Saturday, December 11, 2010

THE ACCORDION EFFECT

THE ACCORDION EFFECT

Yup! The accordion, as in needing to open wide to take in the energy and squeeze it to get the music. It’s been a long time since I blogged. Blame the openings and closings. There’s a lot of squeezing together going on: time past becomes time present as I work on my memoirs, which will probably be of interest to no one but my family and me. I’m up to page 176 and not even divorced yet. In fact, the women’s movement hasn’t yet begun, or the bomb scares of the 60s. Well, that’s not quite true, because the way I’m writing it, some events from past and present do merge, accordion fashion.

Right now I’m living so many Christmas seasons all at once, from the days of huge family smorgasbords around Uncle Emil’s massive table to this year’s anticipation of Christmas Eve dinner at our favorite restaurant in Williamsburg, VA. From the days of anticipating visits from Santa Claus to the days of looking forward to his visits to my children to today’s Toys for Tots. Each year comes around faster, and each Christmas Eve I say the same thing (I guess I get boring): “I can’t believe I’ve been blessed with so many happy, healthy celebrations with family.”

The family, of course, gets smaller and smaller. I was basically the youngest of the youngest, so there aren’t many of us left. Most recently I’ve been spending time with the DVD of my trip to Sweden and Denmark with my parents in 1955. My son-in-law began the process by scanning my 35mm slides and, together with my memory and web searches, putting them in order and labeling them. Doug has coordinated them as much as possible with my reading of my mother’s diary from that trip. Now that’s what I mean about the accordion. It’s like hearing my mother speak at a joyful time in her life. And me? Well, I was a lot younger … Some things strike me especially, beginning with the end of our trip on the SS Kungsholm when we went off course into a hurricane in the North Atlantic to rescue nine men off a sinking Greek freighter. Truly newsworthy, we thought, until we came home to the devastation wrought to our town (fortunately not to our home.)

Items of note: Friends and family saw us off with a party in my parent’s stateroom before hearing the equivalent of “All ashore that’s going ashore.” No scanners. Remember? Not so long ago, actually. One of my father’s wealthy friends gave him a bon voyage gift of $10.00 to spend any way he’d like in the dining room! My mother made note of a hospital in Sweden where the nurses occupied housing in the building to the left of the hospital and the doctors were to the right. Remember that division of the sexes? But Skansen looked pretty much the same as it did in 1976 when I went with Doug and Lisa, and even today. And Tivoli in Copenhagen? The photos could have been taken yesterday.

That’s what I mean. I’m living in the past and the present at the same time, and pretty much surviving it. I’d much rather be the age I am now. I don’t want to go through all that again. Still, I wouldn’t mind having that body. Why that body? Well, it was a lot more agile, though truth be told I’ve always mistrusted my own feet when it comes to heights. Even in 1976 I made my kids climb down the hill rather than ride the steep down-escalator from Skansen. During Thanksgiving week in Italy, poor Doug had to put up with my panic going down the winding hill from our timeshare to the parking lot below – daily. It was worth it, though, at least to me. Food, food, food, fabulous food. Even our most favorite Italian restaurant can’t live up to what we had there. Wine, too. A friend of mine challenged me to try every wine in Italy. I did give it a try.

We spent a day in Rome, looking at the outside of the Roman ruins. OK. I’ve seen one Roman ruin I’ve seen them all. The Vatican? We walked right in. November is the time to visit. No crowds . Michelangelo’s Pieta, the Sistine Chapel, a chance to pray for a special friend in Connecticut. All good – even moving, but I loved the Duomo in Arvieto more. Breathtaking. I confess that I prefer the small towns: Spoleto and Assisi as well. I did get my wish to see Pompeii – a bit of that accordion effect as I thought of the wealthy folks living in fabulous beauty and luxury before they left their slaves behind to die in the ash. I’ve promised myself I’ll google it. I understand they escaped into slavery in Egypt.

Today I’m snowed in, missing a fun Holiday concert and celebration, but I’m counting on tomorrow to be better for the Minnetonka Choral Society Concert and dinner afterward.

Monday I’ll be doing what I still keep working at – with minimal success – trying to sell my books. I’ll spend the day on Monday at the LinkedIn holiday celebration with my books spread out on table #8.

I think of the friends who moved on to the next phase of the journey during the past year with deepest sympathy for their families feeling the emptiness. I hope memories act a bit like a musical accordion.

I wish happy holidays for all of you who had the patience to read this through. One thing about the accordion effect: I know that twenty years from now we’ll have a full understanding of what’s growing in the midst of today’s turmoil, and I count on being around to “get” it.

2 comments:

Nancy Simpson said...

Mona, Holiday wishes to you. It is good to hear from you again. It's been so long your blog went off my site. I'm happy to hear you are still writing. My book was published - LIVING ABOVE THE FROST LINE New and Selected Poems covering 32 years of my poetry career. Another book I edited and arranged was published also in 2010 - ECHOES ACROSS THE BLUE RIDGE. The parties are over. Both are on Amazon.com and elsewhere.

I enjoyed your post.

www.nancysimpson.blogspot.com

Mona Gustafson Affinito, Ph.D. said...

You are so fabulous! Congratulations.
And I hope you are well. May the new year be even better for you.