The Sparkle of Silver

On August 5, 1989, I rolled over in my sleep a little after 6 am and was started awake to find Billy's smiling face staring down at me!  If I hadn't been so miffed at the whole "can't-see-the-bride-before-the-wedding-thing" I might have freaked out a little.  But I've shared that story before - his aunt and uncle had arrived the day before bearing gifts and he just KNEW I'd want to open them right away!

25 years ago, today.

Hardly even seems possible.

I have a hard time even believing I'm old enough to have been married 25 years.  But I am.  I woke up two years ago and realized I'd been married half my life.  Billy will get that honor in October.

I thought the other day about the old story when the man stands up at his anniversary party and toasts his wife on a wonderful 23 years.  A guest leans in and says "but you've been married 25 years" and the man responds "and your point is?".

I'd be a fool to sit here and say that all 9,125 days we've been together were all rainbows and bluebirds.   You'd be a bigger fool to believe it.  Life is hard and marriage is harder.

But oh so worth it!  I am incredibly proud today of reaching this milestone.  This Silver Anniversary.

There is no one that I'd rather wake up and see every morning or kiss goodnight every night.  I can't even envision a world for me without him in it.  He has stood beside me through thick and thin - both literally and figuratively.  He has comforted me in times of loss.  Supported me in times of trouble. Loved me though good days, and bad. I believe I have done the same for him.   We are, after all, Team Tanksley.

Life isn't always perfect.  I asked him the other day if he'd ever regretted marrying me.  He grinned and said "only when I'm mad at you."  Daddy always said if a couple didn't fuss every once in a while then one side wasn't holding up their end of the deal.  But we've always come out on the other side, stronger.

Life is an adventure!  And every adventure is made better with a buddy,  a partner.   And yes, especially a soulmate.   We've gone places and done things that might not have happened otherwise.  We follow each others dreams. We are truly sharing our lives.

I've told the story before of how we met so I won't go down that road again, but I've always, in my heart of hearts, known that Billy Lee Tanksley, Jr. was the man with whom God had chosen for me to spend my life.  I think that is way we've worked so hard through the tough times and celebrated the good - we know we belong together.

We've come a long way in 25 years - and since we barely dated a year before the wedding that is really almost all it is - and we still have miles to go before we sleep.  Every day is a new day.  A new chance to change.  A new opportunity for growth.  A new window on the world, open for all it can be.

In all that I do, the only time I'm truly happy is when we're together.  Watching an old movie, surrounded with puppies.  Quietly enjoying each other's company.  And yes, I have told him that.  I say it almost once a week, if not more.

So, thank you, Billy.  For everything.  For being my rock, my life, my love, my everything.  May I spend at least the next 25 years at your side.

We've come a long way, baby!

We Are One

As the Olympic Games draw to a close, I have been struck how, for at least a little while, we have been one nation.

I watched the opening ceremonies and you see the pure joy and excitement on these athletes' faces.  For some, that Parade of Nations IS their Olympic experience.  They will compete, but the expectations for some are not so great.

After the first round of team ice skating and the now famous images of Ashley Wagner's face and her commentary on the judges' scores for her performance, I took to Facebook and was immediately conscious of the terms "our girl" and "the American" when my friends were voicing their thoughts on the judging.  "How could the Chinese girl score better when she fell and our girl didn't?"

Aside from the issues of judging certain events, and, let's face it, scoring is easier when there is a time clock involved - no one ever awards style points because your skies sparkled or matched your racing suit better - there were very valid injured feelings towards "our girl".  I doubt many had heard of her before that night but now everyone was up in arms and ready to defend her!

We are a nation of labels - Republican, Democrat, white, black, Jewish, Protestant, Catholic, Gay, Straight, short, tall, skinny, overweight.  But during the Olympics the only labels you see are skater, skier, luger, bobsledder.  They are all Americans. The only distinguishing feature is their sport.

And we cheer for the Americans.  How many times have you turned on the television to see an event in progress and your only question is "which one is the American?  Where's our guy?".  We don't understand curling.  But we don't have to to be able to support our home team.  I can't tell a triple Lutz from a quadruple Salchow but I can cheer for the young Gracie Gold.  Because she is an American.  We don't discriminate because of someone's color, or whether or not they graduated college, or if they voted for President Obama or not.  None of that is relevant to the race being run.  Did he ski the fastest?  Did she fall during her routine?  Those are the questions that matter.

For just a little while we are not a nation of Denver Broncos vs. Seattle Seahawks, Boston Red Sox vs. New York Yankees, or SEC football vs. the rest of the collegiate conferences.  We are the USA against the World - literally.

And we love it.

I just wish we could carry it over after the cauldron flame is extinguished tonight.

Like I've said before, we come together as a nation during times of tragedy and triumph.  It's all the times in between where we drop the ball.

For two weeks we have been One Nation.  Under God.  Indivisible.

Monday morning we'll start hearing again how the Left did this or the Right didn't do this.  News stories will be told that identify the people as a White Man or a Black Woman when the color of the person's skin is truly and completely irrelevant to the story (not like a missing person or an escaped convict).

People will be labeled according to any manner of means.

I'm not a fan of labels.

I am just me.

I am an American.

I think we would all be better served if we could learn to put those monikers aside and remember that People are People.  We come in all shapes, sizes, ethnic backgrounds, religious ideologies and a myriad other preferences.  But if we can look beyond and really, truly, see the person behind the label, I think we could see that we all have something that is worth cheering.

And we shouldn't wait two more years until the Summer Games to do so.

They Were Right

(NOTE>  I did write this on January 2nd - just didn't hit the right button to publish it.  Sorry for the lateness.)


I remember when I was growing how the "old folks" would talk about how fast time flew the older they got.

Pffttt! I would think.  Of course, a child has no real concept of time.  Someone tells you when to get up in the morning; when to go to school; when to go home; when to go to bed.  In the summer, time was daylight to dark.  But how could it go faster?  60 minutes in an hour.  24 hours in a day. 365 days in a year. 

Time was finite.

Au contraire!

Now, I get it.  I woke up yesterday and it was 2014.

How did that happen?

I have no idea, but I do know that 2013 was a very good year.  (After 2011 the bar wasn't really very high, but still, a good year is a good year!  I really don't remember much about 2012 as 2011 was carrying over.)

One of the highlights, a beautiful trip to the Emerald Isle with my mom.  Love her for taking me on the trip and allowing me to cross an item off my Bucket List (and yes, I really and truly do have an honest-to-goodness handwritten list in a notebook).  I need to write all about it, and I will.  We had a lovely time and I met some very nice folks with whom she travels.  I want to go back to Ireland with Billy (and not just so I can stand on the Cliffs of Mohr) and do a few more things but it was a great scouting trip.  (Mom has now decided that she has seen Europe and will forego any other destinations.)

I completed my first triathlon in 2013.  I say "first" because I had a ball (and a bawl - it's on video) and I intend to do others.  I'm anxiously combing the websites for 2014 dates.

 I also did two bike events last year.  The first was 16 miles which I was extremely proud of since I was on a borrowed bike and decided about a month before the event that I was going to participate.  The second was a 50 miler.  Half of the Big Dam Bridge 100.  What made that even more special was that for probably the first time since we were on a swim team together, Andrea and I were in the same sporting event.  She did the full 100 miles.  I know my limits.  I even have the one picture of the two of us together before it started.  Mom managed to see both of us as we rode and we gave her framed pictures of us together and our individual pictures crossing the finish line.  (Side note - Billy's reaction to Mom opening the present was to ask what made us think she would want pictures of us on our bikes?  It's a mom thing.)

Billy and I took our two annual trips and had wonderful, peaceful times.  No stress (equate that with no hurricanes while we were away) and no outside worries.  We just packed up and left.  Both trips are for events that require us to put the cell phones away and lose ourselves in the moment.  Our two favorite weeks of the year.

Our family stayed fairly constant in size in 2013.  2011 and 2012 were both marked by significant losses, and a population explosion of grandsons for my uncle (3 in one year's time!), but we didn't really gain or lose anyone this year.  No funerals.  I like consistency.  There were some births on the Rodgers side of the family but we're all so spread out (geographically, chronologically) that those seem a little harder to track. 

So 2013 came and went without a ton a fanfare, which was good for me.  That is not to say it was without its trials and tribulations.  Some things cut pretty deeply and there is seemingly no end to my stress at work. 

But I have work.  Others don't.  

In my life I am surrounded by people I love and that return that love to me.  Many aren't that fortunate.  I come home every day to a Herd that acts as if I've been gone an eternity, even if I only went out to check the mailbox.  I love getting my face slurped!  No matter the events of the day, you cannot be in a bad mood in this house for long.  You have to leave it on the porch because these furballs will bring a smile to your face.  Some people never get to experience that true unconditional love - from man or animal.

I am blessed, and I know it.  I try my best to say Thank You every night.  (I never forget but sometimes I'm so exhausted at night that I'm asleep before I can even get started on all for which I have say thanks.)

It is sometimes a chore to remind myself to be happy.  You wouldn't think so, but it can be.  I have to stop and take stock every once in a while and remind myself that work will always be there and people will always disappoint and situations may not always go according to my plan.  But things will always go according to the Higher Plan and for that I am grateful, and happy.

So Happy New Year to one and all!  I hope that 2014 finds me here a little more often.  This is part of what makes me happy.  I didn't write enough in 2013 - but I did get some interesting reaction to some of what I did write. 

And that makes me happy.

And I now understand.  Time flies.  And it goes too fast to spend a lot of it on things that don't make you happy.  It is finite.  I commented one time, many years ago, that I didn't have time for something (since I was talking to Andrea it was probably exercise-related) and she commented that I had the same 24 hours in a day as everyone else.  Very true.  It is all in how you decide to spend yours.

(Remember, work will always be there.)

Au Revoir, 2013!  You were a very good year.

Bonjour 2014!  Can't wait to see what you bring!

Forgiveness: The Gift You Give Yourself.

Anyone that reads this very often realizes that I have been through some struggles in the last year and half or so.  Things too personal to put out here, but things that were shaping my life on all levels.  I had been extremely hurt by some people that I thought never would, and I was really dealing with that.

We all hurt people we love.  Rarely do we intend it.  But it does happen.  And if you are in any kind of relationship at all with someone, those hurts hurt.  If you aren't in a relationship then you usually blow it, and maybe the person, off and move on.

This particular string of events for me, and it was that -  a series of hurts that just kept compounding on themselves, left me very angry.

Very angry. 

Angry that this person could say and do these things.  And seemingly without conscience.

Angry that someone else that I love very much was wounded beyond measure by these events.

Angry that the actions of these other people were dictating things in my life.  Things that were very important to me.  Selfish, I know, but I resented it on so many levels.

Angry that years devoted to these relationships was cast aside in really a very short time.

Just angry.

And I found that anger consuming me and my day.  I thought about the situation all the time.  I let it effect some very important aspects of my life.  I was in a perpetual state of upset.

Someone asked me why I was allowing all of that to dictate to me.  Why was I giving these people this much power over my life?  Why was I making decision to do and not do things based on what was going on with a relatively small group of people.  My priest asked why I would allow the "SOBs to steal my peace".  (I have fairly straightforward priest.)

Why?

A very good question.  One for which I had no good answer at the time.  I was upset and I was going to stay that way.  The whole situation was not going to change.  The players involved were going to see to that.  But these were people that I was supposed to like and care about and have in my life.  I was struggling to reconcile the reality with what I thought I was acceptable.

But I could change.

After all, the only person I could control in this whole mess was me.

After a time I found what I could consider "forgiveness". 

I started by forgiving those I felt had wronged us.  That is really tough to do when there has been no apology.  No request for forgiveness.  Just an empty space in our lives that I had "forgive". 

 Then I forgave myself. 

And that was a very necessary step to healing.

I had to forgive myself for all the hard feelings that I harbored and then felt guilty about.  I had to understand that the world is not always rainbows and roses. I had to accept that not everyone is going to like me and that is okay.  I have absolutely no control over that.  I can only be myself and if the other person isn't happy about who am I then I really don't need them in my life.  Even if the societal conventions of the day say they are "supposed to be".  I had a very black and white view of the world and these players in it and it wasn't panning out that way.  That's not to say this was a gray area.

There was no gray.  None.

I guess it was more of a case of things I viewed on one side of the line ended up being on the other side.  White became black.

I had to say that it was okay to be angry.  Anger is a God-given emotion.  It is what we do with that anger and how we process it that makes the difference.  We can allow it to destroy us - eating away at the healthy relationships and good things in our lives; act on it which can destroy our very beings; or process the feeling and put it away.

 I had to say to myself that feeling as I did - angry, betrayed, disappointed. disillusioned, broken - was all perfectly normal, acceptable reactions to the situation but they were merely that - feelings.  They couldn't be guiding forces.   My values and morals had to continue to guide my actions, or inactions.  They, in and of themselves, were not going to change anything one iota.  I had to stick to my guns, what I knew to be right, and let the chips fall where they may with the other parties.

That "letting go" of all those emotions was a way of giving myself forgiveness.  Of saying, yes, you have wasted a lot of time and energy on a situation that isn't going to change but you won't let it effect the rest of your life.  I forgive you for the lost time.

None of this I did with a real consciousness of purpose.  I sort of woke up one day and realized that this issue that had been all-consuming for months, permeating every minute of my days and a lot of nights, was not longer as ever-present.  I thought about it less.  Actually didn't think about it all on some days.  So the forgiveness was not overt, but it had to be there.  Without that acceptance I don't think I could have moved forward.

Some might think I'm confusing forgiveness with acceptance, and you'd have a good argument.  But I think the two go hand in hand.  Without accepting the situation, or whatever it is that has you bugged, for what it is and accepting that it may never change but your reaction to it can, then I don't think you can forgive.

Webster's Dictionary defines to forgive as follows:

for·give  [ fər gív ]

 

1.   to stop being angry about something: to stop being angry about or resenting somebody or somebody's behavior

2.  pardon somebody: to excuse somebody for a mistake, misunderstanding, wrongdoing, or inappropriate behavior

How can you stop being angry unless of two things has happened - either the situation has changed or you've accepted it for what it is and are willing to move on?

The gift of forgiveness was truly for myself.  The other parties have no idea.  I never called them and said "I forgive you".  But it was a gift.  I got my life back.  My health improved.  My mood certainly improved.  I started doing things again that made me happy and moved out of that space.  (Some might think I need to call and have that conversation to truly have closure but I don't think so.  I do not have to live in a world where I like everyone and everyone likes me.  We're all made different.  We do have to coexist.  And you can love someone without liking them.  I firmly believe that.  I can love my neighbor as myself without all the strings).

As my priest would say, I had peace again.

I only wish I had done it sooner.  I lost some valuable time.

And besides, who doesn't like to receive a gift?  Even if it from yourself.

They Earn It

NOTE>  I started this post on March 9, 2009, but never finished and posted it.  In rereading it today, it still seems applicable.  Only differences are that Riley gets his meds four times a day instead of three and there are seven other dogs watching, as of this writing.

If Big Brother is really watching, I'll probably get in trouble for this one, but here goes.

Having a dog with seizures means that he gets special treatment. He takes medicine three times a day and gets extra low calorie treats since we have to keep his weight under control. Since he thinks he's starving to death all the time, he is subject to get his extra treats (green beans and canned pumpkin) fairly frequently. But, as long as he's full, everyone is happy.

Having six other dogs in the house means a whole lot of eyes staring at you wondering why they aren't getting something also. You can't explain to them that the little piece of hot dog he just got was stuffed with his pills. They don't get it. They run to the bowl to see if there is a green bean or scrap of pumpkin left. Then they stare at you some more.

The more I watch our leaders at work, the more I think of my animals. All these stimulus bills and bail outs. Its almost as if everyone is adding something to the pot because they don't understand why they aren't special too. Why can't they have a billon dollars for their project, so and so in the next state over got some?

Gosh Mom, there's plenty of treats in that jar. Why can't I have one?

Gosh Treasury, you can print all the money you want, why can't I have some?

For some reason a few days ago I was thinking about all the bailouts and the way our tax dollars are being spent like Monopoly money. The people spending it won't be around to pay it back so there aren't any consequences for their decisions. John Houseman and the Smith Barney commercial came to mind - They make money the old-fashioned way. They earn it.

No one is earning it right now. Automakers are asking for millions and billions. Congressmen are asking for millions and billions. And the government just seems to want to keep handing it out. Sure, they talk about conditions and so forth, but they don't do anything about it, really.

Nope, nothing has changed.  Our national debt is out of control because of spending and our Congress' inability to work together - as a team.  Lots of talk, no action.  No one wants to play nicely in the sandbox.  It's all do-it-my-way-or-I'll-take-my-toys-and-go-home.

Sad, really.  Greatest nation in the world and you'd never know it by looking.  More and more people are lining up with their hands out.  And why not?  The government is not only making it easy to get assistance, they are encouraging it.  As Billy and I have discussed more than once lately, the only thing keeping us from doing the same is our personal pride.  I'd love to stay home and write all day.  I'd have a whole lot less stress and I'd finally get to see what a Saturday in early spring looks like instead of having to work 7 days a week for months on end.  An early retirement, if you will.

But we don't.  We work, and work hard, for everything we have and everything we still want.  We don't live overly extravagantly but we enjoy ourselves and do what we want, when we can afford it.  Sometimes that takes planning but we do it.

We earn it.

And we can look at everything we have with pride and satisfaction of knowing that we did it the old-fashioned way.  

The Forgotten Holiday

I have long pitied Thanksgiving.  It seems to me to be the Rodney Dangerfield of holidays.

It gets no respect.

It was a slow process at first.  But slowly and surely, Christmas started to follow Halloween.  Now, it even proceeds that in some cases.

George Washington declared November 26, 1789, as a "day of public thanksgiving and prayer to be observed by acknowledging with grateful hearts the many and signal favours of Almighty God".  The fourth Thursday in November was later fixed by Abraham Lincoln as the official day for Thanksgiving across the United States.  The origins and basis of the holiday are somewhat disputed, but many will include the original settlers to America, the Pilgrims, as the founders.  They gave thanks for a great harvest after a somewhat rocky start in the New World.

No matter the origins, when it comes to celebrating a holiday, Thanksgiving is just different.

But why?

It isn't a gift-giving holiday like Easter or Christmas or Hanukkah.  It isn't a religious holiday, either.   So there is no commercialism to aggravate those that that wish we would remember the Christ in Christmas and no crosses or nativity scenes to draw the ire of the atheists.  It doesn't specify one segment of society over another (does anyone but me ever wonder why the world closes for the observation of Christmas Eve and Christmas day for the Christian holiday but not one day of the eight for Hanukkah or for Yom Kippur for our Jewish counterparts?) nor does it have any really stringent "musts" as far as the propriety of celebration go.  Almost anything goes in that department.  We used to have Thanksgiving dinner in a hotel room at the Tom Penny Inn before walking to Cowboy Stadium and watching football.  The only real point was that we were together as a family.

It does not require anything more than simply stopping for one day to reflect on our blessings and be thankful for them.  No matter whether or not you believe in God or any other Higher Power you can still be thankful - for your health; for having employment; for those you love; for the ability to smell the flowers, hear the music of your children's laughter, see the sunshine reflecting off water, feel the softness of your loved one's kiss and taste the sweetness of lovingly prepared food.

It should be single-most favored holiday across the board.  It doesn't have any elements that disagree with anyone!

So why does it get so short changed?   People can't wait to clear the dishes on Thursday and pull out the Christmas decorations.  Some start that night.  Black Friday, the massive shopping day for Christmas is starting to encroach on Thursday.  Many stores were open Thursday evening, others opening at Midnight - shifting the focus of the true meaning of the day to getting ready for that night's adventure.  I heard people talking about having to go the grocery store and shop for the big meal, having to cook so many pies and side dishes, having to get up early because they had to drive a distance to see their family.

I'd like to borrow my cousin's blog theme and remind people you don't HAVE to, you GET TO.  You may need to go to the grocery store because you get to prepare food for those you love.  You may need to get on the road early because you get to spend the day with your family.  Reminding us that not everyone is so blessed.

Of course, we should be thankful every day, and Christmas should live in our hearts year 'round, but we aren't always.  There shouldn't need to be a reminder by setting aside a day.  But the day is there and I'd like to embrace it.  I know a lot of people on Facebook listed one thing every day they were thankful for, up until yesterday.  I'm not so public about things like that but I did give it some thought.  I have been truly blessed and I know it.  I try to say a prayer of thanks every day.

Can I change things? No.  I'm not going to get Wal-mart to not play Christmas music and set up trees before Halloween.  Christmas is a huge profit generator for the retail industry and the sooner they can get consumers to think about it the more they may sell - maybe not, but it is worth the gamble to the big players. All I can control are my actions and reactions.

And possibly give some food for thought for you.

Food that doesn't have to peeled, chopped, mixed, baked, roasted or served.

Are you giving the day of Thanksgiving all it deserves?

Not So "Gentle" Reminders

The United States received several reminders on Monday.

As everyone knows by now, terrorists detonated two bombs at the finish line of the Boston Marathon.  Yes, I called them terrorists.  They commited an act intended to inflict terror.  Has nothing to do with where they are from or what they look like.

We were instantly reminded that we are still very vulnerable.  Despite all our best efforts since September 11, 2001, we are still vulnerable to terrorism.  Two men walked down the street, dropped their backpacks on the ground and walked away.  Minutes later, three are dead and hundreds were wounded.  An eight year boy, a Chinese student, and a young female waitress - gone.  In literally a puff of smoke.

We are also reminded that we have successfully avoided this situation many times before.  I daresay we do not even know how many times a potentially devasting event was thwarted.  If you see something, say something.  A simple phrase, but effective.

Sadly, it also took an event like this to remind us that we are all humans and we come together for each other when needed.  Runners stopped running and spectators stopped watching and started helping and doctoring -  carrying out the injured, applying tourniquets, calming the wounded.  Anything they felt they could do.

 It was no longer a race, but a race against time.

Much like September 11, for that moment in time, we were all just Americans.  Angry, ticked off Americans.  Not Democrat or Republican.  Not liberal or conservative.  Not Yankee or Southern.  Just neighbors helping neigbors.

I know I've asked before, but why does it take this kind of reminder?  Why can't we all continue to live with the spirit in which we currently find ourselves?  Why do we allow ourselves to be attacked, invaded, wounded,  knocked to the ground before we step up and stand shoulder to shoulder with our fellow man?    Is this what it takes to get citizens to stand up and sing our National Anthem?  Do we need this type of a reminder to reach out to our fellow man and reach with an open hand and not a closed fist?

I have to wonder why they chose this event.  I guess because of the crowd, but there are lots of events that could have been targeted.  As I alluded to earlier, maybe larger events have been unsucessfully targeted.   As a new runner, it does bother me.  I would love to say I hope to qualify for the Boston Marathon someday.  (A stretch, I know, but I'd at least like to watch it at some point.)

But, as a friend pointed out, I do believe it is symbolic that the bombs went off at the Finish Line.  Starting a race is pretty cool;  finishing one is awesome.  Crossing that line - first, tenth, fiftieth, doesn't matter - is a feeling unlike any other.  It is an accomplishment.   As I commented, it is an "I really did it!' moment.  The terrorists took away that accomplishment.  They stopped a major event and temporarily crippled the United States.

Crippled, but not paralyzed.

Our annual family girl's trip this summer is to Boston.  Been planned for many months now.  I want to go and stand in that space.  Feel the American Spirit present.  Same as Billy and I visit Ground Zero in New York.  To be reminded.  

Reminded that when the chips are down there is no one else I'd rather have by my side than a fellow American.  Reminded that not everyone in the world loves us and our way of life and it is solely up to us to protect it.  Reminded that some people have no regard for human life but we can make sure that no loss of life is in vain.  We can and will bounce back, and do so even stronger.

And if any more terrorists groups forget that, we will be happy to remind them.

Giving Up

Since college, I have observed Lent by giving up something and, later, by eliminating meat on Fridays.  If it ever came up in conversation, I was often met with "you must be Catholic". 

No, I wasn't.  I was a plain, ole', ordinary Methodist.  But I liked the Catholic Church's take on the whole thing.

It was always somewhat surprising to me that people I considered learned didn't seem to realize that Lent is a season on the CHRISTIAN calendar, not just a Catholic thing.

Lent is the time from Ash Wednesday to Easter Sunday.  It is a time of penance and reflection and an opportunity to get yourself "right" spirituality before the feast of the Resurrection.  Part of this process has always been "sacrificing" something as a part of your penance.  Most people will give up chocolate, or desserts, or alcohol, or something else in a similar vein.

But it really should be more meaningful than that.  These are supposed to be lifetime changes.  Stop and think for a minute what we are really talking about.  Jesus committed the ultimate sacrifice.  He died.  For us and for our sins.  After his 40 days were up he didn't get to go back to his old life like we all will.  Now, most would argue that his sacrifice resulted in the greatest gift.  He, as well as all of us that believe, received eternal life for his sacrifice.  Who would want to go back to their ordinary life with that promise in front of you as a reward?

Shouldn't our sacrifices result in something more positive than a caffeine headache that lasts for days?

I'm not being judgmental about anyone that gives up something they love.  It isn't my place.  But I'd like to toss out the challenge to take it to the next level.

Giving up chocolate?  Why not take the bags of candy you aren't eating to a food pantry as a sweet treat for those whose food budget is more focused on the basics?  No more coffee?  Why not donate the $4 a latte per day savings to a animal shelter or a charity of choice?  Foregoing Facebook?  How will you spend those hours that you aren't online?  Will you make it a priority to reconnect with your spouse or children or maybe volunteer those hours at a nursing home or hospital?  Maybe you need to repair a relationship. Perhaps freeing your heart of ill-will is your penance. You may just need to take an internal inventory and rid yourself of the feelings and issues that are now obsolete.

My point is this - make your sacrifice a positive in the life of someone else.  Just like Jesus' sacrifice was a positive for the rest of mankind.  Make it a positive for you as well.  And it doesn't always have to be "giving up".  You can actually "add to".  Make it a point to send your grandmother a card once a week.  Drive your elderly neighbor on their errands. Spend 30 minutes a day exercising to help your physical being.  Doing something like that results in your sacrifice of some of your free time, but you will be making such a difference in the lives of others.

And isn't that what this season is all about?

The Slippery Slope

Times change.  Some changes are better than others.

I don't think anyone who reads this blog with any regularity will be surprised to hear that I consider myself to be fairly conservative.  Fiscally and socially.  I give thought to issues and try to view all angles before I take a side.  I have occasionally surprised people with some stands I've taken, but that is probably rare.

Society has given me much to mull in the last few years.  Some days more than others.

The hot topic today is gun control.  It has saturated the media since the tragedy in Connecticut on Friday, December 14, 2012.  That Friday saw a horrible, horrible event.  It was the second incident in that week.  The fourth or fifth this year.

Utterly senseless violence.

I believe only one of the victims in this whole year actually knew their murderer -  and that was Adam Lanza's mother, Nancy - and none had done anything other than go to work, to school, shopping, to worship, or to enjoy a movie.  And every time it happens the same discussions crop up.

Discussions.  No answers, no actions.

Here is where I may take a turn for some of you.

I was not raised with guns.  To my knowledge there was not one in the house in which I grew up.  My Papaw had them out on the farm, but I don't know where he kept them.  My uncle and cousins hunt, but that's as close as it gets to me.  Billy doesn't hunt.  I don't like guns and I have never wanted one.

You might think with that lead in that I would be encouraging the ban of all guns.

You would be wrong.

My position is that it is not the guns that are the problem but the hands holding them.  And you will come back the argument that the hands wouldn't matter if the access were restricted.

Cars are deadly in the hands of a drunk driver.  Do we ban cars?

No.  We try to educate the drivers and remove them from the situation.  Try to get them to face their underlying problem and seek help.

Why aren't we focusing more on the shooters in these cases?  Obviously the people committing these crimes are not well mentally.  Stable, well-adjusted people do not take up arms, even though they have access to them, and blow away innocent children and their teachers.  They don't dye their hair orange and open fire on a movie theater.

They just don't.

So how have we gotten to this point?

Guns have been accessible for hundreds of years but we only started hearing about these massacres with any regularity since Columbine in 1999.  I know there were earlier events but those were anomalies.  What we're experiencing now is becoming the rule.

What has changed?

Lots of things.  Most all of which are societal issues.

Media coverage.  Violent video games. Social isolation with the advent of Facebook and Twitter.  Families are fractured.  The communities in which we live have changed.  Do you know your neighbors?  If not, you would have 40 years ago.

I don't think any one of these is the problem.  I think it's part of the landslide that is growing into an avalanche in what is deemed acceptable these days.

Video games started with Pong and Mario Brothers, Donkey Kong and Frogger and Galaga.  Climbing buildings.  Shooting aliens.  Trying to dodge cars while getting a frog across a street.  Simple games that provided a litte escape and a change of pace on a rainy Sunday afternoon.  You didn't have online games centered around characters immitating soliders, or worse yet, gangsters.  Young people are playing these games for hours on end.  Becoming desensitized to the violence permeating their worlds.

Ah, so now you think I want to ban video games.

Again, you would be wrong.  I don't want anyone (read that as "government") telling me what to do.  I am all about personal responsibility.  If I mess up, it is my mistake.  A mistake I can only make if I have access to all things legal.  Instead, I would encourage people to not support the makers of these   games.  I would beg the media not to glorify the actions of these killers.  It might only stop one gloryhound but isn't one better than none?

I look around and see what is "ok" and I'm shocked, and saddened, sometimes.   Why is it acceptable for unwed teenage mothers to have their own "reality show"?  What is entertaining about toddler beauty pageants and the mothers that push them?

Until we, as a civilized society, start putting our collective foot down and demanding some common
decency we are going to continue to see these kinds of tragedies.  We've gone so far down the slope that I worry we can even work our way back up.  We worry about bruising a child's fragile ego instead of setting hard boundaries for their behavior.  Divorced parents overcompensate  by indulging their children so they will continue to love them.   And the children learn to play one against the other and get what they want.  Or they find themselves alone for hours after school and become influenced by these shows and games.

We have to take our country back.  And that is not a political statement.  It is a judgment on our society.

Now I know what you're thinking again - what do you know about raising children?  Have you tried it lately?  No, I haven't.  And frankly, I wouldn't want to attempt it in today's world.  I only know that it something doesn't change, we will have no one to blame but ourselves.  The limits of acceptable behavior that our grandparents and their parents and grandparents observed are almost nonexistent. 

 If anything goes, then everything will. 

Message Sent. Received?

This is not going to be a post about rehashing the election.  Quite frankly, I'm glad the whole thing is over.  And I would ask that if you want to comment, that you don't rehash it either.  I have friends on both sides of the aisle and I'm not looking to challenge, offend, or anything else to anyone.  And my focus for this is on the popular vote, not the electoral college.   My thoughts on the electoral college are for another post on another day.

Here's what I do want to say. 

Yesterday a message was sent.  Sent to whomever ultimately won the election  -  incumbant or challenger.  Unlike in some past elections, this was not a "landslide victory". 

Yes, one side won.

But when you really look at the numbers of people that turned out and how close the margins were in many of the states you have to take step back and look at the bigger picture.  It shouldn't be about winning or losing.  It should be about listening.

Roughly half of the population in these United States of America were sending the message that they were disappointed in the performance of the last four years.  And frankly, that goes to the entire Administration.  They are disappointed in a Congress that couldn't even work together long enough to pass a budget.  In the State of Mississippi, if a County or Municipality starts work on Day One of the new fiscal year without having adopted a budget under which to work they are in violation of State Law. 

Plain and simple.

They were disappointed in the inability to get some things done because we've become so partisan that it seems as if no one thinks for themselves anymore.  Each side reads from the script they've been handed and that's it. 

Robots could do that.

I don't want to hear about Hope and Change.  I was to see Cooperation and Results.  I don't want to hear about what you couldn't do but tell me, collectively, what you will do. 

Again, this has nothing to do with who won the election.  No matter what happened yesterday, HALF of this country was disappointed.

Half.

That is a whole lotta folks that need to be made happy.  And it was going to be that way no matter what.  Mr. Obama won and will have to figure out how to compromise with the folks that want things different.  If Mr. Romney had won, he would have to plan a way to make changes without losing the folks that wanted things to stay the same.

Ultimately, we are all citizens and we're all in this together.  Win, lose or draw.

Looking back does nothing to move us forward. 

I've said it here before, but voting is such a privilege.  And one that shouldn't be taken lightly.  It was such a big deal in our home when I was growing up.  Going to the polls was a family affair.  I can remember the excitement of going into the polling booth, pushing the levers next the names that whichever parent I was with pointed to, and that real sense of power in pulling back that big red handle that opened the curtain and cast the ballot.

I felt that same power on Tuesday, only it is electronic now.  I touched the squares next to the names I chose and then the big, green Cast Ballot button that made my voice heard.

This is a tough time in our country.  It isn't the first and I know it won't be the last.  But in the immortal words of Abraham Lincoln, borrowed from the Holy Bible, "A house divided against itself cannot stand."  His words were spoken in a different time about a different subject, but the tenet remains true.  If this country is divided half in two, then we will not only not progress, but actually regress.

Lincoln went on to say "I do not expect the Union to be dissolved - I do not expect the house to fall - but I do expect it will cease to be divided."

We would do well to listen.  That doesn't mean one side must give in to the other without question.  I'm not naive enough to believe that half the country would just up and change their minds about how they feel.  It means that we must find a way to come together and meet on common ground.  There has to be some, somewhere.

We have to understand the true meaning of compromise.

Because we are a divided house.  The election proved that.  And without effort from both sides we will fall.  Our Founding Fathers hundreds of years ago understood this.  They didn't all agree on how to achieve their ultimate goal, but the goal was the same.  Independence.  Freedom from England.  A cause for which they would live, and die.

We don't have such major issues as freedom and slavery at stake right now, and thankfully so, but we do have significant differences that need to be addressed.

The citizens sent a strong message on November 6.  I just hope it was received.

Character Counts

I think I've touched on this before, but I'm really bothered by this.

Webster's Dictionary defines character as the aggregate of features and traits that form the individual nature of some person or thing; moral or ethical quality.

I saw it defined on a poster once as "what you do when no one is watching".

What I seem to be seeing more and more is a lack of character.

Look at Arnold Schwarzenegger. Married 25 years to a lovely lady only to finally confess to not only an affair but to fathering a child in that affair.  Confessed when confronted.

Take Bobby Petrino, former head coach of the Arkansas Razorback football team.  Caught out with a young lady after a motorcycle accident, lied about it, and then lied about compensation and other issues related to her when that story started to unravel.

Politicians are "tweeting" nude photos of themselves to women.

I was raised with one Golden Rule - always be on your best behavior because you never know who is watching.

And Mom and Dad meant it.

And since my sister is my mother's mini-me, it was serious.

I never wanted to do anything to disappoint either of them.  Still don't.  And I know my dad is watching from up above so nothing is going unnoticed.

What I guess people don't always think through are the unintended consequences of their actions.  In the case of Bobby Petrino, his actions forced the Arkansas Athletic Director to make an extremely difficult decision.  When AD Jeff Long held his press conference to announce Petrino's dismissal, he had tears in his eyes and was very emotional.  And I supported his decision wholeheartedly. At that point, the Razorback team themselves were ranked preseason number 8, but fell quickly after the first few games - the Shock in Little Rock when UL-Monroe beat them in overtime and the the 52-0 shellacking by Alabama - when they didn't have their regular coach and the replacement coach had only had a few months.

I was floored, and saddened, by the number of my friends that started calling for Bobby's reinstatement at that point.

First of all, irrespective of the money it generates for the school, it is a game.  Him being the head coach was not a life and death position.  But it was more important to a lot of people to have a liar as the head coach if it meant winning a football game.

Winning was more prized than character.

Now I know Coach Petrino didn't intend for that downward spiral to happen, but often our actions have far reaching and unexpected results.  He let down those young men that had looked up to and mentored under him.  They were broken.  They weren't a team at that moment, they were a group of individuals on the field looking for guidance.

I can't imagine the humiliation that public figures, like Maria Shriver, have to endure when someone in their family publicly allows their character to take a vacation.  We see it everyday on the news.  And sometimes they just continue to do things in out in the open - like writing books about their exploits.

Lack of character just morphs into bad behavior.

I think, for me at least, part of the problem is that these lapses in judgement get inappropriately glorified.  We hear the stories on 67 of the 121 channels on television and see it splashed across the covers of tabloid magazines.  Persons of true character, after such lapses, should quietly and privately work to repair the damage they caused.  Not pile on with more and more bad decisions.

Everything we do is noticed by someone, somewhere.  No matter how hard to we may try to keep something quiet or behind the scenes. Why don't we see the "good stuff" on the cover of People Magazine? They have sections on the inside of Heroes Among US and stories about real people doing good things in their communities. Instead, we get the latest celebrity unwed mother, or divorce, or cheating scandal.

We place too much attention on the wrong stuff.

How to change it?  I have no idea.  We can't, realistically, turn off the television.  We don't have to buy magazines, I suppose, but if we don't we will miss the positive stories hidden inside the covers.

All we can do is live by example, and hope someone is watching.

Finding My Joy

I have been a little absent of late.  Don't know if any of you missed me or not.  But I've missed you.

The last year and half have been a struggle for me, on a lot of levels. 

Personal losses and deaths seemed to be a far too regular occurrence for a while.  Stresses at work were taking a toll on what time I had open.  Busy season stretched on endlessly for months as our clients all seemed to be struggling with the same kind of molasses that was holding everyone back.  Work trickled in late and then had to be flooded out in record time.  Elections, at all levels; local, state, and federal, were, and still are, going on and the campaigning was so negative.  And in a small town it always involves someone you know.  So my heart was hurting for a while.  I just seemed to be wrapped in a pall of gloom.

I had plenty of topics about which to write.  I would come home and start a post based on something I'd seen or heard.  And I keep a handwritten notebook of phrases I want to use that pop into my head.

But I wouldn't finish them. 

What I found, is that they were all too negative.  It seemed like every subject about which I was going to expound was so dark and dreary and negative.

So I made the conscious decision to not give those negative thoughts and words "life".  And that is exactly what I would have been doing if I had ever hit that Publish button.  My words would then be out in the open for everyone to see, and it was not a side of me that I wanted to put out there.  I just couldn't let them take on a life of their own.

We all have negative thoughts.  We all have better days than others.  I wasn't trying to hide anything or pretend to be something I'm not.  But I can usually find something good to say to balance out the ugliness I see in the world.

But I was seeing myself at a point where those balacing words just weren't coming.

I had lost a lot of joy in my life and was merely dealing with getting up and getting through each day.

But I have been on a hunt.  Much like an Easter egg hunt I have been trying to find my Joy.  One of my biggest joys is sitting at this computer and writing.  So I am working on it - again.

I decided to keep all those topics that I had listed  -  and you will see them.  But they will be balanced now.  Because what I wanted to say and what I was seeing in the world needed to be discussed.  But they are tempered now.  Because all in the world is not bad.  It's all in your perspective and how you allow yourself to process the information.

So, ready or not, here I come!

I Did It!! Parts I and II

I don't often copy posts from one blog to the other, but these two were posts are from my Losing It! blog and I thought they would fit here as well. They are more than just about losing weight and getting fit - they have a message about setting goals and overcoming obstacles and never giving up or giving in.

They were posted by me on May 20 and May 23, 2012. Hope you enjoy.


First 5K in the books!

I know what some of you are thinking, big deal, 3.1 miles. Not like it's a marathon or anything (maybe next year!). But for me, it was huge.

When I was growing up, with asthma, sometimes just going outside was a death sentence. I didn't even have to do anything to have an attack - just be standing in the grass or the beanfield. If I actually tried to run or play too hard, there I'd go. Off to Dr. Stroop's office! I truly owe that man my life.

I've written about it before, but I would get so upset by things that I physically couldn't do, but that were expected. Everyone had to go out at recess. Everyone had to participate in Field Day in elementary school. In the sixth grade we played softball and it was hard for them to find a position for me. But Daddy came and watched anyway. I couldn't hit, run, field the ball or anything else. In the fifth grade, there was the President's Challenge, or some such thing. The Challenge was to be able to do a specific set of exercises within a given time frame. Daddy and I worked and worked and worked on it. I think I might have earned the White patch - which was the lowest level - but it was hard. I still can't throw a softball. But I also remember thinking that it wasn't "fair" that I had to run and stuff like the other kids when my body wouldn't let me.

"Fair" is where you go to ride rides and eat cotton candy. Life is not fair.

But it is what you make it.

I did learn that with hard work I could achieve my goals.

And I hit one yesterday. Yes, I ran with my inhaler in my hand, just in case. Was going to leave it in the car but Billy just looked at me and asked if I was insane. And I ran knowing that there was no shame in walking if I needed to. Ladies around me were doing it. But I wanted to push as far and as hard as I could.

And that was to the finish line. 37 minutes, 55 seconds.

I checked my log last night. I started training on March 27. At that time, running for one minute straight was a big deal to me. Then a minute and a half. Two minutes. Five minutes. When I ran eight straight minutes I was so excited you would have thought I'd won an Olympic gold medal! And it built and built and built and now I can run over thirty minutes. Straight.

And no, I'm not done. I want to keep moving up the ladder and pushing myself.

Because there is a half-marathon in Mandeville in October with my name on it.



Here's the postscript to last Saturday's Cancer Fun Run.

That morning, I did get up a little early. A few nerves. Couldn't eat. That kind of thing. And I wanted to get there early. Registration and packet pickup started at 7:30 and the Run was 8:30. Billy asked if he was supposed to go with me, since he wasn't ready and I was starting to bounce off the walls by 7:15. I told him he could bring his own car. (Side note: most everywhere we go together we take separate vehicles. He doesn't want to be there and I'm never ready to leave. So this was not unusual on this day.) I waited and finally decided I couldn't wait any longer so I went upstairs to tell him I was leaving. He was almost dressed since he'd decided to go with me, on the provision that I had him back home a little after 9. I had already done the math and told him at 13 minute miles that I needed about 40 minutes and then we could come home.

Which is what we did. I ran, ate a banana and drank some water, visited a minute or two with some people I knew, and we left.

At the office, we start every Monday morning with staff meeting. We go around the table and discuss anything going on that week, work out of the office, sports scores, etc. My partner is always first and he announced to the room that I had completed my first 5K that weekend. Lots of "yea"s from around the table. Then he picked up an envelope and said "But what she doesn't know, because she left too soon on Saturday, is that she won this in her age group" and he pulled out a 3rd place medal.

Could have knocked me over with a feather!

Of course then the jokes started about were there even three people in my age group (yes, my partner - pointing out that he is about 3 months younger than me - got second in our age group and a friend of ours was first).

So yes, the bar is now set high, and hard work is its own reward.

But a medal sure is cool.

The Long Goodbye

Lola Mae Pearl Perkins Bennett
February 12, 1914 - May 2, 2012

Following are the words I spoke at Naunie's funeral.

First, on behalf of my whole family, I want to thank you all for being here today. For those that don’t know me, I am Deanne, Lola Mae’s oldest grandchild.
When Mom first asked me to speak today I was worried about how to start. Where do you begin to cover a life that spanned over 98 years? So many stories and world events have occurred during that time that the task seemed overwhelming. But as I thought about it I realized I should start exactly where we are all sitting today. In this church.
This Methodist Church has been the center of Naunie’s world since Day One. Her family was instrumental in getting the church started here in Carlisle and it played into her life almost daily for so many years.
In 1914 she was christened here. She grew up in this church. At age 16 she joined the choir and in 2002 was given a plaque recognizing 72 years of service to that choir. She would have gone a little longer if her eyes had held out. She loved to sing! And she loved being involved. I remember talking to her once after she left the choir and she remarked on how it took some time to get accustomed to the view from “down here”. She was finally seeing what everyone else had been seeing for all those years. In 1935 she and Papaw were married in this church. Her children, Annette and Billy, were christened here, as were all 5 of her grandchildren and 2 of her 8 great-grandchildren. There could be no better place to start remembering her life than right here.
Some of my favorite memories with Naunie are also wrapped up with this church. Growing up, my sister and I spent a lot of time in Carlisle in the summers, at least some of which was usually scheduled around Vacation Bible School. We made some good friends those summers. Even as a young adult I would come and spend time when I could. One time I recall, was mid-week. I must have been home from college. I had picked a day and asked Naunie if that day was good to come over and visit and spend some time and she said it was fine. Then she remembered it was Circle Day. I told her I didn’t mind going to Circle with her if that would be okay with the group. She thought it would be fine and so we were set. The day comes, I get to Naunie’s house and we head to Circle. I can’t remember now who the hostess was but she opened the door and got the funniest look on her face. I thought for a minute that she didn’t know I was coming. But she looked at Naunie and said “Lola Mae, you said you were bringing your little granddaughter.” I looked past her into the living room and there, in the circle of chairs, was a child’s chair. Clearly too small for me! The hostess had been thinking of Amber, 18 years younger I and a part of this church. An easy mistake to make. To Naunie though, I was still her “little” granddaughter, even at age 20 or 21. The hostess changed out the chairs and I enjoyed the time with the ladies. I remember a few years later going to Bible study with Naunie at “Aunt” Clara’s house. We only had to walk across the street that day. Naunie’s faith was deep and ever present, but not overt. She lived the Word, even if she wasn’t always quoting it.
So many of the things I learned from Naunie, I learned mostly just by watching her. I probably never really knew I was actually learning at the time. She did teach me to knit, but that is one lesson that didn’t take. She started me on a scarf at age 10 and 36 years later it is close to being the size of a potholder. Naunie had a strong sense of community. Most likely from living all her life in this one town. In a small town everyone looks out for one another. Those of you that live here know that can be a blessing, and a curse. Everyone knows your business, but they also know when you need help, what you need and you never have to ask a thing. One Christmas Day, 2008 probably, my Billy and I picked Naunie up and were headed to Mom’s house in Conway for the afternoon. On the way, Naunie told me that her dream had always been to live in Conway, but she’d married that silly ole farmer and stayed in Carlisle. I don’t honestly think she would have ever left even if she’d had the opportunity. And she was married to that “silly ole farmer” for almost 60 years. But more on Papaw later. She loved Carlisle. It was more than home, if that’s possible.
Looking back, it’s amusing now that a lot of those summer visits were actually spent in the car taking people to Little Rock. Doctor’s appointments, visiting the sick in hospitals. It didn’t matter that we’d just come from there, if someone needed to go, Naunie was always willing to drive them. We’d sit in the waiting rooms until it was time to go home again. Might do that 2 or 3 times in the same week. But I learned through that to care for others. To help those who need it if I can. There are lots of things I can’t do, but I should be willing to do what I can. It was very difficult for Naunie when she had to give up driving, and I think some of that stems from this. Not only would she not be able to help anymore, but it meant she’d be one of the ones now needing that help. I know that was hard, we talked about it. I kept reminding her that it was her turn now and she deserved the help from all that she’d done over the years. Still a hard thing to swallow, though. No one likes to see themselves as the taker when they’ve always been the giver. And I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the roses. I remember so many times going out to the store room and looking in the freezer and seeing coffee cans of flowers. Some were hers but others came from the women in the community and Naunie needed to arrange them for a luncheon or party. I remember asking one time where the flowers came from because no one had knocked on the door or anything and she said she didn’t know, but she knew what she needed to do with them. “Helping” her out on one of those visits I learned that green floral foam is not like play-doh and you can’t push your thumbs in it or squish it in your fingers. We had to go get more at the store. She probably wasn’t very happy with me right then, but I never knew it.
I also remember Naunie working the election polls. It struck me one day as I was thinking about all this that women couldn’t vote when Naunie was born. It would be 6 more years before her mother and aunts would be able to do what her father and uncles already could. And I’m sure that Naunie never looked at working at the elections as anything more significant than serving her local community, but it really brings into view just how many things Naunie did witness in her lifetime and how things have changed. World War I broke out just months after Naunie was born. She saw World War II as a young married bride. The Korean War. The Vietnam War, then as the mother of a soldier. Even the Gulf Wars. She saw The Great Depression and food rationing. The world evolved with so many inventions - like automobiles, telephones and television. When she was a young girl, telephones were still fairly rare in homes, usually a party line with your neighbors and a switchboard operator to connect the calls, and all wired to one spot in the house. Televisions weren’t even a thought. Today most all of us silenced a device as we came in that will make calls, send messages, surf the internet and allow you to watch video all in the palm of your hand. We have microwave ovens that fit under cabinets and can heat a meal in minutes. Computer went from an idea to a machine that filled a room and needed punchcards to run to small, laptop devices that we can use in our cars. The world has just changed so much in 98 years that I couldn’t even begin to touch the list of things.
So I learned about having a community spirit. I also learned about family from Naunie. I’d like to share a couple of my favorite “lessons” in this department. Here’s the first one. As I said before, this church was Naunie’s life. We used to joke that if the church doors were open, she was here. She even had a key in case she needed to be the one that did the opening. And for the most part, we lived in a similar vein. Andrea and I sang in the children and youth choirs growing up, rarely missed UMYF on Sunday nights, Mom and Dad taught Sunday school more than once. But I remember one Sunday morning that we slept in. I have no idea why and it isn’t important. But we didn’t get up for church. Naunie called that morning, early. We normally attended the 8:30 service at Lakewood so it was probably before 8 when the phone rang. I was the only one up so I answered it. Not being skilled yet in the “art of the dance” I told Naunie that Mom was still asleep. I was told to wake her. A few minutes later Mom walked back into the kitchen where I was and told me to not ever tell Naunie again if we weren’t going to church. The lesson there, you are always your mother’s child and never too old to get in trouble. Little white lies were okay in some circumstances. Two of my other favorite family memories involve my Papaw. As I said before, they were married almost 60 years. On the day of the celebration of their 50 anniversary, we were gathered at the house waiting for the guests to arrive for a reception. I picked up the big family Bible and was leafing through the pages where the family events were recorded. As I started reading I saw it – Lola Mae Pearl Perkins. I remarked aloud, “Naunie, I didn’t know you had a middle name.” I’d always just thought Mae was her middle name. My Papaw had been standing near and when I said that he whipped around and looked at me, total surprise written all over his face! He hadn’t known either! The lesson, a little mystery is a good thing! After all those years together, Papaw could still learn something about Naunie. Lastly, if you knew Papaw, you know he always used a two-handed handshake when greeting someone, or for us family, a two-armed hug. Rarely did you get one of those one-armed side things. And he greeted everyone, smile on his face, laughing, happy. One time, Naunie was in the hospital, don’t remember now when or for what, and I went to visit. I remember going by myself so I was probably in college. When I arrived, Naunie was propped up in her bed, there were a few visitors in the room, but Papaw was not there. I hadn’t been there long when arrived and I remember this just as clearly as if it happened this morning. He walked into the room, eyes on Naunie and Naunie only. He headed straight to her bed; both hands out as he walked, took both her hands in his and leaned in and gave her a kiss. I’m pretty certain that is the one and only time I ever saw them kiss each other. But for those few seconds, there was not only no one else in that room as far as Papaw was concerned, there was no one else in the whole world. He shut everyone out and gave all his focus to her. After that, he turned and started talking to and greeting everyone else in the room. I can remember so vividly thinking “I want to find that someday”. As a hopelessly romantic teen I think it was a good lesson that I recognized I didn’t have “it” then. I learned the importance of family. I can remember many times missing events with friends because we were headed to Carlisle to eat fish at Murray’s. But it was a part of what we did and who we were. I believe that commitment to family is still there.
I want to share one last thing. Christmas 2010. In a rare occurrence that all 5 of us grandkids were together out at the farm on Christmas Eve. Almost like the old days except there are more of us now – all of us married and, at that time, there were 5 great-grands and one on the way. By now Naunie was no longer living on her own so she wasn’t there with us. It was an evening of food, fun and family. And then the cameras came out and it was time for pictures. As happens sometimes when we start to take pictures, all the family resemblances start to get pointed out. If you need help with where this is going, I didn’t get any of them. I can’t count the times I came to Carlisle and heard “You must look like your dad.” I didn’t get the height, obviously, and I wasn’t born with this blond hair. And it all becomes fun and we’re joking around about it but then LaQuita leaned in close and said something no one else could hear. I hope she doesn’t mind me sharing it today. She looked me right in the eye and said “But you got Naunie’s heart, I can see it.” How much more blessed could I be? That is by far the greatest family resemblance I could ever ask for.
So, while we are all sitting in this church saying goodbye to a woman who meant so much to everyone here, I want to share my vision I have, not of goodbye, but hello. Just like in the hospital that day, it is my Papaw, only this time he is walking through the gates of Heaven, still with both arms stretched out to take her hands into his, leaning in to give her a kiss and saying “Welcome Home”.




I labeled this post "The Long Goodbye" because that is what it was. As Andrea noted, Naunie did something few people get to do anymore, die of old age. In today's environment it seems like disease or disaster get you first.

The last few years were hard. Two years ago Naunie had the first of many strokes and at that time we had to put her a nursing home. We had wanted her to remain in her own home as long as possible. I heard countless times "Naunie's not doing good", only to hear that the next day she was sitting up and taking names! But towards the true end we all wondered why she was still with us, physically anyway. What was holding her here? Why hadn't God called her Home already? What was the point of her being here? Was there a lesson the rest of us were missing?

We may find out someday. But it doesn't matter. She's Home now, where she belongs. And she left a legacy behind to carry on. The minister likened her family members to a different kind of flower that Naunie nurtured and grew like she did her roses.

And I like that. Flowers grow and change. They may get cut back every now and again to help them bloom better and grow stronger the next season. Some get deadheaded to make room for new blossoms, like we sometimes have to shed things in our lives that are keeping the new from coming out.

Her passing was a blessing and I said prayers of thankfulness on that May morning when I got the call. As I said on my Facebook page: her Life was a blessing to us, her passing a blessing to her. Her funeral was a celebration of her life and I thank my mother for asking me to participate in the service. I hope I made everyone proud and represented the family well. No matter how many times I speak, it's always a little tough, but I try.

In closing, just a few family pictures.

Turn The Page

This year, turning the calendar page to January will be very symbolic.

It will be putting a bad year behind me.

Don't worry, I'm not going to rehash all the events of 2011 that made it a bad year. Instead, I want to look at the good things that happened.

Yes, there were some.

Our family gained two beautiful baby boys - Weston William Bennett and John Brooks Bennett, sons of Chad and Mason, respectively. I have yet to meet them in person, but they are adorable.

Two ladies in our office added beautiful baby girls to their families, which means our Gillon Group family grew a little as well.

Our office saw some turnover this year. Someone remarked the other day that we had lost so many people. Yes. Four people moved on - one to take care of her ailing mother who subsequently passed away, one to move back to his hometown for a woman, and two for other opportunities. But we gained four women in their places. Good, strong,competent women. So it was a net-net. But we tend to focus on the bad sometimes and that's all this person was seeing, the losses.

Professionally, I completed a goal of achieving my certified fraud examiner credentials.

I also completed a personal faith journey and joined the Catholic Church this year. Not something I've talked a lot about because I belief faith is a personal thing, but important to me.

A friend of mine had a book published. A dream I am still pursuing.

On a global scale, a royal wedding captivated the world for a little while and we put our differences aside to see Prince William marry his princess. More importantly, our Navy Seals rid the world of evil with the elimination of Osama Bin Laden and our troops left Iraq this month, signalling the end of that war. Hopefully leaving Afghanistan won't be far behind. So many families received the best Christmas gift - their soldier home from the war.

Good things have happened. Many good things.

But it is easy to remember the earthquakes, tornadoes, tsunamis and other destructive events. It's easy to think about the losses. It's easy, at least for me, to dwell on the negative and let it overshadow everything else. So easy to forget.

But we need to remember the victories. The spirit of neighbor helping neighbor during those natural disasters. Communities rebuilding. The world coming together to aide one another instead of always fighting.

I am finding my joy again. I looked at this blog the other day and realized I'd almost written less in 12 months than I did the year I started the blog, which was late in 2008. And I love to write.

For a while, I let the negative overtake me. I got completely overwhelmed by my world. I had to step back to remember all the positives.

I also have a great 2012 to look forward to. I am a duchess in Mardi Gras, a joyful, happy time full of fun and friends and festivities. I have some big things happening at work this upcoming year. I have more boundaries to stretch professionally. Will it be easy, no. But nothing worth having is usually easily achieved. Also, the family is expecting another baby boy in March. My uncle, already a grandfather to two beautiful granddaughters, will add three grandsons in less than a year.

So, I'm looking forward to turning over the calendar and starting the new year. Yes, because I do want to put some bad things behind me. But also because I'm looking forward to new things. I want to get back to being Me.

The SPIRIT of Christmas

Like a lot of families this year, our Christmas was different. I know many families that had empty seats and placesettings at their holiday tables. For only the second time in 22 years of marriage, we didn't go to Arkansas for Christmas.

I won't get into the circumstances, but it was a necessary decision this year for Billy and I to stay home.

Now, this initially caused me some stress. I am a traditionalist and I don't take change well. I've, of course, had to accept changes over the years. Family members pass on or get married and have families of their own and new traditions have to evolve.

I in no way want this to become a new tradition. I want this to merely be a blip on the radar of life. Much like the old way we used to track Santa Claus. I can remember the weathermen on the local news stations with their large circular radar screens - always greenish-gray, pre-Doppler - and a little red dot would flash across the screen. Tracking Santa's flight path. It was the indicator that all good boys and girls needed to hurry off to bed. Santa was close.

To my mother's great credit, she suggested that we meet in Lake Village for lunch. On Friday. Our office was closed that day and it was the perfect opportunity to get together without disrupting anyone else's plans and schedules.

And so we did. We each drove two and half hours for a lunch that lasted less than an hour. We ate at Rhoda's. If it hadn't been recommended by the Information Center we would have driven right past it, if we'd even found ourselves in that part of town. Slightly off the main road and the building looked as if would fall in at any moment. But the food was good, Southern Living magazine and newspaper reviews lining the walls, and there was a steady stream of customers picking up their lunches while we were there. And it was a good thing they were all to go orders. Rhoda's only has about six tables and all but one were taken.

I've discovered that I like long trips in the car with Billy. Kind of like our eleven hour drive to eastern Tennessee. We can talk, or not, without having to pass out puppy treats, let someone out, let someone in, listen for the washing machine to get off-kilter, try to quiet the herd when the mailman comes up on the porch, and so forth. Just the two of us, alone with our thoughts, able to converse in peace.

Meeting Mom only solved part of the problem. In case you.ve missed it, I love my nephews and niece more than words can say and I was worried about missing them. They are growing up so fast that I hate to lose any opportunity to see them. I know, I saw Hayden this summer and Brett will be here in February, but still, it was Christmas. So, we employed technology and Skyped.

Not sure if that is the correct verb or not, but Skype we did. And it was fun! Especially after we figured out that the reason they couldn't hear me was because the speaker volume on their side was turned down! But I could see them. They all looked good. And we talked. And laughed. And were together.

And really, isn't that what Christmas is about?

It isn't about the presents - though there were those as well. Mom served as courier between Andrea and I. And it wasn't about doing what we've always done. There was a spirit of cooperation with my family that made it all work out. And that was important.

Billy and I had been discussing for a while what we were going to do. We were unable to stay with his mom as we always have. It was really too late to find a house sitter that we could have confidence in. There isn't a hotel on Earth that will have 7 dogs in the room. Mom's house isn't equipped for a herd of our size either. And renting an RV wasn't going to work. At least not this year, but maybe next. I didn't want to go alone and I didn't want to leave him. I will never forget the moment when it was "decided". We were shopping in Wal-Mart and I just off-handedly remarked that we needed to decide what we were going to have for our Christmas lunch. I'd never fixed one before so we'd never thought about it. He turned and looked at me, somewhat puzzled. And asked, "you mean you're staying here?" "Of course, I'm not leaving you on Christmas." Right there, in front of everyone, he threw his arms around me, planted a big kiss on me and said, "thank you for understanding! I thought I was going to have a hard time with this".

Compromise. Understanding. Willingness. Far greater gifts than another sweater or bottle of perfume or anything else. (Not that we don't love the gifts we received, we do!)

Aren't those also some of the gifts of the first Christmas? Mary's willingness to give in to God's plan for her. Joseph's understanding that he had a strange mission that he would have to accept as well, far outside the norm for his day. The compromise of staying in a barn when there was no room in the inn for a very pregnant woman who would ultimately give the world it's greatest gift.

It's easy to get caught up in the madness of the holidays. We allow ourselves to get stressed to find the perfect gift. To visit everyone. To eat at every stop. To try and please everyone else. We usually end up feeling tired and cranky instead of blessed. At least I do. Maybe I shouldn't speak for everyone.

So, while our little Christmas was far from our "norm", it was good. So much so in fact that on Monday when Billy was trying to find a project to work on I asked why we couldn't just spend time together. He reminded me we'd been doing that for three days already!

My hope is that next year will be back to what we're used to, for a lot of reasons. The schedules and driving and all the rest. But I hope we don't lose the gifts of this year. The real spirit of Christmas. That it doesn't matter where our bodies are so much as what is in our hearts.