Life is a constant precarious balance
Solidity against the breeze of time,
And death a constant reminder
Of denial and acceptance.
One misstep away from a plummet
We fall from grace or fall in love.
We are poised for the end, but if
We endure and remain stable, we will leave behind
A pair of hands, or perhaps a multitude of hearts
Who remember when they discover stones of interest
To pile up rock solid moments, enshrine memories,
Encircle themselves in love for the entirety of their life.
INSECURITIES & EXCHANGES
My smile was too big for my face. This created a quiet nervousness and uncertainty in my psyche. If you watch closely, you will see that it lingers still. As a child in school, I would have absolutely wanted to wear a mask. It would have protected me from developing the low self-esteem that I carried inwardly for most of my life. My self-perceived ugliness would have been hidden. The anxiety I had about my overbite may have been squelched if my classmates couldn’t see it, and perhaps I would not have been a target for bullying. I spent many hours in the nurse’s office in third grade to sixth grade. There I found a safe place where I could be alone long enough to calm myself when the teasing at recess felt overwhelming. I told the nurse that I had a headache or a tummy ache, but in reality, it was my heart that was wounded. The thoughts and emotions floating in my young head were on overdrive. How could my classmates be so mean? Why am I so ugly? I hate them. I want to be friends. I hate myself. You see, not only did I have an overbite, my two front teeth had been chipped when I flew over my handlebars in a bike accident. I knew I was ugly; my teeth were pointy. My classmates merely confirmed this fact. During those few years I had three new schools bringing three new sets of classmates. Looking back on those years now, I wonder that if had I only had one school perhaps the teasing wouldn’t have been as prolonged during my formative years.
One cold day in particular, I felt completely surrounded by the name calling at lunch recess. “Bucky Beaver” or “Snaggletooth”. Everyone was against me, even my handful of friends didn’t come to my defense. I quickly yanked my knitted hat over my face so that they wouldn’t see my tears as I ran to the nurse’s office. She was sympathetic as always and asked me what had upset me so much, and I told her. She allowed me to recover on the cot, however a little while later she breezed in and said the principal would like to see me. Most kids would be mortified by that sentence being directed at them. Not me, I just knew that he would want names of the bullies, to punish them. I sat timidly in front of his desk, and he began by asking if I knew who Eleanor Roosevelt was. He then went on to tell me that she had overcome sadness in her life, that people did not consider her a beauty, but she had become a well-respected and important woman who was loved worldwide. At my young age I didn’t grasp the significance of what he was telling me. I heard only that it was okay to not be pretty. I do not know if my classmates were reprimanded. I did not feel any better about myself. It wasn’t until many years later, when looking back, I realized he had attempted to make me feel better by telling me looks are not everything, that what we have inside us, is what is vital to a happy life.
When my dad found out what had happened that day, he was calm but with an undercurrent of annoyance directed at the principal. “Don’t worry about your looks, you’re going to grow into your teeth.” And “You will be beautiful like your mother.” And “Some people consider Eleanor Roosevelt to be attractive.” Or “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” My dad has always known what to say to make me feel better about myself. He still does to this day.
Shortly after, we moved to Shiloh and a new school. I was older, my face filled out, and I eventually had porcelain caps put on my chipped teeth. I still had that overbite, but the teasing wasn’t mean, it was good natured. I was a novelty, new girl in the school and it seemed like everyone wanted to get to know me. There were only five girls in my classroom and the boys gave us all nicknames. I was Feather Head because of my last name, Heatherly. Shiloh was a turning point in my childhood, as I formed close friendships in that small town that have lasted my lifetime. However, to this day I cringe and squirm inside anytime I hear the word bucktooth.
Maneuvering in a Covid era has all of us feeling insecure and uncertain. With all the inane debating about masking at school this coming fall, these memories of my childhood have been on the forefront. I guess the reason I write this is twofold: Firstly, for the parents: Stop creating stress for your children with your anti-masking stance. Stop confusing mask wearing with an infringement on your rights. Change your mind set about YOUR rights. Having rights comes with responsibility to YOUR community. I understand your distrust with the government, but this pandemic has NOTHING to do with politics. Our government is not attempting to manipulate you. Continuing the anti-vax, anti-mask stance makes you out to be a whiner. Pick your battles. Be an activist in a fight that is worthy (environmental, poverty, healthcare, taxes… there are so many), instead of this self-entitled, fear of vaccine/disbelief of the seriousness of Covid. You look foolish. Variants don’t care about your opinion. Is this the lesson you want to teach your children? You are adding to their fear and confusion. Your children have no problems with wearing a mask, in fact, some of them may prefer it. It may even help them concentrate on their studies instead of worrying about what others think of them. All for one, one for all.
Secondly, for the kids: The United States of America was created to insure the people have a right to their own opinions, ideas, and lifestyle. You have won the geographical lottery to be living in this great country. But be sure your principles, beliefs, rights are on the right side of history. We all know that wearing a mask is uncomfortable, but it is the right thing to do to destroy a virus, which will continue to replicate and become stronger, unless society uses its tools to combat it. Your mask is your weapon. Also, for the kids who are struggling with their self-esteem, remember to love who you are, flaws and all, and know that everyone has them. Remain aware that your looks will change as you grow. Keep in mind that nobody is scrutinizing you as closely as you criticize yourself. They, too, are all wrapped up in their own insecurities. You will always appear stronger when you are open minded, kind and accepting rather than bullying and judgmental.
Behind the mask
My views are unsuppressed
While I do not flaunt my thoughts
Look closer. My opinions are expressed,
if only to myself.
Behind the mask
I flagrantly display
Disgust, distain, annoyance
It is liberating really.
Behind the mask
My face relaxed
Unguarded, unseen.
Shallow breaths indoors become deeper
as I distance myself from the unknown.
Behind the mask
I sigh, I mutter, I curse
Covid fatigue, foolishness, boredom and politics.
Silent screams save my soul from tedium and buffoons.
Behind the mask
My eyes do the talking
Telltale dark circles,
An arched brow, a squint, a scowl,
Or a roll of the eyes.
Pay attention.
Behind the mask
I read others’ body language while I
chose with care which gesture to use to
evoke an emotion, a concept or understanding.
Behind the mask.
Sheltered from suspended virus particles,
Unshackled from senseless arguments of whether to wear it or not
Common sense buoyed by science and consideration of community
Safe from scrutiny, I will sneer at those showing ignorant bravado.
Donna Heatherly
Oct 26, 2020
My parents had a true unwavering love. They gleaned happiness out of each day of the 52 years that they were together, spreading that joy to their family. Even in times of sorrow or just tired from dancing through life, they leaned on one another in a beautiful way that I have never seen in any other couple. My dear mom had a quiet deep-seated patience with an acceptance of others in a nonjudgemental manner. She exemplified genuine kindness. I am continually amazed by my dad! His friendly charm and knowledge about many things have taught me to be curious and optimistic about life and reminds me to seek understanding.
I have heard the story of how my parents’ courtship began many times over the course of my life, but never has it held as much emotion for me as it has the last time I heard my dad recount it.
As a child, the details were missed by me.
He has always had a story, and has always had an uncanny recall of even the seemingly smallest details. Lately, it seems he cannot get his stories out fast enough. Here is my favorite:
He began by a funny tale of his 1st drunk, therefore his 1st hangover at the age of 18 while attending a work Christmas party for his brief stint at the Bank of St. Louis. Being a greenhorn, he did not know what to order at the bar, but as a youngster he had swept out the floor at the local tavern for pocket money and often heard the men order whisky and rye on the rocks. (Rock candy). Thus, that is what he ordered. When asked what he wanted to chase it with he not knowing any better said, 7 and 7. Didn’t take long before he was found “flopping in the parking lot like a fish, throwing up”.
The next day, still feeling like death warmed, over he wandered into Woolworths in search of a Christmas gift for his mother. The candy counter sales lady was a striking brunette. She asked him if he had any girlfriends in school. In his hurry to escape the beautiful woman and not desiring to embarrass himself he said no. Turning away and striding to the exit with his purchase he began to recall a sweet little girl in 4th grade he had had a fondness for.
Quickly, he made a bee-line back to the counter and said, yes, there was one girl in 4th grade. She asked him if he was Bob Heatherly. She told him her name, Jeannie Pharris. The same little girl he had given a special Valentine to in 4th grade. He had given other girls in the class a card, but for her he chose a different one.
That night he went home and told his mother about meeting Jeannie Pharris at Woolworths. His mom went into the closet and pulled out a Valentine card from his 4th grade. It was the one that Jeannie had given him. His mother had saved it because of what that little girl had written on it. “Save this until you are older.”
He could not get Jeannie off his mind. In March, he went back to Woolworths but they were closed for inventory. He banged on the door, until it was brusquely opened. He asked if she was in there, and his heart leapt when she came towards him with her beautiful smile. He asked her out on a date, but his heart fell when she told him she was dating someone else.
Still, he could not get her out of his head. While at the dance halls and night clubs cavorting and having a great time, he compared all the ladies to Jeannie. He was smitten and continued to pursue her. Finally, they had a date. She brought with her the Valentine that HE had given her. They had BOTH saved the Valentine from that year…. having tossed away the many others received over the years. Even at that early age, they had each felt a strong connection to each other!
We said goodbye to her on February 14th, 2009. Valentines Day holds a mixed bag of emotions for me, signifying a loving life full of hope and light, as well as reminder of how dark the day can turn.
DJ Heatherly
It isn’t right
To build custom homes then need to uproot every 2 years.
To say Purple People Eater each time I wear purple.
To need to feed our dog every time you put something in your mouth…
Or every time you leave or enter the house.
To say you are worn out and do not want to work any longer, and yet
To work for free for a family member for years.
To sell an RV and still owe 13,000.
To divorce your love due to financial stress.
To then buy a smaller one.
To drive it to Florida in the winter because there is plenty of handyman work,
But you don’t want to work.
To play the victim of your own circumstances.
To buy a small condo and have the same mortgage as a custom home on a private location.
To tell the same stories over and over about a past your current wife had zero to do with.
To raise your hand like a gun with road rage at the driver going by who pissed you off.
To sleep most of the day with seasonal affective disorder; and not seek treatment.
To wear torn denim and stained 20-year-old T-shirts to meet a client and bid on a job.
To say if I look poor maybe they will pay more.
To play online poker for hours without winning real money.
To only be capable of feeding our dog, unable to prepare a meal for yourself.
To be oblivious to hints.
To have no natural curiosity.
To never lock doors yet carry a pistol when traveling.
To insist on keeping the RV cabinet door open for dog treats so they don’t get hot, yet
To not care about your own human food in the adjacent cabinet.
To continually use the same adjective – “pretty”… Grand Canyon, Tetons, Gulf of Mexico.
To shit 5 minutes after gorging on a big helping of seconds.
To always fail to put in new trash bag when emptying trash can.
To not know your partners eye color after looking into them for 4 years.
To go down on all fours to kiss your dog good morning and good night. Every day, every night.
To forget your best friends’ sons’ name.
To be so embarrassed about your family that you do not care about their whereabouts.
To avoid important topics with your daughters for fear of conflict.
To feel more comfortable with, and crave, small talk over deep conversation.
To state the obvious so often that I become numb to anything you say.
To not brush your teeth while camping.
To desire sex every day and yet make no effort except pout.
To think I do not love you anymore if sex isn’t as often as you want it.
To have no desire to search for a movie or new show. Instead watch HGTV or House Hunters.
To act drunk after one small marguerita and drive 90 MPH in a 45 – “I feel the need for speed” on a family vacation in Jackson Hole –
nearly slamming into a vehicle ahead of us who had stopped for wildlife.
To never grill yet have to have the same pellet grill/smoker because buddies all have one.
To tell me you still love me a year after divorce and state the longer we are apart the more you miss me.
The flaming colors of autumnal burning bushes ablaze with their vibrant red have always been an enchanting seasonal spectacle for me, a reminder of natures enduring beauty. This years’ have been especially poignant for me as I wander a dear friend’s land where they are in abundance, each one painstakingly planted by him. When their colors first began to appear this year, he was making progress on the task of a much-needed barn clean out. The seat of a swing that had undoubtedly belonged to his younger years came to my notice and I envisioned him pushing his laughing daughters in the swing. My eyes welled up as my mind was seized by the sharp contrast of the past and present.
When I see the beauty of the bushes in bloom, it is always with a bittersweet nostalgia, a longing for my younger self, that time in my life when I didn’t know of the brevity of life. With times cursorily escape, these bushes have become a reminder that circumstances will alter life’s transitions. Time’s relentless exodus will take me away from familiar faces, places, hopes and loved ones; much like the burning bushes colors disappearing each year. It saddens me.
However, the ebb and flow of life provokes me to savor every opportunity to behold not only the burning bushes with their hues shouting ”Look at me”, but all of nature’s gifts. Now, I live in the present, appreciating the minutiae and the briefest of minutes, knowing that these moments will never return. I will not walk these same woods again; a felled tree, a dry ravine, the sun dappled fields are ever changing. Unlike the fiery foliage whose plant DNA offers its perpetual return.
Donna Heatherly
Happy Birthday to my gorgeous ginger sprite! As you celebrate turning five, I have a special gift for you… A tiny red haired porcelain angel playing a guitar once belonged to your great, great grandmother Grace Catherine Louise Costello Heatherly. I hope you will keep this little keepsake as a reminder of how deep our family roots are and how vast they will continue to spread. It is also my hope that you will learn to play a string instrument, perhaps be the first female in our family who shreds guitar riffs, or passionately play the violin. You have the music in you, as is highly evident by how much you love to dance every time you hear it! You are a natural entertainer!
Just like the fiery red hair that flows from your head, this angel is a symbol of uniqueness and beauty and it represents the love and strength that has been passed down through generations. Your great, great grandmother treasured this angel, and now, it’s your turn. Whenever you look at it, remember the strong and kind women who came before you. The each had a bit of that same feisty, fun-loving essence you have. They will be watching over you and protecting you, just like this angel.
You are a precious of brightness in my life, and I love you more than words can express.
Happy birthday, my little sweet!
Love, Love!!
Grandma
September 19, 2023
This angel was given to me last year by my cousin Teri Johnson Lewis when she was in town to bury her father, Glen. She told me that when our Grandma Grace passed away in 1998 this was one of the items she wanted to keep from her things. She told me that now that we have another red head in the family, that this should be given to Hadley.
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To our sweet boy on his birthday - loving thoughts from his Grandma. Silas has an insightfully funny personality who is quick to read the emotions of others as well as express his own, at times with gleeful abandon, and other times with a controlled reserve. I love his happy, silly dance moves, his feet stepping lightly at such a quick light brings my energy level up x10! And I cherish the quiet moments when he wants me climb up on his bunk bed to read Shel Silverstein and talk about poems before bed. A brain like a sponge, he absorbs every tidbit of new information and locks it in like a steel trap. He is a baby elephant, retaining even complex ideas. He knows the rules of chess and is a brave player, making bold moves. He craves learning and creating. His parents began nurturing his ability to learn at a very early age, checking out EVERY book at the public library and reading nightly. In any given week I could walk into his bedroom and find baskets of new books to explore. This boy has a vocabulary better than some adults! These days he prefers to create scenarios on Mindcraft over reading, but his parents keep a sharp lookout for using too much screen time. And Legos…. Silas knows Legos! Use caution when entering his room as the floor is covered with creativity. During the Presidential election last year, he and I had a timed contest to see who could build the best White House. He won. He has a monthly subscription to KiwiCrate, which is a STEM kit. We have such a good time putting them together, and I am always impressed at how he follows each step of the project carefully. I pray he never looses interest in learning. Starting school during a global pandemic has been fraught with emotions and challenges. Silas has the advantage of his young age and not having had much experience in a school environment but still he felt the stress of remote learning. Before classes started in the fall we were playing poolside when he told me with grown worry in his little voice, “I can’t do what my mom and dad do’”. They have both worked remotely for quite some time. I did not know what he meant, however as the conversation went on and his tears emerged, I realized he was very worried about using a computer. His parents eased his mind with their patience and their availability to be nearby while he gained his confidence. I have often said that I would like to be a fly on a wall in my children/grandchildren classroom; remote learning gave me an occasional glimpse of him interacting with his teacher. He has done well at remote learning for Kindergarten and is good listener and quick learner. I overheard the Letter-Of-The-Day while he was at class/laptop at my house. The letter was ‘U’ and Silas said “Ukulele, its like a guitar, only smaller. I have one”. When his teacher said she hopes he will play for her one day, a shy, worried smile lit across his face. The simple things like that make me smile. In January 2021, school was open for in-person and he was so happy to be back, making new friends. He is definitely a social guy who loves to laugh, make up jokes and play. He is learning soccer; it is sad to see the littles on the field wearing their masks, covering up their cuteness, however they do not seem to mind and treat it as business as usual. He has also started Boy Scouts recently. I am very proud of how Silas looks out for his little sister, and as Hadley is growing and becoming insistently verbal (that girl just has to be heard), I see that he sometimes HAS to tune her out, but somehow she is always in big brothers radar. I know the two of them will always have a tight bond. She watches her big brother’s every move, and she is going to be as curious about things as he is. Silas is a joy to be around. He is seldom cranky but when he is, it is always brief. If he is upset with someone or something he quickly curbs his attitude. Truthfully, I have never seen him have a tantrum, even when he was younger. It is remarkable. The only times I have seen him upset is if he feels his older cousins are making fun of him or ignoring him. He wants so much to be a part of their teenage conversations/actions. It breaks my heart to see his little feelings hurt, but I get how Dylan and Devin need their space too. It is all a part of learning to cope, and I know they all love one another; the age differences will one day work themselves out. I foresee a future of Silas continuing to make us all proud, bringing all our lives laughter and wonderment with his inquisitive spirit and happy personality. Love, Love! Grandma May 3, 2021
Maneuvering in a Covid era has all of us feeling insecure and uncertain, so Just Stop with all the inane debating about masking at school. The reason I write this is twofold: Firstly, for the parents: Stop creating stress for your children with your anti-masking stance. Stop confusing mask wearing with an infringement on your rights. Change your mind set about YOUR rights. Having rights comes with responsibility to YOUR community. I understand your distrust with the government, but this pandemic has NOTHING to do with politics. Our government is not attempting to manipulate you. Continuing the anti-vax, anti-mask stance makes you out to be a whiner. Pick your battles. Be an activist in a fight that is worthy (environmental, poverty, healthcare, taxes… there are so many), instead of this self-entitled, fear of vaccine/disbelief of the seriousness of Covid. You look foolish. Variants don’t care about your opinion. Is this the lesson you want to teach your children? You are adding to their fear and confusion. Your children have no problem with wearing a mask, in fact, some of them may prefer it. It may even help them concentrate on their studies instead of worrying about what others think of them. All for one, one for all.
Secondly, for the kids: The United States of America was created to insure the people have a right to their own opinions, ideas, and lifestyle. You have won the geographical lottery to be living in this great country. But be sure your principles, beliefs, rights are on the right side of history. We all know that wearing a mask is uncomfortable, but it is the right thing to do to destroy a virus, which will continue to replicate and become stronger, unless society uses its tools to combat it. Your mask is your weapon. Keep in mind that your classmates are not scrutinizing you as closely as you criticize own self. They are all wrapped up in their own insecurities. Remember, you will always appear stronger when you are open minded, kind and accepting rather than bullying and judgmental.
Writesandwrongs 
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