Lovely, Tift. And if you are looking for the start of a song look no further than the words you wrote in this blog. “This Leap” and “ I’m not keeping up with her shine. I am under the winter blankets of my mind. I cannot be present enough to catch the number of butterflies made by this small person in my house, and I’m frustrated with myself for it “ are as gorgeously poetic as they are heartbreaking. Thank you for sharing and belated happy birthday.
That is truly wonderful writing, Tift. I think I have just about the most fun reading your writing here and Jeff Foucault's writing in his monthly newsletters. And not just fun taken from the quality of the writing, but also from the deeply personal and true observations, insights, and uncertainties.
Your description of your anxiety fits me to a T -- could have written it myself. So, maybe don't worry too much about that. Anxiety is like a butter churn -- it has to churn and churn seemingly forever, but eventually something good comes from it in my experience. Maybe not always because, hard times, but often.
I too have been under thick quilts. Two to be exact, both handmade by my mother as some of the few things I have from her after she passed. That was a damaged relationship after she remarried and adopted views that I just could not get along with, so I didn't. But, I love her quilted and handmade throw pillows, and she at least knew that I loved those things she made, just as she knew how much we both enjoyed going to an art museum once long ago, just the two of us, when she seemed more like the person I remembered in my youth.
"Things fall apart, the center cannot hold." Sometimes.
I suspect that sweet, wonderful, wildly intelligent Ms. Jean suspects that this is sometimes true, and so she worries about that, as deeply as she sparkles brightly when she makes her little jokes and when she dreams up imagined situations. What a little gem of a "reckless daughter."
Your wonderful daughter, Tift. As Ms. Joni said:
I come from open prairie
Given some wisdom and a lot of jive
Last night the ghosts of my old ideas
Reran on channel five
And it howled so spooky for its eagle soul
I nearly broke down and cried
But the split tongue spirit laughed at me
He says, "your serpent cannot be denied"
Our serpents love the whisky bars
They love the romance of the crime
But didn't I see a neon sign
Fester on your hotel blind?
And a country road come off the wall
And swoop down on the crowd at the bar
And put me at the top of your danger list
Just for being so much like you are
Chin up, girls. People like you were meant to save the world, in small and maybe sometimes in big ways. Don't forget that.
You and Jean are so wonderfully honest with each other and you are so honest with yourself. Please know that when you are ready to share more music this year that we are over the moon about the opportunity to hear you.
i am so glad my granddaughters are friends with feisty fearless hilarious precocious precious Jean! our girls make me hopeful about our future! love from Mamie
Unfortunately, at 80 I’m past those wonderful days like you had. I do speak to my children often and always send “air” hugs until we can have real ones. We will have our peaceful life interrupted in March when one granddaughter and a friend or two take a break from Univ KY Law school and come to visit to share a little SC hospitality. Your story made me realize again how important those HUGS are. I love your music and wish you and Jean a lifetime of precious hugs. Peace
Yow. Wonderful. I always need to sit quietly for a bit after I read your writing.
Lovely, Tift. And if you are looking for the start of a song look no further than the words you wrote in this blog. “This Leap” and “ I’m not keeping up with her shine. I am under the winter blankets of my mind. I cannot be present enough to catch the number of butterflies made by this small person in my house, and I’m frustrated with myself for it “ are as gorgeously poetic as they are heartbreaking. Thank you for sharing and belated happy birthday.
My birthday is the 14th of January. We are very important people.
❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
That is truly wonderful writing, Tift. I think I have just about the most fun reading your writing here and Jeff Foucault's writing in his monthly newsletters. And not just fun taken from the quality of the writing, but also from the deeply personal and true observations, insights, and uncertainties.
Your description of your anxiety fits me to a T -- could have written it myself. So, maybe don't worry too much about that. Anxiety is like a butter churn -- it has to churn and churn seemingly forever, but eventually something good comes from it in my experience. Maybe not always because, hard times, but often.
I too have been under thick quilts. Two to be exact, both handmade by my mother as some of the few things I have from her after she passed. That was a damaged relationship after she remarried and adopted views that I just could not get along with, so I didn't. But, I love her quilted and handmade throw pillows, and she at least knew that I loved those things she made, just as she knew how much we both enjoyed going to an art museum once long ago, just the two of us, when she seemed more like the person I remembered in my youth.
"Things fall apart, the center cannot hold." Sometimes.
I suspect that sweet, wonderful, wildly intelligent Ms. Jean suspects that this is sometimes true, and so she worries about that, as deeply as she sparkles brightly when she makes her little jokes and when she dreams up imagined situations. What a little gem of a "reckless daughter."
Your wonderful daughter, Tift. As Ms. Joni said:
I come from open prairie
Given some wisdom and a lot of jive
Last night the ghosts of my old ideas
Reran on channel five
And it howled so spooky for its eagle soul
I nearly broke down and cried
But the split tongue spirit laughed at me
He says, "your serpent cannot be denied"
Our serpents love the whisky bars
They love the romance of the crime
But didn't I see a neon sign
Fester on your hotel blind?
And a country road come off the wall
And swoop down on the crowd at the bar
And put me at the top of your danger list
Just for being so much like you are
Chin up, girls. People like you were meant to save the world, in small and maybe sometimes in big ways. Don't forget that.
You and Jean are so wonderfully honest with each other and you are so honest with yourself. Please know that when you are ready to share more music this year that we are over the moon about the opportunity to hear you.
you're intensely brilliant! thank you for being an artist, a compassionate mother, a beautiful soul, and sharing this with all of us.
This was beautiful, thank you
You are Teaching her very good things...you can smile at that with the rest of us you are bringing along. ❤️
i am so glad my granddaughters are friends with feisty fearless hilarious precocious precious Jean! our girls make me hopeful about our future! love from Mamie
Unfortunately, at 80 I’m past those wonderful days like you had. I do speak to my children often and always send “air” hugs until we can have real ones. We will have our peaceful life interrupted in March when one granddaughter and a friend or two take a break from Univ KY Law school and come to visit to share a little SC hospitality. Your story made me realize again how important those HUGS are. I love your music and wish you and Jean a lifetime of precious hugs. Peace