don’t seem too good at on the whole. I have a comfy home. I have a comfy life. I have a name which tells the world I’m someone else’s wife.”

Ladies??? I’d wager one or two of you can relate. Am I right?

So now I’m sitting there experiencing a gamut of emotions. Next, the first haunting strains of “Feed the Birds” plays, and the woman next to me sighs. A minute later the woman in my chair cries. What is it about that song? From child through woman it’s been my favorite. The music, the words, the whole package has always touched me to my core.

“Feed the birds. Tuppence a bag. Tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag…All around the cathedral the saints and apostles look down as she sells her wares. Although you can’t see them, you know they are smiling each time someone shows that he cares. Though her words are simple and few, listen, listen she’s calling to you.”

Oh, she’s calling to me alright. She’s been calling for over 40 years. You think just maybe the birds aren’t birds at all, but are the very people with whom we spend our lives – our children, spouses, parents and friends? Feed them. Help them. Love them.

So there I am surreptitiously crying all over the place.

And then Mary Poppins opens her umbrella and flies up, up, up. So cool! I know there are wires, but still, it’s soooo cool. The little girls are oohing and ahing. Just seeing the set of the Banks’ house, and the way the stagehands manipulate it is worth the price of admission, but there’s so much more.

When I saw Bert walk straight up the wall, across the ceiling and down the other side, again, wires, but this guy must be in such great shape to be able to do that. I have to go the gym more. However, even that, as spectacular as it was, cannot compare to the last scene.

Mary Poppins grabs hold of that magical umbrella (or is it Mary who’s magical?), and soars up once again. Only this time she floats up, up, out into the audience, above the audience, and UP TO THE BALCONY! Can you tell I’m just a little impressed! Can you imagine being a little girl and watching Mary Poppins fly above your head and disappear?

Well, I just had to have that souvenir umbrella, that’s all there was to that. And the purse and the CD and the pin.

In one heartfelt gift my son gave me my childhood, my present and my future. Mary and company sang, “Broaden your horizon, open different doors, you may find a you there that you never knew was yours…Anything can happen if you let it. If you reach for the stars all you get are the stars. But we’ve found a whole new spin – if you reach for the heavens, you get the stars thrown in.”

What a heavenly day! Thank you, my dear one.

~ Maureen :)

Queenship of Mary

The following is my favorite poem I've written about Mary. I've posted it before, but on this the Queenship of Mary, I thought I'd post it again. I hope you like it. It's called Tears of a Mother.

Drop by drop the tears spill out upon her cheek
Little spurts of sadness week after week
Quiet cries inflict the pain upon her heart
Until a new day begins and she must start
To do all that is expected of her
And say not a word

How will she watch Him day after day
Living and loving in that little boy way?
How will she do all for Him that she must
Instilling in Him faith, hope and trust
When all the while destiny draws near
And say not a word?

How will she steer Him on His clear course?
Who will be her unending source
Of wisdom and virtue and unending love
To teach her the values of God above?
For whom does she pray
Yet say not a word?

As her Boy grows into the Man
She can do more than anyone can
To ease His fear, to lift His eyes
To the Father above who also cries
In pain for the Son who must suffer
And still she says not a word

Why was she chosen to bear such a weight?
How will she live knowing His fate
Just waiting and watching until that day
When soldiers come to take Him away
To a death long foretold to save us all?
Yet all will watch and say not a word

by Maureen Locher

My Small Successes

My Small Successes This Week
They don’t seem so small to me – I’m really quite thrilled with them. They all have to do with my oldest son.
1. This week we had a heart-to-heart about many of his concerns. Being a young adult isn’t easy in this world. And for once, I listened more than I talked! I really listened to his concerns, and gave them thoughtful consideration rather than spouting the usual party line. We had a great dinner together, just the two of us, mother and son, friend to friend.
2. He took action on a key concern of his – real concrete action, and I feel very proud that I had something to do with his decision.
3. And my dear one signed up for one college class edging nearer his degree. I’m REALLY happy about this one!

So there you have it. Small successes of a mom in transition. I jokingly call myself a tweeny mom. Sons almost 19 through 24 don’t exactly come running for advice anymore; they need to make their fair share of mistakes so they will learn from them. However, taking a backseat in their lives is much harder than you may imagine, unless of course, you are also a mom in transition. If so, I welcome you to my Web site. Look around. You just may find something you like!

I encourage you to read Mom Moments and leave a message about your own children, as well as checking out My Take on 3.

~ Maureen :)

Change Your "To-Do's" into "Ta-Da's"

Yesterday I wrote about yesterday’s yesterday. Today I shall write about today’s yesterday. Got that?

For a brief, brainless moment yesterday while still lying in bed, I contemplated skipping Mass and Bible Study to instead: wash dishes, fold clothes, and generally whip my house into shape in preparation for my son’s birthday cookout on Saturday. And I also hoped to find the time to write something worth reading.

Sanity prevailed, no doubt by some heavenly mom writer nudge, and I dressed and went where I belong to begin my days. I could have washed those dishes, folded those clothes and written those words, among other ‘to-do’s.” Or I could have listened to God speak to me. I could have been nourished by His Body and His Blood, or I could have had a clean glass from which to drink.

I chose to follow the example of the enlightened woman at the well. She didn’t need a bucket; I don’t need a clean cup. I just need what’s in the Cup.

So, how did my day unfold? Mass, followed by Bible Study, writing, catching up with a friend, and writing some more. My kind of day! I filled up in the morning so I could empty myself the rest of the day, nourished from the Word, the Bread and the Cup. And among my scribbled notes at Bible Study, I happily reread: “My whole existence is in revealing God.”

Right now, I swear on a stack of bibles that I am looking at a little saying I’d ripped out of a magazine, and taped to my bedside table months ago: Change your “to-do’s” into “ta-da’s.”

I did that yesterday. I wish you the grace to change your to-do’s into ta-da’s today and all your tomorrows.

~ Maureen :)

Sanity Savers

Have you ever had so many words in your head you felt your brain would burst?

Last week I attended a Catholic Writers’ Conference in New Jersey. This “mom” interacted with total strangers all week long – such lovely memorable strangers. And all she wanted to do was write about her new experiences.

However, I drove home to my messy house with zero food that four men, called sons, occupied during said week. My first challenge: So-help-me-God, I was not washing one dish! And I haven’t; they have. It took the dear darlings two days of unconcentrated effort, but I didn’t cave. Score a very small victory for mom.

I’m lucky enough to visit my parents, ages 89 and 90, twice a week in their home. Every day they are able to remain in their own house is a blessing, so I shop and I help. Ours were not the only Mother Hubbard cupboards; two – count ‘em two – large grocery store trips punctuated my yesterday.

Second challenge: arrived home to no electricity. How special! And last night all I wanted to do was write, not buy many bags of ice, and borrow a generator. But as any mom writer feels resoundingly in her core, we cannot always write when we want to write. We steal our moments. We juggle. We make do.

Arriving home from Mass and Bible Study this morning, I faced the third challenge: How not to blow my top as one son was still asleep near noon and another was watching a movie. Movie son had straightened a bit, but only a bit. We had THE TALK again. They are working; I am writing…as God intended. I hear the melodious strains of the weed whip as I write – better than any celestial choir.

Moms’ lives are certainly fraught with endless challenges, but mom writers can write about them, and learn a little something from other moms along the way. I’m convinced we keep each other sane. Thank you for your part this day!

More tomorrow…

~ Maureen :)