Why do I love the song, “The Rainbow Connection”? I don’t know, I just do. It strikes a chord in me. It’s simple and earnest. Not trying to be anything but what it is – a ray of hope in a challenging world. The Kermit the Frog version is adorable. The song was actually written for “The Muppet Movie” so, honestly, how deep could it be? But somehow those words and that gentle tune move me every time I hear them – the innocence, the joy, and the optimism.

“Why are there so many songs about rainbows? And what’s on the other side?”

The Willie Nelson version is my favorite – the coarse but strangely vulnerable way Willie caresses the lyrics as though he’d pulled each word out of his old, weathered heart. Something about hearing that grizzled crooner sing about love and dreams…. It rocks gently in my heart like a creaky front porch swing from which you have gazed at the stars, night after night, year after year, farther back than you care to remember. It’s a wistful ballad about finding that elusive love at the end of the rainbow. Do you still believe in it? Love, I mean. Do you?

“The lovers, the dreamers and me…”

Do you believe in love? And not just love, but romantic love. Whether you are married or in a relationship or in between engagements, ask yourself that and answer from the heart. You know – love! The kind that fills your heart with champagne bubbles and allows you to skate through life with rose-colored glasses. Everything is better, happier, more beautiful when you are in love. I believe in it. I do. And I think the writers of that lovely, whimsical song do too.

“Have you been half asleep and have you heard voices? I’ve heard them calling my name.”

Sometimes late at night, in between dreams, voices from the past call you to remember. Remember! Remember those moments that have long since evaporated into time, yet arrive to haunt you if you give them space. Remember? Yet the whispers of the future pull you forward impatiently, like the ocean tides. This life-long tug of war can be exhausting especially as we grow older and memories pile upon us until we can’t draw another breath.

You must surrender to the whims of the tide or it will tire you out and pull you under. Don’t fight it! Accept life for what it is. As Monty Python’s boys say “Life’s a piece of shit if you really look at it.” So, don’t look that closely. Wear those rose-colored lenses and laugh so hard you cry. At everything! At life. At anger. At fear. It’s impossible to see clearly through tears. But maybe life looks better a little blurry?

“Rainbows are visions but only illusions and rainbows have nothing to hide.”

What I wonder is this — at what point does someone settle in and refuse to move forward? At what point will a person simply give up and choose not to continue – continue with life, the routine, the game, the same old-same old? And how do you help someone who doesn’t want to be helped?

“How are you doing, Mom?”
“It’s 5 o’clock and all I want to do is sleep.”
“It’s still early. Why don’t you watch a movie?”
“Don’t nag me.”
“I’m sorry. I’m just trying to help.”

Sleep, sleep, perchance to dream. But some people don’t dream happy, cotton candy dreams. Some are tormented by the shoulda- woulda- couldas in life. There are no do overs and hindsight is 20-20. How does life sometimes veer off the tracks so badly? How does someone get so beaten down they want to throw in the towel?

“How are you, Mom?”
“Just woke up from a nap.”
“Why don’t you go for a walk?”
“I’m too tired.”

The indomitable 55-year-old woman she once was would be disappointed in the forlorn 85-year-old version. The world is against her now. She wakes up exhausted, never quite finding solace in the pillow through those long, dark nights. Never quite finding joy in the morning light. Life is no longer being lived but simply endured. She’s the crabby old lady living down the street.

How did my once-glamorous mother become this? The clothes are “schlepping” clothes. Why bother dressing up? She’s not going anywhere. Not trying to impress anyone. She mends the ripped knee and wears them still though she has 10 pairs of brand-new trousers in her bedroom.

“Why don’t you give those away and wear the new ones I bought you?”
“These are still good.”

Still good. But why? The Depression mentality. Yet she doesn’t have enough years ahead of her to wear them all out.

“Okay. Still good. Yes…. “

Please don’t give up! She’s giving up. Surrendering. My heart breaks every time we speak as she whiles away her days sorting through endless junk mail instead of writing the book she threatened to write for decades. I want to read that book! She has so much wisdom to share. She was a fervent trailblazer for women – a role model to so many. Don’t waste time, Mama! You don’t get it back.

She exists in a quiet melancholy – not happy, kind of sad, a little angry. Disappointed. Life never turns out the way we hope it will. So much sorrow. The weight of it all pulls her down. Where is the person I used to know? So strong, so wise. Fierce. Time steals that passion, like a thief in the night, and ever so gently, our loved ones are spirited away. God has a funny way of taking matters into his own hands and we rarely understand why.

“Who said that every wish would be heard and answered, if wished on the morning star?

Such power in faith. Make a wish! Maybe the wind will catch the thread of your desire and spin it into something bigger than all of us? I wish… When I am an old lady, I shall wear my hair long. I shall thumb my nose at the world and sport high heels and red lipstick and beautiful clothing. I shall laugh and sing and dance until the sun sets on my final hour. I want to wrestle the last breath out of this life before I take my ultimate bow. I refuse to live my last years in a hazy twilight. I want my life to sparkle. Ever notice how a shooting star gets bigger and more beautiful just before it disappears into the heavens? Like that.

“Somebody thought of that, and someone believed it. Look what it’s done so far.”

If I’ve learned one thing during these years I’ve spent on earth, it’s that it’s all about perspective. The glass may be half empty or half full but that the glass is refillable! Again, and again. You can reinvent yourself today. It’s never too late. It breaks my heart to see my sweet mom trade living for existing. The young, spirited her would have never approved. But the old her doesn’t give a damn.

“What’s so amazing that keeps me star gazing….”

“Expect a miracle,” they say. Define miracle, I ask. If you look too hard, you’ll never find it. A watched pot never boils. Why is it so easy to help those we don’t know and so difficult to help those to whom we are close? Too many hidden feelings. Too much sorrow. Too much suppressed resentment. In the old days, children were to be controlled as parents attempted to mold them into perfect little adults. It was rarely successful. Parents and children often became estranged once the kids were old enough to move out. The parents represented discipline and restriction. If you were raised in that sort of world, how do you suddenly become friends when you are both adults? Parents are still disapproving. Still disappointed.

Though far from being a model mom, one thing I seem to have done right in life was to forge a strong relationship with my children. I mean, I’m still the mother and ultimately make the big decisions, but it’s not a monarchy. I listen to my kids and try to make decisions to will benefit us all. Sometimes it’s hard and I’ve messed up too many times to count. But we laugh. We laugh! We like being together. We always have fun and grow a little closer every day. I’m eternally grateful for that gift. It’s the magic Kermit the Frog sings about in the song.

“We know that it’s probably magic!”

Magic. Laughter. A fond touch. A warm smile. All the things that make us feel loved and valued. They are all here. I’m not a great mom, but I’m a good mom. And that’s enough.

“I’ve heard them calling my name….”

Sometimes those voices from the past call out to me, reminding me of everything I was, and everything I’ve become: fragile yet strong, vulnerable yet tough. Eternally hopeful. That’s me. Always seeking that ineffable connection – “The Rainbow Connection” perhaps? Maybe that’s the secret? Connection with others is the only way we can keep going in this world – arm in arm – hand in hand – the lovers, the dreamers, and me.

“Why are there so many songs about rainbows? And what’s on the other side?”