my big sister | reverse threading

October 16, 2023
by kerrisherwood11 1 Comment

me and nancy drew. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

rainy weekends and antique shoppes go hand in hand. we love a slow browse through the stuffofthepast. curling up on the couch under a sherpa blanket with a good book is also an option. cleaning out the basement, dusting, vacuuming, mopping floors – eh, not so much.

i won’t forget how much time i spent as a kid with nancy drew. she and i sat on my orange and green shag rug floor with hot cocoa for long spans of time, figuring out her mysteries and strategizing next moves. i knew girlfriends who had every single volume, but i didn’t. i had some but i also had a library card and that was like having a ticket to anything.

sometime in elementary school i remember chomping at the bit to go to the library as soon as i got into my school. i used to volunteer there at lunchtime in later elementary years, but early on it was just a place of wonder.

i was the youngest of three and my sister and brother were eleven and nine years older than me – thus they were in prime teasing positions and never failed to take advantage of a moment, particularly my big brother. my sister was more in charge of doing my hair, torturing me with a hairbrush and a teasing comb, rubber bands and sponge curlers.

for some reason – sometime in those early elementary years – we were all together in the living room and they were talking about “natural-born americans”. one of them – and i can’t remember who – looked at me and told me that i wasn’t a natural-born american. i stared in horror, not understanding. they added, “you’re caesarean!” to which i burst into tears. i had no idea where on earth caesarea was and i didn’t want to admit it.

the next morning i made a beeline to the library before going to my classroom. i went directly to the globe and then to an atlas, looking desperately for caesarea.

later, back at home reviewing my day with my mom, i told her about what i had found and i said that as a caesarean i hoped they were still my family, since they were all american.

i don’t think my sister and brother got into much trouble but i’m pretty sure they got a talking-to for terrorizing me. it didn’t stick because it wasn’t long before my brother told me he had flushed my favorite slippers down the toilet. ahhhh. beloved siblings.

i’ve decided that nancy and i would have been good partners. two sleuths, not afraid to look for clues, researching and studying endless details, we could have ruled the third-grade world. nancy drew and kerri.

and all those volumes would have ended up in the antique shoppe too.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this MERELY-A-THOUGHT MONDAY

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October 14, 2022
by kerrisherwood11 1 Comment

alive. [k.s. friday]

marty was the first man i knew who was a breast cancer survivor. we also learned he was deathly allergic to shrimp – while we were all at joe’s crab shack devouring seafood. yiiikes. it feels like a zillion years ago, but it was a great community of folks – all who were dedicated to their craft and showing at large wholesale shows, lining up accounts with small and large shops across the country. it was before streaming was really The Thing and i was moving boxes and boxes and boxes – thousands – of cds with displays, all to be sold by real people in real places. the days were long – yamaha delivered in a piano and it was hours upon hours of playing, talking, writing purchase orders, selling cash and carry. in the evening we would all sometimes gather together somewhere, to share stories, to unwind. that one night, joe’s crab shack made us a little bit nervous. we traded seats around so marty wasn’t near any shrimp and wondered why we didn’t go to a steakhouse.

community makes a difference. in this latest lean time of community that is now particularly pronounced.

i watched as my dear big sister shared her breast cancer story on facebook. she is now, thankfully, on the other side, mostly healed from surgery and radiation, slogging slowly through a period of difficulty adjusting to a long-term hormone blocker. i know, without a doubt, that the people who sent her their love – even online – helped her. a community that rallies around is the village we all need, especially in desperate times.

heidi and i spent so very much time together. our mutual work was in the oncological field – performing at large and small cancer survivor and breast cancer awareness events. there are many posts in this blog about places we have been and i consider them to be moments i was honored to be a part of the supportive oncology community and a part of the story.

my grandmother-who-i-never-knew, my dad’s mom, died of metastatic breast cancer. my sweet momma had a double mastectomy at 93. my dad was a lung cancer survivor and my brother died because of lung cancer. this year my sister’s breast cancer diagnosis scared us.

in the middle of the night, when things are raw, i decided that a “sisu” bracelet was in order so i found an artist who designed and crafted it out of silver so that my sister could wear it and know i was with her, a part of her community, holding her close. i ordered one for me as well. because the middle of the night can be a scary time when you are thinking too much.

marty didn’t mention the whole shrimp-thing until we were already at joe’s. i guess he had decided to just go-with-it, to just live. he had already been through so much.

though i really wouldn’t change it – as i love my “sisu” bracelet – i wonder if it should just say “alive”.

*****

click here for a few other words about “i am alive”

I AM ALIVE ©️ 2005 kerri sherwood

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read DAVID’S thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

September 14, 2022
by kerrisherwood11 Leave a comment

my big sister and his big brother. [not-so-flawed wednesday]

and then, there were avocados.

the box arrived on the doorstep and, almost immediately, the text came. “delivered to front porch,” my sister texted, “hooray!!!”.

this was not a small box. this box had 17 avocados in it. and not 17 measly avocados you purchase at the local wisconsin grocery store. 17 that were grown lovingly on a tree in florida, some of which weigh over a pound. a pound!

beautiful golden-green on the inside, they arrived on a difficult day and were a welcome sight from my big sister. yes, ken’s words – “life’s vicissitudes” were wreaking a bit o’ havoc and my big sister’s avocados were a balm, like his big brother’s reassurances and caring and teasing on the phone later that week.

we don’t live close to either of those siblings. one lives in florida, with a beautiful home and pool in front of a lush swamp and lake and one lives in colorado in a lovely neighborhood with stunning peonies and a view of the front range. we don’t get to see them often. but they have a way of showing up. and, for that, we are grateful.

in this world today with broad radiuses of residence instead of the close-by of years past, it’s not easy to stay engaged with those you love. you wish to spend more time with them – the ordinary kind of moments – to see what life is like, to step a tiny bit into their shoes or at least have a window into their day-to-day. it’s hard to hear of other families and easy sunday dinners, errands with elderly parents, adventures with grown children. i’ve pined more than once to go browse at target with my daughter or have a pedicure with my sister or watch my niece hold and play with her toddler-boy or view a hallmark-extravaganza with my other niece or, even harder, coffeesit once again with my sweet momma. i’ve thought about all the time i spent at tennis courts or in baseball fields with my son and wished to again watch from the sidelines as he bats and runs and fields or lobs tennis balls over the net. i’ve thought about preparation for fall and pumpkins and apple pies and corn mazes. i’ve thought about the famous calzones made in my sister-in-law’s colorado kitchen, the sweet niece who would sip red wine with me and taking a walk around the lake with david’s momma. and then, the chance to see all the rest…our families, friends, newly-found cousins, wider concentric circles still connected but a little further out.

these years have taken a toll. though we have traveled a little bit, it’s not like pre-pandemic. and there is so much to miss when wisconsin is not where everyone is, so much yearning. i know Making Time for others is important and, with work and budget and covid restraints, we try the-best-we-can to do whatever-we-can. it doesn’t eliminate the missing.

today is a good day for guac.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this NOT-SO-FLAWED WEDNESDAY

April 6, 2020
by kerrisherwood11 1 Comment

“we believe in tomorrow.” [merely-a-thought monday]

as a person who is at severe risk, our dear 20 is isolating alone. it is unusual for us not to see him a couple or three times a week. our visits are now just audio by telephone or perhaps a facetime here or there. he has much to look forward to and, in preparing for all that, he is taking all precautions, sacrificing now for later. he texted us this message the other day. it was after a call the night before – a call during which we all shared the middle-of-the-night-wakefulness that is scary-as-all-get-out.

it was a text of wisdom. a text that conveyed a message that there is always a measure of blind belief necessary. a text i read more than once.

i know that my beloved big sister and i don’t agree on everything. but this morning she texted me that she had gone to the post office in the wee hours last night to send a small package to us. inside are four masks, to protect us, to protect others, to walk into tomorrow prepared. and i am grateful. we will wear these masks because we believe in tomorrow and because we want to protect all we can in getting there.

we stay home because we believe in tomorrow and because we want to protect all we can in getting there.

we social distance; we cross to the other side of the road on a getting-fresh-air-walk because we believe in tomorrow and because we want to protect all we can in getting there.

we wash our hands. we wash our groceries. we disinfect. we let mail, packages, newspapers sit untouched for days. we wipe everything down. we are conscious. we try to protect.

lettuce will grow if you plant it. if you prepare the soil. if you water it, if you protect it from deluge or too much arid sun.

so, like 20 suggested, we’ll bring out the wood boxes, prepare the soil and plant lettuce. and we’ll protect it. because we believe in tomorrow.

read DAVID’S thoughts this MERELY-A-THOUGHT MONDAY

July 19, 2018
by kerrisherwood11 Leave a comment

blue.blue.this world is blue. [d.r. thursday]

i could hear it in my song-memory-bank as i worked on this painting morsel. “blue, blue, my world is blue…blue is my world when i’m without you….” the song (love is blue – links to hear it below) was playing on a record player in my sister’s yellow-flower-power-hand-painted room and i, next-door in my saddle-brown-burlap-curtained-horse-postered room, was listening.

while i worked on the design i kept thinking about those words…ok, well, kind of those words…instead i was thinking about my new words – “blue, blue, THIS world is blue…blue is this world with so much to undo…” how i feel when we read the paper and the news apps and watch the news and ugh… i feel blue.

but i love the primary colors in this piece. the strength. the yellow of sun and hope and a new day and the red and orange of the fire of people’s passion working to make it a better world. part of the world is in darkness as it rotates, but the scribbles and the royal blue of cool cleansing water give hint to light. maybe this world will not be so blue…one of these days.