That’s how I always think of it, no matter what’s going on. A time of new beginnings and possibilities, Spring blossoms, and Nature’s insistence on renewal. My partiality to May could also result from being the month in which I was born…more on that later.

Despite the varied solemn news that continues to surround us, I hope you are entering Spring with a sense of positive anticipation as you emerge from hibernation or isolation. Smell the fresh air and enjoy the daylight! It seems long overdue. I personally have the good fortune of living by Central Park, so it renews my spirit to immerse myself in all its current glory, complete with a heady abundance of blossoms. The majestic cherry blossoms have just passed their peak and their petals have descended gracefully to the ground, releasing a magical pink carpet beneath their proud branches. Such an elixir for the soul!

On the social front, I have embarked on some semblance of normalcy by attending live performing arts events, cinema, and hosting a couple of Covid-free dinner parties. This July I look forward to my first plane trip in over two years, to visit a dear friend on the West Coast, and later I will venture to Northern Spain and Portugal, all with mask at the ready. These revived escapades seem almost radical, but oh, how wonderful!

So, what else is new here since my February/March newsletter? Well, surprise, surprise! Yet ANOTHER award for Journey Between Two Worlds! The most recent honor is the selection of Karola’s memoir for the 2022 Eric Hoffer Grand Prize Short List, where less than 5% of nominees are recognized. A subsequent honor is Karola receiving the 2022 Eric Hoffer Honorable Mention Award in the category of Memoir. Mom, you are amazing! How I wish we could be sharing this honor together here on earth, yet I feel we are joined in celebration, nonetheless. BRAVA!

The awards are awe-inspiring. Not that I’m surprised my mother Karola could have such an honor bestowed on her, but that she could be recognized and honored by so many! At this point there are FOUR award programs that have recognized her memoir, Journey Between Two Worlds. Though she has always had a strong sense of self, she has also been humble and unboastful. I feel that these awards acknowledge her depth of character and courageous humanity in her writing; her warm sincerity, personality, and humor easily seep into her words, coloring the circumstances of her true story with wit and keen observation. It touches me deeply that these attributes have touched others. People who never knew her feel her inner spirit and are inspired by it. That is a gift I treasure. Her awards are an esteemed affirmation. Thank you to the award judges, editorial reviewers, and Award Programs of Royal Dragonfly, Feathered Quill, Literary Titan, and Eric Hoffer. I am eternally grateful.

Bill (left) and Margaret (right)

Before the happy outcome, however, the situation was not so rosy. First of all, our arrival was not anticipated for another two months so there was little preparation. Once labor pains, or “indigestion”, were suspected, depending on which “he said/she said” version one selected, a call to the doctor became necessary. That’s when a vital impediment intervened: the pending parents had no phone in the house. The nearest one belonged to their neighbors about a half mile away. Once the Phillips family was woken close to one o’clock in the morning by my father, the doctor was called and on his way. Meanwhile, as Dad was on his phone mission, Mom’s water broke, while a closer-by neighbor (who also did not have a phone) was with her. This sounds like a good commercial for a cell phone, which wasn’t invented for public use until thirty-five years later. Once the doctor finally arrived, he concluded that it was time for an ambulance. I quote now from a brief excerpt, from Chapter 15 of Journey Between Two Worlds, how Mom described the scene from that point:

“The sirens were wailing; I could not help but feel important with those sirens sounding loudly because of me!

I felt that so far, I had the most attention I ever received in my entire life.

Even the birds gave us their most brilliant songs and the lilac bush by the house was so fragrant. I inhaled the scent just prior to being loaded into the ambulance. “

From then on, as an annual tradition on our birthday while growing up, my father would cut a huge bouquet of lilacs from a lilac bush near the house. He would arrange them simply in a large vase and place them in the middle of our dining table. The flowers’ perfume filled the space and created an atmosphere of nature’s celebration and remembrance. The signature scent and lavender/purple color remain a nostalgic memory; coming upon lilacs in bloom anywhere sets my heart aflutter. In their springtime lifespan, lilacs may be fleeting, but their fragrance is forever.

The senses contribute greatly to memory and remembrance. They come into play in my recent blogs about my grandparents. The first one focuses on my paternal grandparents and is titled “Oma and Opa, from Germany to New York.” The second is titled “My Maternal Grandparents.” Having realized that there is no one left in my family who has any recollection of them except me, I felt an urgency to share at least some of my impressions about them. Though there are few remaining in the family who may be interested, my inclination is to bring such memories to light, wherever they may land. I heartily welcome your comments on anything I have shared, and invite you to contribute a memory of your own. Karola’s memoir has often prompted individuals to reflect on their own family heritage. Your thoughts and participation would create a more inclusive forum of communication. Thank you for considering this.

Having facilitated the launching of Journey Between Two Worlds, I find that it keeps drawing me deeper into further inroads to explore. I refer to it loosely as “sideways research;” one subject begets another, and down the rabbit hole I go. The journey does, indeed, continue.

At this point in life, I’m grateful for waking up each morning to greet another new day, especially one that extends my life by an additional year. On this May 9, I say Happy Birthday to me, blessings to my late twin Bill, and thanks to my late parents who made it all possible.

I wish all of you wellness in every sense of the word.

Cheers and love, 
Margaret

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