“Vicarious Vacations”

           

       

          As summer draws to a close, I must take a moment to thank all of my friends for including me on their travels! Care-giving means we’re limited to infrequent, short weekend trips. Of course, taking a yearly vacation has never been in our budget. We manage a trip once every five to seven years, so being home all summer usually doesn’t bother me. However, you know how it is, once something slips out of your grasp you want it more. Now that I cannot easily pack my bags and take off for a week, I long to do it more than ever!

            This summer I’ve made two remote trips to Hawaii where I’ve strolled along the beaches and celebrated the purity of the ocean. Mountaintop views have left me breathless. After Hawaii, I ventured up the California coastline, stopping in various cities like San Francisco. Venturing northward, my secondhand traveling deposited me in Seattle where I walked through museums. A day trip took me to Mt. Rainier’s snowy peak. From there I wound down the mountain’s snaking roads, stopping for waterfalls and wildlife. My laptop adventures nudged me northward again to cruise the Alaskan coastline. Glaciers and virgin forests, moose and sled dog puppies, pristine vistas and heart-stopping sunsets graced my days. My faraway meandering included excursions into Canada, tours through major cities, “four-wheeling” in Colorado, rides at Disney World, and spending sprees in Las Vegas. I even climbed in the mountains of Peru!

            These vicarious vacations entertained me when my days stretched in tedious repetition. Maybe one day, I’ll get to finally get to amble down a Hawaiian beach. Maybe I’ll revisit San Francisco or Seattle and wind back up the road to Mt. Rainier. Perhaps I’ll make my first trip to Alaska and Canada, or even finally make it to Disney World or Vegas. For now, I’m forever grateful for the photographs and anecdotes shared by all my untethered friends.

A special Thank you for photography provided by: Brenda Allen, Lisa Davis, Espe Garcia, Nona Hall, Suzanne Bellah Kenoyer, Rebecca Robles, Traci Williams

Copyright 2011 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

“Pet Peeves”

            I decided to generate a list of the top ten behaviors that irk me—just because. I haven’t ordered my list in any way. I wonder, though, if any of you also share the same irritants. Feel free to add to my list with your comments!

I hate it when people:

 
greet me like I’m a long lost relative with effusive hugs when  I know it’s all for show

 

agree to be at a certain place at a certain time, show up late (or not at all) and then act annoyed because I’m upset 


swear (usually in front of other people) that they’ll gladly help, and then cancel when it’s too late for me to line up someone else 

preface their criticisms with, “It’s nothing personal, but . . .” and then blast me with a long list of very personal things they’d like me to change

 

dump their problems on me and never offer a reciprocal dumping of my woes 

expect me to be a good person at all times (loving, generous, thoughtful, forgiving) while they can treat me with nastiness 

deny me my right to speak my views because I’m too different from them; yet want me to listen without rebuttal to their diatribes   

preach to the choir (a favorite in educational circles). If you have a problem with something someone says/does, speak privately and directly to that person 

brag about their lives in an effort to exclude me from it 

know what is right; yet choose to do wrong 

Copyright 2011 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

“Daughter-In-Law”

Independent and intelligent  

she offers him unlimited love—no strings attached  

she has no hidden agenda  

she’s guileless as she wades into the water  

unaware of currents that will toss her aside or pull her under  

instinctively, she fights against the undertow  

taps into her endless energy as she swims toward the farthest shore  

drawing him with her in her wake  

offering him firmer footing on the opposite bank  

Resourceful and resolute  

she opens her heart to him—believes in him  

she focuses on their life together   

she’s naïve as they begin to build a bridge  

believing they’ll be met half way, linking and reconnecting  

but flash flooding upstream destroys their efforts  

ripping away the incomplete structure, tearing away their progress  

sapping her strength and snapping his ties  

they cling together on the distant shore  

Unwavering and understanding  

she stands with him—unites her life with his  

she trusts his constancy  

she’s accepting of his assurances of calmer water ahead  

hope persuades her to test the river again  

but rapids downstream leave her cut and bruised  

cultivating a cynical disbelief in ever reaching the other side  

withdrawing protectively back to the river’s edge, she stands   

turning her back to the other shore forever  

Copyright 2011 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

“The Corner of My Eye”

Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpse a laughing ghost  

she morphs into my fancies  

as she alters my reality  

I sigh her name and capture her hand—  

but she vanishes into the mist of who I was  

so I release her when she smiles    

recognizing myself reflected in her twinkling eyes      

Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpse a noble dragon  

she sparkles with childhood jewels  

as she flies into view  

I reach out to touch her, to skip my fingers across her scales  

but she slips out of reach  

as she beckons me to follow her flight  

back to simple pleasures   

Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpse a dancing fairy  

she glimmers with tomorrow’s blessings   

as she throws a kiss my way  

I long to turn my head and follow her as I boogie along  

but she’ll vanish from sight     

so I let her tease me and entrance me all day     

listening for her breath and the whisper of her wings  

Copyright 2011 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

“Art”

An abstract on pink

Large eyes and flaring hair

A mom

A dad

A son

Stick legs and square torsos

Proudly he displays the family

We applaud

We exhibit it to friends

We cherish it

Preserved within the folds of a treasured scrapbook

The child draws his world

Pen gripped by small fingers

A circle

A continuation

A union

Connected by squiggling lines

of trust, happiness, and love

We pause

We notice its significance

We cherish him

Preserved within the folds of embraces and smiles

Copyright 1989 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

“Ambition”

His ambition 

fascinated her—a reflection 

of her own drive  

for ultimate   

control in answering only to   

her own wishes. 

He drew her in 

with his passionate promises 

whispered in bed 

  

while her husband 

and children slept in innocence 

and ignorance. 

On moon filled nights 

she pledged her bright future to him, 

desperately 

clinging to him. 

Crumbling her disillusionment 

within her fist. 

Wagering all 

against a bid for happiness 

with a new life 

centered on him. 

She counted on his commitment 

to her—for them, 

to bind old wounds 

and invent a life together 

without heartache. 

Year drifts to year 

as her love grows, but his wavers 

and then retreats 

back to control 

of his own life and ambitions. 

He abandons 

her for himself. 

His selfishness now a mirror 

for her sorrow. 

Copyright 2011 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

“Heart of Stone”

The promise of forever died 

with a single call from you. 

Seems no matter how hard I tried, 

there was nothing I could do. 

Our clumsy steps fell out of sync 

before the dance had ended. 

I could only stare and blink 

when you felt so offended. 

I know my feelings grew too fast, 

that I scared you with my plans. 

You did not want our love to last, 

to get so quickly out of hand. 

I knew from the moment we met 

that you could destroy my heart. 

My determination was set— 

nothing would keep us apart. 

I counted on your affection 

being equal to my own. 

Now I know upon reflection 

that your heart is made of stone!

Copyright 2011 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman