Sue, it's amazing to hear from you, and of course I remember you and your lovely girls. I'm glad you're living a more peaceful life. Me, too. Back in the day, someone introduced me to water-based vegetable soup and I lived on the stuff. I was a little obsessed with counting calories, but it was a nutritious investment of time, anyway. Thanks for saying hello, and for the kind words.
What a world you grew up in, Laury! I relate to so much of it -though my family had no celebrity, my mama was a lot like yours in her care of us. She sewed all our clothing and I have similar photos - I also have three sisters. What birth order are you?
Laury, what a lovely post! Your musings on time as a cottonwood seed were so beautiful and poignant. And you know I love all the old photos and reminiscences you include from your extraordinary family life. My own mother grew up in a family of five sisters, so many of your stories remind me of my mother and aunties. Such a gift, these memories you are sharing!
Wow, I thought my situation was so unique! Five sisters. I know that you have an appreciation for nostalgia! And about those cottonwood seeds, I have to say it's been a recurring and otherworldly experience as they've become a messenger of sorts for me to pause and feel. I sure appreciate those messenger moments.
Five sisters, yes, but not color-coded like in your family. Love the picture of all the different colored dresses. I did remember you posting about cottonwoods before. I do love a recurring theme too!
Thank you, Prajna, for taking the time to look and for all of this. And yes, a colorful family! And four sisters! Wow. The feminine runs strong in your clan which doesn't surprise me of course. I appreciate you.
I love this. And of course, yes. Christmas, family, childhood dreams. They link us together wherever we are, at least in their potentiality. Thank you for this, and thank you for your connection and comments. I have to ask, where were your Christmases, “a long way from Los Angeles and celebrity?”
First of all, thank you so much. I am recovered and well; your concern has been comforting, and kind. And you're in the "one of four club." That's wild! Are you still able to spend time together?
Beautiful, sister…I attended the memorial service for the mother of one of my daughter, Casey’s, lifelong friends this weekend, and it brought me face-to-face with memories of Mommy, her life and her presence in ours, and the innumerable memories of growing up at 904 N. Beverly Dr.
The service I attended also allowed me to watch another mother-daughter relationship being transformed from purely tangible and real in 3D, to the intangible and spiritual realm of memories, sensations from another plane where the essence of the mother still speaks to the daughter in ways that are irrefutably “her”, but different. It creates a different level of communication—a smell of her perfume, a distinct dream that revives her in the mind of her daughter, an unmistakable sense that she is there, reaching out to her daughter through a hummingbird that visits the daughter’s garden or a deer that approaches her fearlessly outside her home. That mysterious power to physically leave but still be present to us is like those fluffs of cottonwood, riding the air currents. It reminds us that our energy and our essence change, but they never cease to exist. I think about the movie, “Forrest Gump”, with the feather floating on the wind, as Forrest can deeply feel his Jenny with him, watching their son board the school bus.
Those threads that intertwined us together in our own life's tapestry still remain, still connect us, though you aren't physically seeing the full picture in front of you—you're experiencing just one thread, one color, one texture and thickness…one wisp.
The service I attended yesterday was bittersweet, as any acknowledgement of the loss of one loved so intensely is; but it was a celebration of a life well-lived, a personality that lifted, served, and taught others, and spread joy and love, even when her own health began to diminish. It isn’t lost on me, either, that the daughter honoring her mother yesterday as you were preparing to publish this story, and speaking of her with gratitude, appreciation and love, was named Laura…
You were my neighbor in the duplexes in KC. 1992, I think. You made this amazing "slimming soup" I baked bread that you slathered with butter, still steaming. My daughters, Michelle, Nicole & Yvonne babysat your darlings. You were more than good to me. I left KC & my abusive spousal unit in 1993. Michelle will be 48 next month. I'm remarried to a ventriloquist, 22 years!.A godly man, who makes me laugh. I cherish what you and Cherry taught me, and the book I pulled off a library shelf at 14 by your Dad, "Twixt Twelve and Twenty."
Sue, it's amazing to hear from you, and of course I remember you and your lovely girls. I'm glad you're living a more peaceful life. Me, too. Back in the day, someone introduced me to water-based vegetable soup and I lived on the stuff. I was a little obsessed with counting calories, but it was a nutritious investment of time, anyway. Thanks for saying hello, and for the kind words.
Everybody always call me Suzie.
What a world you grew up in, Laury! I relate to so much of it -though my family had no celebrity, my mama was a lot like yours in her care of us. She sewed all our clothing and I have similar photos - I also have three sisters. What birth order are you?
Thank you Kelly. I've related to much of what you have shared about your childhood as well, but yes, different. I'm the 4th! You?
3rd and middle - two older two younger (4 girls & a boy)
Your brother you wrote about was your only one. Whew. Hey, thanks for reading What we see…🙏
❤️🔥
Laury, what a lovely post! Your musings on time as a cottonwood seed were so beautiful and poignant. And you know I love all the old photos and reminiscences you include from your extraordinary family life. My own mother grew up in a family of five sisters, so many of your stories remind me of my mother and aunties. Such a gift, these memories you are sharing!
Wow, I thought my situation was so unique! Five sisters. I know that you have an appreciation for nostalgia! And about those cottonwood seeds, I have to say it's been a recurring and otherworldly experience as they've become a messenger of sorts for me to pause and feel. I sure appreciate those messenger moments.
Five sisters, yes, but not color-coded like in your family. Love the picture of all the different colored dresses. I did remember you posting about cottonwoods before. I do love a recurring theme too!
Haha. Just to be clear, we didn't walk around in those costumes, we just performed in them. Which isn't much better!
A beautiful flow of memories, Laury. A gorgeous tribute to your mom what a colorful family. I have four sisters two older and three younger.
The photos are great. I love the outfits.
🌹
Thank you, Prajna, for taking the time to look and for all of this. And yes, a colorful family! And four sisters! Wow. The feminine runs strong in your clan which doesn't surprise me of course. I appreciate you.
I loved "airborne, cottony dreams of abundance"- exactly how I remember my childhood Christmases, a long way from Los Angeles and celebrity.
I love this. And of course, yes. Christmas, family, childhood dreams. They link us together wherever we are, at least in their potentiality. Thank you for this, and thank you for your connection and comments. I have to ask, where were your Christmases, “a long way from Los Angeles and celebrity?”
Glasgow, Scotland or Sussex, England, but mostly the former. Your health is still in my prayers.
I'm also one of of four sisters, though, one named Deborah.
First of all, thank you so much. I am recovered and well; your concern has been comforting, and kind. And you're in the "one of four club." That's wild! Are you still able to spend time together?
Beautiful memories. What a tribute to your mama. Xx
Hello Lisa!! And thanks🙏
"Our energy and our essence change, but they never cease to exist." Exactly. This is all so beautifully said Cherry.
(If anyone is wondering, Cherry''s the little girl in the picture who's being sent to by our father. I love that picture so much.)
Beautiful, sister…I attended the memorial service for the mother of one of my daughter, Casey’s, lifelong friends this weekend, and it brought me face-to-face with memories of Mommy, her life and her presence in ours, and the innumerable memories of growing up at 904 N. Beverly Dr.
The service I attended also allowed me to watch another mother-daughter relationship being transformed from purely tangible and real in 3D, to the intangible and spiritual realm of memories, sensations from another plane where the essence of the mother still speaks to the daughter in ways that are irrefutably “her”, but different. It creates a different level of communication—a smell of her perfume, a distinct dream that revives her in the mind of her daughter, an unmistakable sense that she is there, reaching out to her daughter through a hummingbird that visits the daughter’s garden or a deer that approaches her fearlessly outside her home. That mysterious power to physically leave but still be present to us is like those fluffs of cottonwood, riding the air currents. It reminds us that our energy and our essence change, but they never cease to exist. I think about the movie, “Forrest Gump”, with the feather floating on the wind, as Forrest can deeply feel his Jenny with him, watching their son board the school bus.
Those threads that intertwined us together in our own life's tapestry still remain, still connect us, though you aren't physically seeing the full picture in front of you—you're experiencing just one thread, one color, one texture and thickness…one wisp.
The service I attended yesterday was bittersweet, as any acknowledgement of the loss of one loved so intensely is; but it was a celebration of a life well-lived, a personality that lifted, served, and taught others, and spread joy and love, even when her own health began to diminish. It isn’t lost on me, either, that the daughter honoring her mother yesterday as you were preparing to publish this story, and speaking of her with gratitude, appreciation and love, was named Laura…
That's very good news indeed! Yes, we are- in fact, three of us live within two miles of one another, although our eldest is in Suffolk now.
You were my neighbor in the duplexes in KC. 1992, I think. You made this amazing "slimming soup" I baked bread that you slathered with butter, still steaming. My daughters, Michelle, Nicole & Yvonne babysat your darlings. You were more than good to me. I left KC & my abusive spousal unit in 1993. Michelle will be 48 next month. I'm remarried to a ventriloquist, 22 years!.A godly man, who makes me laugh. I cherish what you and Cherry taught me, and the book I pulled off a library shelf at 14 by your Dad, "Twixt Twelve and Twenty."