reverse threading

the path back is the path forward

Tag Archives: kerri sherwood


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wistful. [kerri’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

i cannot help it. memories swoosh around me constantly. and these days are no different. in fact, they deliver memories much like santa scooooching down the chimney – sans fanfare or warning. the memories arrive, sometimes with a kerplunk.

i suppose that it is simply a part of me to be wistful. and…the days are darker, the sun is shorter, it is colder and the holidays began to arrive in rapid succession.

i prepare myself for this – i know that time has flown on and that everything is different. yet…there is this piece of me that yearns to go back…to be overwhelmed with all that was going on when my children were little – the time of year that was fraught with choir and band rehearsals prepping, the time of year when it was hard to find alone-time to shop for surprises, the time of year when the children were counting down to school vacation, the time of year when end-of-year business records were lurking on lists-of-things-to-do, when you wrapped presents – that had been hidden in closets and the attic – around the the table in the wee hours, the time of year when you just really wanted to make cookies and fudge and sip hot cocoa around the fire with your children, reading christmas books, watching holiday movies. dreamy.

and then, there’s the further-back…the days in my growing-up neighborhood – along with our neighbors and friends outside caroling. luminaria, my dad making spiked eggnog and my mom fussing with cooking, the grandparents lingering on our old slipcovered couch, nieces and my nephew tiny and enchanted with it all.

it all seemed so innocent back then. and easy.

it’s not as easy now – as i watch families sort through all the gala preparations and the calendar of when who-visits-whom. there is much to do and, seemingly, not as much time to do it all. it makes me wish for a really big close-proximity-family with whom to share it all, all together, everyone from every side.

we prepare for our own christmas. i’ve been thinking and brainstorming and researching and googling and making lists for weeks now. we’ve been out browsing and shopping, we’ve had a moment or two indulging in a treat while out. we’ve encountered wonderful, joyous shopowners and salesclerks and a few not-so-wonderful nor joyous folks. we’ve tried hard to bring light to each person.

very happily, the boys will be coming and we are excited. but we will miss our girl and her husband. so many of us will have a facetime christmas and, though i am grateful for that technological ability, my heart – as always – yearns for in-person. so much bittersweet-ness. but…i am reminded by my own words earlier this week…“even if…enough”. it’s a good time for me to practice the enoughs.

i wonder – if it were possible – what it would be like to live back then and now simultaneously…kind of like walking from one room – the right now – into the next room – where my children were tiny ecstatic toddlers – into the next room – where i was a teenager surrounded by my island family – into the next room – where i was little and watched for rudolph’s red nose out my window.

i guess the gift of not being able to do that is the same as the hard part of not being able to do that – it is the wistfulness of it all. i guess wistful IS the gift. that thing that reminds you – just like in the movie about time to really, really live the day. “I just try to live every day as if I’ve deliberately come back to this one day, to enjoy it, as if it was the full final day of my extraordinary, ordinary life.”

*****

…and, by the way…just in case you misunderstood – in this climate rife with words like great and back – misused and twisted…as you are reading the words “go back in time”…i want to be perfectly clear…even in a post about these holidays…it’ s not THAT kind of going back. this is a post about love and respect for each other. it’s a post about time spent together and mutual generosity of spirit. it’s a post about decency. goodness. it’s a post about unity. together. it’s not that OTHER kind of going back. because we aren’t. going back.

*****

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the infinite infinite. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

somewhere – in the infinite infinite – i suppose that my sweet momma and poppo might be with my big brother, nibbling on crumbcake and coffee ice cream. maybe they are having a chat about christmas eve norwegian fish pudding and rum cake. or maybe about burning your fingertips making krumkake. maybe they are reminiscing about singing carols in the living room – gathered around the organ or the piano, my brother with his guitar, my uncle with his beautiful tenor.

i suppose that the party might be bigger…with their baby daughter i never met, with my grandparents, with their siblings, with friends they treasured. they may pop open the martini & rossi asti or blend some eggnog, assuming there is electricity. maybe they are swinging on stars and peering through the clouds at us here; maybe they are missing us.

in the way that things are in this place right now, i am glad that my sweetest mom and dad are not physical witnesses to what is happening, for their hearts would be broken by the ugliness of these times. i am grateful – in an odd way – that they do not have to experience what will be in the next for this country, for our world. even with everything they saw and endured in their lives – which is plenty considering they were born in 1921 and 1920 – i know that what’s happening and what’s coming would challenge and disappoint their beliefs and values to the core.

and so, in the meanwhile – between now and the infinite infinite – i will miss them. the axis has never returned to balance since they’ve been gone and this time of year brings that home even more.

i do believe, though, that if my momma – ever the letterwriter – could write in the sky – out there by the moon – she would. she’d likely draw words with the help of clouds and contrails. and she’d spell out something like, “daddy says ‘hello brat!‘” and “don’t forget to live life, my sweet potato!”.

when i look up – or inside – i can hear them both.

merry christmas mom and dad.

*****

bonus track (god be with you till we meet again) © 1996 kerri sherwood

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stripes. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

the reeds on our trails in the winter – tall and willowy, reaching for the sky in a color that looks like leftover sun you saved in a jar. the cattails are massive, even the ones that have lost tails…all dwarfing us. tall stripes in the marsh cutting perpendicular into the horizon, they are exceptionally beautiful.

i’m not a stripe-wearer. with the exception of one hooded baja pullover, i’m pretty sure i own zero clothing items with stripes. this has not always been true.

i distinctly remember a pair of multi-colored striped bell bottoms i really loved – way back in junior high. i remember my candystriper uniform – candycane stripes for volunteering in the hospital. oh… and those ever-present red and white striped terrycloth footed dr. denton pajamas. i remember the stripes on my v-neck sweater – the one that everyone had back in the day – navy and maroon v-stripes on a white cable pullover. i distinctly remember one other sweater – a turtleneck – a favorite – that had stripes. i wore it tucked into my jeans way back in high school. i remember stripes i wore when i was a volunteer “arrestee” for the american cancer society’s jail ‘n bail. but i can’t remember many other stri-ped (two syllables as they say) things that have made it into either my closet or my dresser.

and – in more information than you ever needed or wanted, some further thoughts on stripes:

as i sit here and look around i am struck by the horizontal stripes that surround me. the obvious wood floors – though these are vertical as well (mostly) depending on where in the room you are standing. the miniblinds on all our windows. the louvered closet doors, the dresser drawers, the many tiny drawers in the wooden armoire, the stacked (not standing) books in the glass-front chimney cabinet. many patterns – all horizontal.

if, however, i were to wear stripes, they would have to be vertical. horizontal and baby-borne hips don’t go well together. (at least in my opinion as it relates to me). i don’t know if this helps to explain my love of beadboard or my love of big old doors. both vertical. there must be a theory of explanation in there somewhere.

i think i also have a thing about wearing stripes – i feel like if i am going to wear them, they need to stay parallel to the ground – 180 degrees straight – even stripes, not all wonky and helter-skelter…like part of the stripe tucked in and part untucked and on some skewed sort of angle, which bugs me to an unusual degree of being bugged. horizontal stripes have a lot of room for error. and stripes…seriously…well, they should be neat – tidy stripes. it just feels to me that stripes are like that. they demand precision. i try to veer away from such strict parameters.

maybe that is why i wear solid colors mostly. there is less worry about conforming to specific stripe/plaid/print rules, real or imagined.

it is good that i am not a santa’s elf. i am way beyond wishing to wear red and white horizontal-striped tights.

*****

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a season of light. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

it did my heart good to wander slowly through milaegers garden center. like the line “it’s much more than a box” from the department store gift-wrapping scene in love actually, milaegers is much more than a garden center. and day before yesterday it was a holiday wonderland.

it was just what i needed. we strolled slowly, each of us raying out to what invited our eye. everything was decorated and the displays were glowing. we were searching for just the right thing and lingered around each tree – perfectly laden with ornaments and gleaming tchotchkes.

we finished our holiday shopping for the day and happily used a gift card we had held onto for well over a year – a local bistro where we loved sitting at the bar sipping a glass of wine and sharing a most-delicious burger. it was truly a day that put spirit into our spirits.

last night we sat in our living room under a furry white throw and looked around at our decorations, satisfied that we not only paid homage to a festive season but were true to our own sensibilities, a mashup of organic and glimmer. there is a shimmery incandescence in there we can both feel – particularly full of grace at a time of seasonal and out-in-the-world darkness.

the tiny trees we’ve collected are scattered about, both happy-lit and simply green. even the very plainest of these have their place.

the big branch in our living room – from the old tree out front – has now stood there for four holiday seasons. though it is wrapped in year-round white lights, each christmastime we have added something. two years ago it was silver bulbs. last year it was vintage shiny brites of my mom and dad’s. this year we added crystal prism ornaments. there is a lone metal star. it is – to us – really beautiful.

eileen’s tree – “e.e.” as it will always be known – has the place of honor, standing sweetly in the doorway from the living room to the dining room. a nod to the traditional, it has become, now, one of our own traditions. it all feels peaceful, which is our intention.

in the day the crystals on the branches in the living room throw beams of sunlight across the floor. with the room lights off, the happy lights of the trees on, the crystals on the branches in the living room glitter, anticipating the season of the return of light.

it is not milaegers but it is home and, in a world of frenetic and fraught, this luminous place is truly our sanctuary.

*****

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voice. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

quotes from the pointed video above:

“…our duty to be there for others…”

“…learn critical thinking…to empower you…”

“…the power of your voice…”

it is the imperative of an artist, the obligation of humankind.

it is showing up, speaking up, speaking out.

it is not in keeping the peace but in creating peace and protecting the rights of all in a peaceful world.

and sometimes that is risky.

i can hear it – woke. i can hear it – liberal. i can hear it – snowflake. i can hear it – asshole. nothing i haven’t heard before. so call me what you will.

i can feel it – the risk. i can feel it – the pushback. i can feel it – the stern you-stay-in-line-don’t-you-make-waves. i can feel it – the reactionary disagreement sans any discussion. i can feel it – the write-off.

but this one life we each get – this one very precious and extraordinary life – the one during which we all breathe in and out pretty much the same way – the one where you can live authentically (and flawed) or falsely (and flawed) – this life is to live, to not fear – this life demands our voices.

and these words: surround yourself with people who fight for you even in rooms you aren’t in…

i don’t want to hesitate to be that person. to take it on – the slight, the wrongdoing, the injustice. i don’t want to be silent again because i won’t upset you that way. i don’t want to be voiceless yet again in the face of yet another betrayal.

i wish to relinquish my life-long peacekeeper role.

these here are those days.

instead, i want to speak up for me. i want to speak up for people – for peoples – i don’t even know. speak up for justice, for equality, for kindness.

to speak against cruelty and division. to have no allegiance to bigotry, racism, misogyny, xenophobia, homophobia. to speak to truth, question propaganda. to reject being complicit. to push back against the ugliest ugly even if it makes me unpopular.

to steel myself away from keeping the peace.

to not stay quiet.

to be full of voice.

to stand up.

in all the rooms.

*****

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and justice… [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

i pledge allegiance to the flag of the united states of america. and to the republic for which it stands – one nation, under god, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all. (pledge of allegiance)

…and justice for all…

uh-huh. yup. fer sure.

(snarky – though truthful – alert for what follows…and…if you are running low on snark tolerance, I understand. these times are difficult and it is overwhelming to be surrounded by so much hypocrisy, so much that is truly unthinkable. i am merely one more voice out here, expressing outrage, hoping against hope that the voterswhovotedforthis might be capable of hearing and – more importantly, though clearly belated – of listening. and that the voterswhovotedagainstthis might feel less alone in their own outrage.)

in case you hadn’t already read this – in numerous other posts i have written – i was raped. i am a survivor. i have been a survivor for over four decades. i have carried it with me throughout my adult life. though i spent most of that time in silence, it has affected me physically and emotionally, psychologically, professionally, and financially. it has touched every corner of my life. it is both profound and a profound change agent in one’s life.

my rapist was a predator who expertly groomed and preyed on young women, older women, underage women, virgins, innocent targets. my rapist also “successfully” raped other women. my rapist was not charged. my rapist walks in the world – free – even today.

and – clearly – my rapist could be president.

because – fact of the matter is – here we are…poised to have an adjudicated rapist as the president – a man also convicted of 34 felonies among numerous other indictments and allegations, but golly gee, why would we even mention or consider those petty little details?

and so, i have some questions for you, ye who have voted for this, er, person.

where is the justice?

did you know when you voted? did you not care when you voted?

did it feel ok to vote in a rapist, a convicted felon?

is this the person you wish your father, your husband, your son, your grandson, your brother look up to, emulate? is this the person you wish your mother, your wife, your daughter, your granddaughter, your sister look up to?

would you leave your daughter alone with him? your granddaughter? your mom? your sister? your auntie, your niece? would you leave your tiny child alone with him? would you trust him to keep his hands to himself and his pants zipped?

what is the deal?

or – and this possibility sickens me beyond the disgust i am already feeling – did you have some sort of sadistic vicarious fantasy voting him in – a man laden with cruelty, revenge, evil intentions – some arsonist lurking in you wishing to watch the fire?

i saw this meme:

“we could have shown our daughters that they could do anything.

instead, we showed our sons that they can rape, cheat, and lie and still become the most powerful man in the country.”

if you don’t find that inordinately disturbing as a parent (you know, the whole i want the best for my child; i want to protect my child thing), as a woman (you know, the women supporting women’s rights thing), as a human being (you know, the whole moral compass thing) – if that bit of injustice doesn’t get your goat – if the utter lack of and-justice-for-all doesn’t take your liberty-breath away – i don’t know what will.

just sayin’.

warned you it was snarky.

and truthful.

*****

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what is real. [kerri’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

i told him the other day I wasn’t sure if i had anything left to say. in the lostness following this horrific election, i still feel all the things i have already written about – truly gutted.

i would imagine that there are many of ‘me’ out there. heart-broken, infuriated, exhausted, confused, feeling betrayed.

and in that wanderland of grief sit the questions of “what is real?” and “who is real?”. they nag at me – wherever i am. we escaped to the trail and they followed me – sitting heavy on my heart, ponderous.

real (adjective): 1. actually existing as a thing or occurring in fact: not imagined or supposed. 2. (of a substance or thing) not imitation or artificial; genuine.

and

real: behaving or presented in a way that feels true, honest, or familiar and without pretension or affectation.

and so i look at life now and think about what is real and who is real.

the “real” i knew would have stood by me, by my family, by values i assumed we shared, by the lifting up of humanity.

the “real” i knew would have been morally aghast by the cruel, devastating intentions of the new maga-regime.

the “real” i knew would have pushed back against all of it – leading with goodness and kindness.

but i guess the “real” you wanted me – and everyone else – to see wasn’t really real. and i will now admit, you fooled me.

i suppose – like many others will – that i could pretend it doesn’t matter. i could act like it doesn’t matter. i could interact like it doesn’t matter. i could just go on as if it doesn’t matter. but it does. it matters. it’s real.

mary oliver wrote, “you can fool a lot of yourself, but you can’t fool the soul.”

so even as i fight the internal fight – trying – irrationally – to hold onto what or who is really not real – my soul knows.

and, like many of you trying to process this soul-knowing, i am deeply sad.

*****

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there is. i will. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

it was this morning – while i was nibbling on gluten-free cinnamon toast. it was while i was dishing out dogga’s dinner. it was while we sat at the kitchen table, darkness quickly falling outside. it was while i was sending a picture-of-the-day to my children, while i was texting with my dear friend. it was while i listened to george winston’s thanksgiving. it was on the trail. it was at the matinee of the movie here. it was leaving the theatre, tears in our eyes, grateful it was still a little light out.

it is right now. and this is where we are.

there are boundaries to be drawn, plans to be made, worries to be worried, griefs to be grieved.

there is shock and outrage. there is absolute horror.

there is no humor in what will come – and there is disgust at those who laugh with the sadistic glee of getting their way.

there is knowing and not-knowing. there is lostness.

there is uncertainty in the insanity of these moments.

but it is right now. and this is where we are. still.

so i will take stock wherever i find goodness, wherever i find community, wherever i find even a bit of joy, wherever i find love.

and i will dance in the kitchen, make homemade tomato soup, grow parsley in the winter. i will hold tighter to his hand and hug on our dogga. i will be frugal and i will be frivolous.

and i will sit on the wire with the other birds, watching the sky turn from night to day and night again. grateful for the tiniest things – that sky, the birds who love me and who i love, the wire and the still of still being here.

*****

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the emboldened. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

if i were to write a children’s book about clouds, this cloud would have an arrogant name – something aggressive, threatening. this is the cloud that covers the sun, dark, assailing. this cloud would be the cloud that rides the bumper of the others, that drives on the shoulder, that flips you off as it passes. it would be the screaming banshee of clouds with its hulk of stone cold water droplets. it is the cloud that makes a mockery of the other clouds, dominating their practiced and important jobs of precipitation, reflection, insulation. it is ominous and likely indicative of a storm coming. this cloud is emboldened.

we are in the earliest days of fallout from the election. the emboldened are obvious. they are the arrogant ones, the aggressive, threatening ones. they are dark; they are assailing. they are the ones riding your bumper, driving on the shoulder, flipping you off. they are screaming banshees of propaganda, hulking masses of disturbingly evil what-we-are-going-to-do-to-this-country-what-we-are-going-to-do-to-people. they are mocking and they are stone cold, gleefully ominous, dominating, militant. there is a storm coming.

the animals in the forest watch this cloud intently, intuitively knowing that their forest could be destroyed in its wake.

we watch the emboldened insanity intently, intuitively knowing that that our country could be destroyed in its wake.

the wildlife shudders.

and so do we.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

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tattered. [kerri’s blog on flawed wednesday]

tattered.

i realize i feel tattered. one moment the figurative holes in my heart will still allow me to continue on – unencumbered by the accompanying pain. the next moment those same holes are debilitating. i feel lost and like a balloon slowly losing air, like it is all surreal.

she said, “remember…you have a limited vision. you do not see the good that is also happening…“. that which is separate from the devastating. that which is like the sliver of light that plays on the floor when you crack the door open.

no…it is hard to see the good when the horrible is so much bigger, when hideous is shooting holes in your heart.

on our way to walk in the woods – to have some semblance of peaceful air – we passed by many houses with the flag flying yesterday. one flag, in particular, was frayed and shabby.

it made me think about the american flag, its symbolism of freedom, pride, respect. i researched a bit further. “red symbolizes bravery and valor, white symbolizes purity and innocence, blue represents vigilance, perseverance, justice.” (pbs.org & usa.gov)

freedom. pride. respect. bravery. valor. purity. innocence. vigilance. perseverance. justice.

our flag – an emblem of our values as a nation. this election has made a farce of those values, of that very flag.

and when that flag is tattered – as it surely is right now: “the flag, when it is in such condition that it is no longer a fitting emblem for display, should be destroyed in a dignified way…” (u.s. flag code)

no longer a fitting emblem.

that the majority of flag-flying voters have chosen to destroy all those values in the unparalleled cruel and undignified manner that is looming in this country is unconscionable.

it’s not good enough for a tattered flag.

it’s definitely not good enough for this tattered country.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this FLAWED WEDNESDAY

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