My daughter is about to leave middle school and embark upon the adventure called high school. In recent days, I've been traveling back in my memory to different parts of her childhood, completely against my will. I try to live in the moment, but I keep having to look through old photos for slide shows, which are nothing more than clever devices meant to make me cry. During these forays into her virtual babyhood, I have come to the realization that having a teenager is VERY similar to having a baby. Now, I'm not talking about having one around the house. I am talking about the ACT of HAVING a baby/teenager. Let me explain.
Before you become a parent, you mentally prepare yourself as best you can with stories, books, and advice from other parents. Before you become the parent of a teen, you do the same. In both cases you think you are getting a pretty good handle on it, and then when the process begins, you realize that only about 4% of what you learned applies to your situation, and your time would have been better spent reading fantasy novels. You spend a lot of time and money buying "stuff" that you will "need" for a baby, such as a crib, and diapers, and little gadgets to put in their room so you can hear them if they need you. You spend a lot of time and money on "stuff" you will "need" for a teenager too. But now it's an Ipad, neon socks (which will not be worn as matching sets), and a smart phone so you can hear them if they need you.
When labor begins, it starts with a pain. This pain is usually centered in your abdomen and radiates out to the other parts. It comes on with little or no warning, and it changes who you are...until a moment later, when the pain disappears as if it never happened. This process of alternating earth-shattering pain and complete lack thereof progresses until the little person inside your body is finally pushed out into the world...the real world, where you can only do so much to protect them from harm besides love them and offer them the shelter of your arms.
When teendom begins, it starts with a pain. This pain centers around your heart and radiates out to all the other parts. It's usually in the form of a rude comment, a friendship breakup that you can't fix, or the fact that your little sweetheart wants to do anything that doesn't involve you. It comes with little or no warning, and it changes who you are...until a moment later, when you are joking and laughing, and your kid gives you a hug, and the pain disappears as if it never happened. This process of mind-numbing pain, and complete lack thereof continues until your child is finally pushed out into the world...THE world....the REAL world...where you can barely do anything to protect them besides love them, and offer them the shelter of your arms.
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Monday, May 28, 2012
Ponder This...Naked Graves
It's Memorial Day and I am probably going to get roasted for this blog post. I'm just going to put that out there right now. I have decided to go public with what may be a very unpopular statement. I don't decorate graves. I understand that people like to show their appreciation for our soldiers. I am deeply appreciative of them (and their families) myself. But I do not understand decorating graves. Now, let me just say that I am not bashing people who want to do this. Everyone deals with death differently, and I respect that, so if it fills you with joy or completes you in some way, then by all means don't let me stand in your way, but I have never participated in this ritual, and here is why:
Dead people don't care what their graves look like. I'd rather buy someone living a lovely bouquet with that money than spend it on someone who is probably enjoying more flowers than you can even imagine in Heaven.
A decorated grave can't express what a person meant to me. It simply cannot. Only my private memories and shared memories which involve that person can do that.
Cemeteries are not full of memories, (unless you and the dearly departed used to hang out in cemeteries, in which case I stand corrected), so if I want to remember someone I have lost, that is the last place I would go.
I feel that honoring a person's life should be more than a trip to the cemetery each Memorial Day. Maybe it would be nice to donate the flower cash to a cause, or even a person the departed person would have supported in life.
Two days after Memorial Day, the flowers are blown all over the place, and it all looks a mess, and has to be repeatedly straightened by family/staff, which are the only people who are seeing it anyway. (See my first point.)
So, ponder this...I love people. I have lost people I love. I support our military. I support naked graves.
P.S. If I happen to be wrong about dead people looking at their graves, please don't feel bad if you never decorate mine. In fact, I'd be fine if I didn't even have one. Just remember me when you hear a song I like, or when something makes you think of a great inside joke we shared, and remember I love ya. ;-)
Dead people don't care what their graves look like. I'd rather buy someone living a lovely bouquet with that money than spend it on someone who is probably enjoying more flowers than you can even imagine in Heaven.
A decorated grave can't express what a person meant to me. It simply cannot. Only my private memories and shared memories which involve that person can do that.
Cemeteries are not full of memories, (unless you and the dearly departed used to hang out in cemeteries, in which case I stand corrected), so if I want to remember someone I have lost, that is the last place I would go.
I feel that honoring a person's life should be more than a trip to the cemetery each Memorial Day. Maybe it would be nice to donate the flower cash to a cause, or even a person the departed person would have supported in life.
Two days after Memorial Day, the flowers are blown all over the place, and it all looks a mess, and has to be repeatedly straightened by family/staff, which are the only people who are seeing it anyway. (See my first point.)
So, ponder this...I love people. I have lost people I love. I support our military. I support naked graves.
P.S. If I happen to be wrong about dead people looking at their graves, please don't feel bad if you never decorate mine. In fact, I'd be fine if I didn't even have one. Just remember me when you hear a song I like, or when something makes you think of a great inside joke we shared, and remember I love ya. ;-)
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Ponder This....Stand for the Silent
Ugly! Dog! Bitch! Nerd! Slut!
Unusual way to start a blog, isn't it? But, it wasn't an unusual way to start the day...not for me. I grew up in a very small town. I had about 27 classmates, most of whom had been in classes with me since the first grade. You would think with such a small group, we'd all be friends, that we'd have each other's backs, that we would be like a family. That was not my reality. Several of those kids bullied me on a daily basis, starting late in elementary school. One of the favored taunts was to simply bark at me as I walked down the hall. Another was to tell me to "speak English" when I used "big words" I had learned from reading so many books.
For years, I tried mostly to ignore them...That was the advice my mother gave me, and it seemed to be the most effective thing I could do. It did not make them stop, and it did not stop the pain. Intellectually, I knew the words were not true, but that didn't stop the pain either. It wore on me day after day, tainting my days and nights. I could not understand why these kids...people whom I had grown up with, would be so mean to me. It was devastating, and alot of the time I suffered through it alone. Most of the time I was silent, and so were the ones who could have made a difference, because we were not empowered. No one told us that we had a right, and the POWER to end the abuse that a lot of us faced, or at least soften the blows by encouraging each other with kind words and deeds.
I grew up, left that town, and I didn't look back for many years. I had a couple of close friends that I stayed in touch with, but that was it. Not much thought did I give to those years...after all, I had come into my own in the adult world. I was successful, well respected, and liked by most of my adult peers. Not until my own child started approaching her school years, did I re-visit that dark place in the past. I started seeing more and more reports on the news of suicides, and even homicides that were attributed to bullying. It broke my heart. Every time I hear a story about how a child has been hurt inside or out by classmates, and even teachers, I am saddened to my core.
There are many anti-bullying programs in the schools now, because so many children have died as a result of cruelty on the part of their peers. I have seen some of the efforts the schools make...anti-bullying signs in the hallways and the like. I don't think much of them, because they are empty words that don't empower anyone. There is one organization that I have seen recently who seems to have a better approach. It is called Stand for the Silent. It was started by the parents of a boy in Perkins, OK who took his own life recently, after being suspended from school for fighting with a bully. After this father explains the devastation a family feels after a child commits suicide, (a very emotional journey for the entire audience), they give out pledge cards that really make a person think. It is not aimed only at people who are being bullies, it is aimed at ALL people. I strongly believe in the message, and it is my hope that you will pass it on, and even support their mission, ask to have them speak at your school or event. Lives can and MUST be changed, for the sake of all of the children who are being bruised...on the inside or out by bullying.
I Pledge
From this day forward, I promise to respect those around me as well as respect myself. I am somebody, and I can make a difference. I can make another feel loved. I can be the helping hand that leads another back to a path of hope and aspiration. I will not stand silent as others try to spread hatred through my community. Insdead, I pledge to lift up these victims and show them that their life matters. I will be the change, because I am somebody.
There are wristbands you can purchase that say "I am somebody." on them. We bought some as Christmas gifts for kids we believe in, and as a reminder that we are all "somebody" who can make a difference.
Please visit www.standforthesilent.org.
Ponder this...if you don't Stand for the Silent, who will?
Unusual way to start a blog, isn't it? But, it wasn't an unusual way to start the day...not for me. I grew up in a very small town. I had about 27 classmates, most of whom had been in classes with me since the first grade. You would think with such a small group, we'd all be friends, that we'd have each other's backs, that we would be like a family. That was not my reality. Several of those kids bullied me on a daily basis, starting late in elementary school. One of the favored taunts was to simply bark at me as I walked down the hall. Another was to tell me to "speak English" when I used "big words" I had learned from reading so many books.
For years, I tried mostly to ignore them...That was the advice my mother gave me, and it seemed to be the most effective thing I could do. It did not make them stop, and it did not stop the pain. Intellectually, I knew the words were not true, but that didn't stop the pain either. It wore on me day after day, tainting my days and nights. I could not understand why these kids...people whom I had grown up with, would be so mean to me. It was devastating, and alot of the time I suffered through it alone. Most of the time I was silent, and so were the ones who could have made a difference, because we were not empowered. No one told us that we had a right, and the POWER to end the abuse that a lot of us faced, or at least soften the blows by encouraging each other with kind words and deeds.
I grew up, left that town, and I didn't look back for many years. I had a couple of close friends that I stayed in touch with, but that was it. Not much thought did I give to those years...after all, I had come into my own in the adult world. I was successful, well respected, and liked by most of my adult peers. Not until my own child started approaching her school years, did I re-visit that dark place in the past. I started seeing more and more reports on the news of suicides, and even homicides that were attributed to bullying. It broke my heart. Every time I hear a story about how a child has been hurt inside or out by classmates, and even teachers, I am saddened to my core.
There are many anti-bullying programs in the schools now, because so many children have died as a result of cruelty on the part of their peers. I have seen some of the efforts the schools make...anti-bullying signs in the hallways and the like. I don't think much of them, because they are empty words that don't empower anyone. There is one organization that I have seen recently who seems to have a better approach. It is called Stand for the Silent. It was started by the parents of a boy in Perkins, OK who took his own life recently, after being suspended from school for fighting with a bully. After this father explains the devastation a family feels after a child commits suicide, (a very emotional journey for the entire audience), they give out pledge cards that really make a person think. It is not aimed only at people who are being bullies, it is aimed at ALL people. I strongly believe in the message, and it is my hope that you will pass it on, and even support their mission, ask to have them speak at your school or event. Lives can and MUST be changed, for the sake of all of the children who are being bruised...on the inside or out by bullying.
I Pledge
From this day forward, I promise to respect those around me as well as respect myself. I am somebody, and I can make a difference. I can make another feel loved. I can be the helping hand that leads another back to a path of hope and aspiration. I will not stand silent as others try to spread hatred through my community. Insdead, I pledge to lift up these victims and show them that their life matters. I will be the change, because I am somebody.
There are wristbands you can purchase that say "I am somebody." on them. We bought some as Christmas gifts for kids we believe in, and as a reminder that we are all "somebody" who can make a difference.
Please visit www.standforthesilent.org.
Ponder this...if you don't Stand for the Silent, who will?
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Ponder this....RoadTrip Honeymoon Adventure
Eighteen years ago this November, I married the man of my dreams, and we set off on one of the most memorable honeymoon adventures ever.
Yes, our honeymoon was to be a night at a beautiful, upscale honeymoon hotel suite, with room service...and then a 5 hour road trip to my favorite mountain in Arkansas, where my grandparents had paid for a two night stay in a cozy cabin.
We arrived at our posh hotel exhausted from all the festivities, and from staying up late the night before to decorate for the reception. We were ravenous from only having cake since breakfast, and picked the fanciest, most expensive food we could order from room service, and waited for our meal....and waited.....and waited...after an hour, we called to see what the hold up was...and were told it would be up in just a moment. ANOTHER hour later, our food arrived, stone cold.
We gave up on food, but noticed that it was getting rather chilly in the room, and turned up the heat....which promptly failed to come on. A call to guest services, and maintenence was sent up. They had a new guy and were having trouble figuring out how to turn on the heat in that unit. Since it was the end of November, we were really hoping to have a HEATED hotel room, but it was not to be. The heat NEVER came on. No matter, we could just take a hot bath in the fabulous jacuzzi....except that the heat was not on to the water tank either.
The next morning, after battling hypothermia all night, we went to the appartment to have a nice hot shower and thaw out before what was sure to be a magical two days of honeymoon bliss.
We got to the cabin without a glitch in our tiny 10 year old Honda Civic, even though the engine was a more than a little taxed by climbing the mountain. We hiked all over the place in the crisp Autumn air, and took photos of EVERYTHING we saw with my 110 camera. (It mostly all looked like brown blobs in the end.) We planned to dine out at the lodge for our evening meal, and arrived at 7:00 for dinner. The dinning room closed at 6. Our cabin did not have a mircowave, just a mini fridge and a fireplace, so we decided to find something to eat in "town". Tim, against my better judgment (see his blog for more details on how he should pay attention to my better judgement), decides to drive down the far side of the mountain.
We are now lost in a strange rural area where there is an erie smoke/fog in the air. I am not kidding, it looked straight out of a horror flick. The smoke was coming from hundreds of tiny smouldering fires where residents had decided to burn all their fall leaves while it was damp and calm out. We finally found a convenience store...and there are no cafes, or anything else anywhere near us, says the clerk. We grab what supplies we can find and drive back up the mountain. Our first WARM romantic dinner is.......hotdogs and marshmallows, roasted on sticks, over the fire in our cabin. Not gourmet, but somehow very satisfying after a long day of hiking, taking photos, getting lost, and falling more in love.
When it was time to pack up and go back to Oklahoma, we were sorry to leave the mountain, but ready to go start our "regular" life together. We hit the road at a good pace, and were moving along quite nicely, but after a bit we noticed that it was getting cold in the car, but the heater was on...So, we cranked up the heat...and the air came colder still. Then, in a puff of smoke, our Honda's engine died, never to be started again. (Cracked block, blown head gasket.) We were two hundred miles from home. There were no cell phones. I honestly do not remember how we called a tow truck, but what I do remember was sitting between my new husband and "Greasy Bob", the tow truck driver, all the way home from my honeymoon.
That's my story...it's full of ridiculousness, just like a lot of the rest of my life. But, it's also one of the best stories I ever get to tell. :0)
Friday, August 5, 2011
Ponder This... Pit Delivery
I just had to share a little story with you. I have been anxiously awaiting my E-town magazine this month, because my friend Eric, of FollowEric.com has written an article in it. This morning, I see a new mail carrier bringing my mail about 6 hours earlier than usual, and after he threw my magazine into the mailbox, I had to hastily chase him down to give him my outgoing mail. This is where it gets gross....
I see that my E-town magazine is here!...only now I don't want to touch it. This is because I have just noticed that the edges and the spine are WET and curling up, and some of the ink is running. It is BONE dry weather this morning, so my mind flashes back to the mail carrier....carrying my magazine....in his armpit!!! I know it is hot, and believe me, I respect the U.S. mail service for their hard and unpleasant work in this weather, but sweaty pit mail is just too much!
At my own personal peril, I plan to go ahead and read the article I was anticipating, after this thing dries off and I have located some disposable gloves. I expect the writing to be excellent, but I'm afraid this magazine stinks. ;0/ Boo. Postal Worker, boo. I appreciate the delivery...without the pits.
.
I see that my E-town magazine is here!...only now I don't want to touch it. This is because I have just noticed that the edges and the spine are WET and curling up, and some of the ink is running. It is BONE dry weather this morning, so my mind flashes back to the mail carrier....carrying my magazine....in his armpit!!! I know it is hot, and believe me, I respect the U.S. mail service for their hard and unpleasant work in this weather, but sweaty pit mail is just too much!
At my own personal peril, I plan to go ahead and read the article I was anticipating, after this thing dries off and I have located some disposable gloves. I expect the writing to be excellent, but I'm afraid this magazine stinks. ;0/ Boo. Postal Worker, boo. I appreciate the delivery...without the pits.
.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Ponder This...The Older I Get
A friend of mine just celebrated his upcoming birthday with a blogathon, and the topic is Most Memorable Birthday. Begging his pardon for not being able to attend, I hope I'm not too late to chime in.
My most memorable birthday was my 30th. Many people dread this milestone, and some even get downright depressed about it. I had looked forward to it for years. You see, I spent most of my youth wanting to be taken seriously. I didn't want people to think I was foolish or frivolous because of my age (or for any other reason, frankly). But I had made up my mind that when I turned 30, people would see me as a grown up, as someone who had it all together, and I couldn't wait to get to that magical place in my life.
Then something ridiculous happened. The moment I started to believe people would finally validate my decisions and my life because I was "grown", I started running around like a kid. I completely stopped caring what people thought of my decisions, and what they thought about ME in general. I discovered that I had this really playful and whimsical side that I had been keeping mostly secret from the world, lest they think me a fool. But I was not about to keep it inside any longer. I went with my best friend from high school and did Glamour shots JUST FOR FUN. (Makeovers are hysterical if you get them with the right friend/s.) I started watching Harry Potter movies, and then became completely obsessed with the books. I started listening to music written ABOUT the characters, and went to concerts with other HP fans. I went to theme parks, and let myself be just as excited and wide eyed as my daughter. I made friends of all ages to share common interests with. To put it bluntly...I stopped being a stick-in-the-mud.
My 30's have been THE BEST TIME OF MY LIFE, and I wouldn't go back for anything. I've found that the older I get, the more youthful my spirit feels...even if my aching back doesn't. ;0)
My most memorable birthday was my 30th. Many people dread this milestone, and some even get downright depressed about it. I had looked forward to it for years. You see, I spent most of my youth wanting to be taken seriously. I didn't want people to think I was foolish or frivolous because of my age (or for any other reason, frankly). But I had made up my mind that when I turned 30, people would see me as a grown up, as someone who had it all together, and I couldn't wait to get to that magical place in my life.
Then something ridiculous happened. The moment I started to believe people would finally validate my decisions and my life because I was "grown", I started running around like a kid. I completely stopped caring what people thought of my decisions, and what they thought about ME in general. I discovered that I had this really playful and whimsical side that I had been keeping mostly secret from the world, lest they think me a fool. But I was not about to keep it inside any longer. I went with my best friend from high school and did Glamour shots JUST FOR FUN. (Makeovers are hysterical if you get them with the right friend/s.) I started watching Harry Potter movies, and then became completely obsessed with the books. I started listening to music written ABOUT the characters, and went to concerts with other HP fans. I went to theme parks, and let myself be just as excited and wide eyed as my daughter. I made friends of all ages to share common interests with. To put it bluntly...I stopped being a stick-in-the-mud.
My 30's have been THE BEST TIME OF MY LIFE, and I wouldn't go back for anything. I've found that the older I get, the more youthful my spirit feels...even if my aching back doesn't. ;0)
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Ponder This...The Most Powerful Weapon for Good AND Evil
My fellow blogger and new friend, Ben wrote a great blog about the most powerful weapon in the world, in which he discusses the tongue and it's power to wound and heal others. (You should read it here: http://www.benbtl.com/2011/06/most-powerful-weapon-in-world.html) I would like to expand on that and talk about the tongue, and what it can do to YOU.
Did you know that our words about ourselves create our truth? Let me give you an example: I know people who say out loud that they are worthless (or insert any other derogatory phrase such as stupid). Somehow, they usually manage to produce very little of worth in their lives, and also VALUE very little in their lives, be it relationships or material possesions. They don't take care of things, and so they are usually in some kind of stressful mess. They have created a grim reality with harmful words.
Now, let me give you another example: I know people who say out loud that they are blessed. These people go through pain, loss, and hard times, but they always seem to come out ok. They tend to have all their needs met, and they value and care for people they are close to, and take care of the material things they have. By saying they are blessed, they are bringing about this reality in their daily lives.
I think it is easier for most people to build others up with kind words than to build themselves up. But it's important to remember that we can't have others lean on us unless we have a strong footing. God did not create his children "worthless". He created us in His image, and he wants us to be blessed and to fulfill all the potential he created in us. So, the next time you start to think, or even worse, to SAY something evil against yourself, stop! Use the most powerful weapon you have for GOOD, so that you can build up yourself, AND be a strong support for others against evil.
Did you know that our words about ourselves create our truth? Let me give you an example: I know people who say out loud that they are worthless (or insert any other derogatory phrase such as stupid). Somehow, they usually manage to produce very little of worth in their lives, and also VALUE very little in their lives, be it relationships or material possesions. They don't take care of things, and so they are usually in some kind of stressful mess. They have created a grim reality with harmful words.
Now, let me give you another example: I know people who say out loud that they are blessed. These people go through pain, loss, and hard times, but they always seem to come out ok. They tend to have all their needs met, and they value and care for people they are close to, and take care of the material things they have. By saying they are blessed, they are bringing about this reality in their daily lives.
I think it is easier for most people to build others up with kind words than to build themselves up. But it's important to remember that we can't have others lean on us unless we have a strong footing. God did not create his children "worthless". He created us in His image, and he wants us to be blessed and to fulfill all the potential he created in us. So, the next time you start to think, or even worse, to SAY something evil against yourself, stop! Use the most powerful weapon you have for GOOD, so that you can build up yourself, AND be a strong support for others against evil.
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