My husband and I started watching the series Daisy Jones and The Six for our after-dinner entertainment. I’d heard some good things about the show; it has been nominated for awards, and I wanted to give it a try. I love movies, television (and books!) that focus on the characters versus the action. I knew the series was set in the 1970s at the time when I was a teenager and is loosely based on the band Fleetwood Mac, a favorite.
Wow. I love everything about it—the acting, music, fashion, and decor that transports me back in time. The familiar music that serves as the show’s backdrop reminds me of what I was doing at the time I first heard the tune. My feet are tapping along with each song.
I remember when I was a young teenager and considered writing song lyrics. I wrote poetry on Precious Moment’s stationery and tacked my most profound, previously undisclosed thoughts on my bedroom bulletin board. I mistakenly believed that my closest friends would be the only ones to see my ramblings. I didn’t consider that my parents or brothers entered my room when I wasn’t home.
At the time, I dreamed of living in Nashville, New York, Hollywood, or, honestly, anywhere but where I was. At fifteen, I couldn’t wait to move away and start my life as I thought it should be, without restrictions. Back then, all I wanted was for time and all the moments to speed up and send me to my adult future.
Yet, I wasn’t as ambitious, determined, talented, or nearly as able to support myself as Daisy was. I could never sneak out of our house without getting caught. I could never do anything without getting caught, even if I were barely involved in the incident.
Also, our town was much too small for concerts or getting into major mischief without it being known by all the next day. My father’s business was less than two blocks from the high school, the home of all gossip, real or imagined. The local Elks Club was the fanciest restaurant and hangout for adults, though I have to admit they made a good steak. You get the idea.
Quickly reading Daisy Jones’ plot description will tell you how the story ends; still, I put that information in the back of my mind and let myself be taken along for the ride as each scene unfolds. It is my kind of television. Watching the screen, I’m laser-focused on what will happen next.
I am aware it is a limited series, so when it is over, it’s over – no second season. We are already on the seventh show of ten, and I could easily watch the last three episodes in one sitting.
But I don’t want to do that. I want to spread it out. I want to slow down the ending. I don’t want it to be over.
I’ll watch one or two episodes a week now. (Fortunately, it is football playoff and award season, so there are plenty of other programs to distract me.)
I discovered the series is based on a novel, so I’ve ordered the Kindle version to read and look forward to when the cinematic experience ends. Only now do I feel that I have done the author and Daisy justice. I’ve sufficiently thanked them for reminding me of moments as a young teenager, though mine were not nearly as exciting.
*****
In addition to movies or television, I love books where you feel that you are close friends with the protagonist or the actual author, in the case of non-fiction. The last book that pulled me in was The In-Between, where I felt a bond with the author as well as each of her patients.
My daughter-in-law, who recently lost her father to cancer, asked me to buy her the book for Christmas. The book looked interesting and, once again, had great reviews. I was curious, so I also got myself a copy for my Kindle.
I expected the book to be very sad, and there were some tears, but mostly, it highlighted her patients’ essence and character.
The author, Nurse Hadley, has a strong connection with each person she comes in contact with and guides the reader gently along the journey of their last days. She ensures that the reader knows the true spirit of each person described. It is a lovely tribute to all.
It reminded me of some of the last moments with my grandmother and dad and the ones I might have had with my mom.
*****
This past May, my husband and I went on a dream vacation to the UK. We have traveled to many places over the years, from Alaska, Hawaii, and South America to Tahiti and the Caribbean, but we have never been to Europe.
I have always wanted to go to Ireland and the UK, feeling a kinship with everything Celtic. As it turns out, I am more British than Irish, but there are still enough drops of Irish blood in me to claim Ireland as my heritage. At any rate, it was an absolutely perfect and once-in-a-lifetime trip.
The weather, the scenery, and the people were all fabulous.
I took a bazillion pictures, hoping to capture the beauty and memories there. So many times during our adventure, as I stopped to look around and shoot a photo, I thought, “This is a moment to hang onto. This place is so extraordinary. It is every childhood storybook. I have to capture every moment. I need to take it all in.”
I tried my best to do that.
*****
I’ve mentioned in previous posts that I take many pictures on ordinary days, especially of my granddaughters. I shoot everything from their smiles to rambunctious afternoons at the playground—along with numerous images of nature, animals, short trips, and anything that catches my eye.
I have a Google Hub in my kitchen that displays all my photos (even the ones I just took that day!)
I am drawn to all the memories displayed and smile when I see one that carries me back to a special moment. Often, I don’t remember capturing the event I see in front of me, but I do remember that particular, often ordinary day.
With my granddaughters, I prefer to remember in hindsight. To see how they have changed from month to month and year to year. A photo might not seem all that special when I take it, but a year later, it is a treasure, a capsule, and a moment in time—a moment I want to last.
It is my hope that the many pictures I have taken are appreciated for years to come by me, my family, my granddaughters, and eventually their future families. Photography is a magical, timeless medium.
*****
So, it has occurred to me this past week that through a relatable, entertaining television show, an engaging book, travel, ordinary days, and photos that capture it all, we are given opportunities to slow time, attract, and remember.
Every day, we are given moments to take in and embrace, even if they might seem insignificant at the time. These moments are fleeting but well worth the effort to seek out.
Let’s do that. Let’s start today.
Thank you for reading!
Keep smiling!
xx
Photo: At Glendalough Visitor Centre/ Heritage Site, Dublin, Ireland
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