The griefs are many
but find value in truth that:
Each breath
Each heartbeat
Each moment celebrating
Each of those
Is a courtship of death.
By embracing
THIS breath
THIS heartbeat
THIS moment of joy
Is a nod of recognition
To infinite mystery
Our age is known
By the buried bones
Of our bloodline
Reflected in chosen heritage
And the legacy of their love.
I used to write down affirmations I’d find
encouraging words for a desperate receptionist
I creep on the cusp between late middle age and becoming a senior
Inadvertently, I’ve added to my counsil a ticker-tape parade
A collection of curated constellations of firefly stars.
When I felt like I was broken, a commodity to trade,
I used to write down affirmations I’d find.
They called out to other spirits in the abyss
where depth of character is most typically defined
by diagnosis
by trauma
by abuse
by neglect
By unasked questions that create black holes in conversations.
But, I realize now, that the affirmations were crutches for me
a way to organize the parts (corruption tried to kill) into pretty piles
I know now, that the people I’ve met were not, by me, to be saved.
I had no tools of my own. I couldn’t and can’t fix someone else.
Despite the advertisements of affirmations I forced myself to witness,
I felt safe among the wounded and the broken
as if acknowledging their suffering, I could heal my own.
By hand and earth, I lit my beacon, my lantern, and held it aloft.
I’m not a map, but I can point you the way out of the inky depths
I used to write down affirmations, but now, I hold the moment
learn from it, accept it, savor the flavor, come what may
I feel an animosity towards time
It proceeds without caution,
barreling through individual’s lives
destruction and creation embodied
A shallow dagger tattooing memories
in a word.
I swallow in lusty gulps the mana
that ever and again poisons me
with child-like misplaced trust
of the perpetuation of consistency
bathed in my blissful ignorance
in a word.
It’s not enough to hold resentment
towards the testament of our days,
nor is it a hobby to be taken frivolously
It is neither good nor evil,
but yet it commonly holds the dichotomy
“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times”
Or so the story goes
in a word.
As we prepare to conclude our vacation, there is much that I need to chaw on for a while. Here are some highlights:
My Aunt Lizzy is one of the most beautiful women I know. Fresh from caring for her yard, she lives up to her shirt.
I couldn’t love this picture or I might explode.
This was our last hug before we left. What a treat to be with those hearts!
This naughty lady, bedecked in a pride collar and a satisfied expression had to be wrangled back into her home after taking advantage of friendly greetings and an open door. Ruby is a good girl.
My dad is on his front porch doing dad things.
My mom doing her thing.
Pegs and Jokers was introduced by my Aunt Helen and Uncle Lou a couple years back to my Rents. My mom and dad raved about it sharing how much fun they had. I got it for them for Christmas the same year. Tonight was the inaugural playing. My dad won.
And then…
8am comes a return to our regularly scheduled programming. This has been incredible. Lots of information to digest and process before I can sort through this beautiful, wonderful, farted up life. Bless this holy water..
On the back of the carriage seat we rode on through the Mackinac State Park, someone had placed an apt sticker. We knew what row we were in because of that.
We had 7 minutes to run over and look at this natural formation. The scientific reason for this phenomenon is erosion but the Indigenous story was much better. The beach down below was relatively quiet. It was quite a difference between the beaches in Portugal and Michigan’s. Our driver yelled Marco and we responded with Polo so we knew we had to get back to the tour.
I almost forgot this little beauty. At the butterfly conservatory, there was a terrarium out on the porch with a sign that read “Warning! Attack Turtle” only it was empty. We found out why when the guide at the Wings of Mackninac explained that she took this little tortise out with her when she went on lunchbreak so the newly found friend could enjoy a rich harvest of dandelions.
After we left the tour carriage, we walked down a steep hill. At the bottom of the hill, across from a large park, we found this church. The door was open. We agreed that going in as UU’s was rather obligatory. The hymns and readings were still up from Easter.
We found this directly across from the entrance. We took it seriously, quietly ushered ourselves in, sitting in a pew farthest from the door. A family was in there and the kids were making all sorts of uncorrected noise. After they left, we settled into the peace only to have two older women come in, sit at the back, and talk on their phones. We stayed until we’d looked up the hymns and readings.
Water dancing on the haint blue ceiling. Jen and I were lightly surprised to see such a cajun tradition carried on that far north.
For some reason, there are two signs for the Mackinac State Harbor. We got pictures of both.
I’m vibing with the wooden version of the sign, what about you?
This is one of my favorite pictures of Jen because I was making her laugh so hard she was literally doubled over. I’m not even sure what I was saying to her, but it sure did get her giggler.
A gigantic lilac bush that smelled utterly pure.
A bit of VanGogh brought to you by the Detroit Institute of Arts. It was just hanging around on the harbor path.
Beauty comes in so many subjective forms. These pretties were just hanging out in a field of grass we walked through.
I’m pointing to the seal and the letter M because…Mare.
The view from our room at the Cedar Hill Lodge.
This is the first stop we made with a bathroom conveniently nearby. Next post will show you more of the day. Jen said today wasn’t boring.
As we were leaving the drive in we needed to moose 🫎
As if that were enough! We also trained ourselves. Engine to caboose:
The day was dang near perfect for me. 9/10. Jen had a 7/10 day because we rode in the car, got food, and went swimming. I’m either easily pleased or I need to up my expectations! Jen said she was bored today.
Hokey Jalapeno! The night of the 30th was shredded by my inability to sleep because I was so danged excited, my client kept calling me then hanging up for two hours, and the torture of last minute pack it or you’ll forget it type of things. If you’re an ADHD person like me, last minute is the best time for us because it forces focus. It is for me anyway.
DAY ONE
However, 7 AM rolled around on the 31st leaving me no choice but to load up the suitcase I packed last minute with the cleanest clothes I could find that were weather appropriate. I pulled into Madam President’s driveway exactly at 8AM. We loaded up, said see ya, and drove north.
As we sat at the stoplight to turn north on I-75, Jen the Bestie captured our start into the wild.
The Welcome Center just over the Kentucky State Line. It appears there used to be a large golden horse on an empty base, but all that’s left is this little fella. We look like cartoon charicatures of ourselves in this one.
Obligatory awesome. That’s Jen.
This my version of keeping the baby quiet.I really appreciated the spirit of the day. The frivolity of youth in the hands of ridiculous wisdom of an aging Mare.
The skyline peeled off the steep grade like it was a curious city. It asked the question of me, “What could you give to contribute to the welfare of this city?”
Then it forced me to sit in a poorly designed parking lot that went from four lanes, down to three, down to two, down to one.
The first of the reductions, I dawdled a bit getting over safely into the next lane for the first one, but I quickly figured out that the earlier the better, but granted grace to a few people who just learned the same lesson. By the third one, My Abide was struggling. We were all on the same road, just trying not to be there. I granted grace to a swastikkkar and a white honda. The fourth and final reduction, I decided I just wanted to get where I’m going.
A short cab box truck decided to be a last minute Lucy. He started easing over into the lane I was using. I blew my horn continuing with my resolution. He had to slide behind me. I’m pretty sure an entire flock of that pretty middle bird were flying past my window like arrows that couldn’t find their mark.
Pure Michigan is their welcome sign.
I enjoyed the weather reports for the most common destinations found in Michigan proper. This picture was hard to capture. I’m just a bit shorter than Jen. I was on my tiptoes to her flat-footed. We were about to laugh so hard we were crying real tears of joy. We didn’t know.
My Mom, Linda, and my dad, Dave, are the testament to our arrival safely at their home. Andiamo’s Pizza is freaking top hat.
DAY TWO
This is my favorite shop when I visit my Rents. They even have doggo sundaes. Of course I got one for my boyfriend.
I like that this picture shows sweet and salty at the same time.
The Rents and my boyfriend awaiting their treats.
They all said Sis. Every last one of them. Today I’m William and Jen is Laura according to our coke options.
If you want to hear more about the story behind the title, let me know in the comments. I’ll tell you the story that gets the most requests in a 48 hour timeline. The possible topic titles are:
As dawn breaks tomorrow morning, I will be heading north with my bestie in tow. We’ll be staying with my “Rents”* for a couple of days, then heading up to St. Ignace, MI where we will catch a ferry over to Mackinac Island for the Lilac Festival. We’ve got a mighty trip planned, but, as with all things in my life, I’m just going to Abide.
I plan on taking you with me, so if there’s something that catches my fancy, be prepared to learn, experience, and share this incredible vacay (First in five years that wasn’t for work!)
*”Rents” is short for paRents
An Independent Nondiscriminatory Platform With No Religious, Political, Financial, or Social Affiliations - FOUNDED 2014
Life is a patchwork of moments — laughter, solitude, everyday joys, and quiet aches. Through scribbled stories, I explore travels both far and inward, from sunrise over unfamiliar streets to the comfort of home. This is life as I see it, captured in ink and memory. Stick around; let's wander together.
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Mare Martell 