Finally Returned, Since October, Mackler Moments, and A Poem: “Gracious”

pat amm hug
The after-my-daughter’s wedding ceremony moment – hugging my brother Patrick Harold. Oh!

Moments matter. That is my wisdom for the year. Call them Mackler Moments. Call this an Anne Marambling. It doesn’t matter. But the moment, it matters.

Love Found

The moment the bride and groom become one. That moment, that one, when a binding smile enveloped each of us who was present to witness these nuptials. We became one unit in celebration of this promise of love and loyalty. This expression of trust and truth — and all of our cheeks ached the next day. So much smiling. Hugging. Moments matter. Lives change.

Love Lost

The moment that my love and I said ‘no more.’ A phone call, a voice, 450 miles away, half way through the sixth year, and the end was in our sights, and in our sighs. Ripples of loss, and sometimes tidal waves, washed over us both, we hung up. And when the water receded, clear footprints made their strong impression in the sand, and each toe, even my broken one, made a small indentation of certainty as they traveled in opposite directions. Then a wave cleaned the slate, and the cuffs of our jeans were soaked, but we were too far away by then. It was over. Moments matter.

Family Visit

The moment that my faraway family stepped out of their rental car, and into the close, the personal, my home, my space, my life. Welcome you. Welcome family. They traveled here to me, to this, to share this, this landscape, this sky, this quiet, this result of nearly forty years not there, not back home, only here, on my own. To embrace you into this sister-ness of me and hold tight to your presence wishing always I could keep you a bit longer. Come back surely, come back. Moments matter.


The moment that a new neighbor became a new acquaintance became a new friend became a first kiss. Whoa! There is nothing in all the world as fascinating and comforting and surprising  — all at once — as is a first kiss.  Moments matter.

Diving In

The moment noon’s sun sparkles and dances like a crazy person on a quiet Mexican Gulf shoreline, and suddenly what should appear? My two girls clad bravely in December bathing suits walking into that effervescence, that sunshine fireworks moment, and even if I hadn’t known it was them, I would know the outlines of these daughters, walking side by side, daring each other to be the one to take the first polar plunge. And then they were both gone beneath the sea, and as quickly reappeared in a splashing, wet second, shaking new glitter into the scene, exasperated with the thrilling cold sea. Christmas swim in México. Moments matter.

My Wish

For this year, this new year, this 2019, my wish is for everyone to pause as often as you absolutely can afford to do in your day,  your night, and watch. Listen. Smell the moment. Be in the moment. You choose which. Any will work. Burn it into your memory.

The good, the less, the forgettable, and the impossible to dismiss. Make it more by paying such very close attention, with all of who you are, and all that it is or could be, that it is remembered. No, not a selfie. Not a post. Use your senses, take a deep breath,  make it matter, to you. That moment.

May every moment matter, but more importantly, may you find the time to notice just one. One a day. A Mackler Moment. The very first when you just wake up; or the very last when, exhausted, you sigh. Or one in between. There is always one memorable moment every day. Pick one.

Then go on to all the others that you simply do not have the time to keep in that same way. There are too many, too many. Find that one moment and make it matter.  May this year be a year of 365 moments that you make matter by pausing to make them so.

Gracious: Giving Thanks

Be grateful
today arrive at the table
empty and accomplished.

Leave the anger of the year
or the century or the moment
or of the history of our country
by the door
and if you do not have a door
step or roll or scoot away
from the hostility that is
your usual dining

Release the harsh,
all of it–the words the news
the restrictions and impediments
and suffering and fear and dread
and worry and regret–release all
the scratchy gut wrenching life
and untie the knots
let that belly rest
then the tongue.

Tame that tongue
like an ill-bred puppy
scooting about in your mouth
and piddling, tame it
and be quiet.

And help another if you have nothing
offer a smile if you have none
look kindly upon the day and if
you have the great fortune
to be in a kitchen warm and lovely
with scent and preparation, offer
a hand, a song, a hug, do not
approach that table having
done nothing to make
its bounty so.

Offer to help those with much
and offer more help to those
with nothing, no matter
what you are measuring or
believe about
why they do
or why they don’t.

Oh, and BTW, Hello! I am back. Finally. A redesigned blog, offering, most importantly, some organization. I probably over-thought the categories. Yeah, I did, I am certain. And I probably should have included, ‘short,’ ‘longer,’ and ‘really long sit down and have a cup of something.’

But for now, a click, and in the matter of a quick scroll, you will know if the post requires an investment of more than a few seconds or minutes or more. And click away if you haven’t the time or interest. But come back if you can. There are some moments here worth sharing.

The photo is of me and my brother Pat at my daughter Riana’s October wedding, all credit to the fabulous photographer Megan Mack.

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