It hit me the other day that sometimes peoples' views change based on what is convenient. While I think he is back home now, last week there was practically a nation-wide manhunt for the 13 year old boy who had reportedly left the country with his mother to avoid chemotherapy.
It occurred to me that a 13 year old girl could have an abortion, probably without her parents being notified, and that is supported. It is a woman's right to choose what happens to her body and all that stuff.
What is the difference? Chemotherapy and abortions are both, strictly speaking, medical procedures. Are 13 year old females so much more mature that they can make decisions about their bodies and what happens to them than a 13 year old male? Is it fine that the parents don't know what is going on in one case but are fully supportive of the child in the other and that is somehow wrong?
I know personally a family that buried their son on New Year's Eve 2008. I think he was 21. Three years of chemo and radiation for leukemia had so weakened his lungs that even though his leukemia was in remission - after the second or third bone marrow transplant - he died from the treatments.
It is my understanding that this young man who refused the treatments knew of a similar case. He might have been actually making an informed decision about his health and his life and how he wanted to spend his days.
So where is the line? How can the argument be made on one side that a child can make a decision about her own body but another child of the same age cannot? How can it be acceptable for one side to make this type of decision on her own, no parental guidance, but the support of the parents in the other case bears no weight?
It just seems convoluted to me. It seems like the argument that we have the right to choose what happens to our bodies is dependent on whether the decision agrees with the national "conventional wisdom".
I guess I'm pretty white and black. A right is a right is a right. Doesn't matter. If it applies to one it must apply to all - consistently, evenly, fairly, uniformly.
End of story.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Many Thanks!
Despite her warts, blemishes and imperfections, the United States of America is the only country in which I want to live. No question.
Nowhere else do I have the freedom to write a blog, and say what I want without fear. I have the freedom, and right and privilege, to vote on my leaders and the laws under which we live. I can marry whomever I choose. I can live wherever I feel.
I am free.
For that, how can you possibly say thank you enough?
How can you ever truly express the gratitude that you (should) feel to a family who has lost a loved one in the defense of our great nation? How can you ever really honor those who have served and died throughout history?
Just think, we could just as easily be speaking French or Spanish if not for the bravery of men and women in the past, Or we could be still be under the British monarchy if not for the Revolutionaries.
I'm very grateful that I have a family who has long believed in service to our country. I know of family members that have served in just about every war since World War II all the way to Iraq and Afghanistan. I'm extremely proud of all of them. I'm also extremely thankful that we've not lost anyone in that service. I experienced my first military funeral last month and that 21 gun salute truly takes your breath away. The playing of TAPS sent me over the edge. And that was just to honor past service.
Whether or not you agree with our country's involvement in a conflict, be it Vietnam, Gulf Storm, Iraq, Afghanistan, or any military action the soldiers involved deserve our thanks. They are doing their job. Some were called to serve, some volunteered, but all deserve to have their hands shaked and their backs patted. Most of us will take off work, enjoy sports or backyard bar-b-ques, maybe a parade, but few will actually take the time to thank and remember those for whom the day was established (those who made the day necessary as Daddy would say).
So, let me start. Thank you. So very much. To all those Americans who have served to make this the Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave.
Thank you.
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Nowhere else do I have the freedom to write a blog, and say what I want without fear. I have the freedom, and right and privilege, to vote on my leaders and the laws under which we live. I can marry whomever I choose. I can live wherever I feel.
I am free.
For that, how can you possibly say thank you enough?
How can you ever truly express the gratitude that you (should) feel to a family who has lost a loved one in the defense of our great nation? How can you ever really honor those who have served and died throughout history?
Just think, we could just as easily be speaking French or Spanish if not for the bravery of men and women in the past, Or we could be still be under the British monarchy if not for the Revolutionaries.
I'm very grateful that I have a family who has long believed in service to our country. I know of family members that have served in just about every war since World War II all the way to Iraq and Afghanistan. I'm extremely proud of all of them. I'm also extremely thankful that we've not lost anyone in that service. I experienced my first military funeral last month and that 21 gun salute truly takes your breath away. The playing of TAPS sent me over the edge. And that was just to honor past service.
Whether or not you agree with our country's involvement in a conflict, be it Vietnam, Gulf Storm, Iraq, Afghanistan, or any military action the soldiers involved deserve our thanks. They are doing their job. Some were called to serve, some volunteered, but all deserve to have their hands shaked and their backs patted. Most of us will take off work, enjoy sports or backyard bar-b-ques, maybe a parade, but few will actually take the time to thank and remember those for whom the day was established (those who made the day necessary as Daddy would say).
So, let me start. Thank you. So very much. To all those Americans who have served to make this the Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave.
Thank you.
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
-
The hyphen. Such a small little thing. We may call it a dash or a couple of other things, but that doesn't really matter.
It's what the hyphen does that matters.
Per Wikipedia: "The hyphen ( - ) is a punctuation mark. It is used both to join words and also to separate syllables of a single word."
When this country was first founded it was to create a new and different land. Far far away from the oppressive British monarchy. Over time America came to represent the shining light of all that was good about a country. And people wanted to come here. To be an American. They left their homes and families and traveled great distances to be a part of this country. And while most of the big cities where immigrants settled did create their own little countries (think Little Italy in New York City) in their neighborhoods, outside of those neighborhoods they learned English, and spoke English, and tried to be an American.
Somewhere along the way it fell out of vogue, this only being an American. We had to use a hyphen to connect two words: Italian-American, Jewish-American, African-American, German-American, Irish-American. Such a tiny little mark was making a huge difference suddenly. Now, we were not wanting to run away from our beginnings but bring them along and acknowledge them. On the surface I have no problem with that. My ancestors made me who I am. A Native, German, Irish, English, Scottish, French(?) American. I probably left something out since my background is somewhat varied. I'm proud of all of it.
But I am really only an American. I think that is what all my ancestors wanted for their descendants. I think that was the intention. They left their countries for this new country where we could be free. And they were proud to be an American.
Somewhere along the way the hyphen learned to do division. I think when everyone started sticking that one little mark in front of "American" our country started dividing up into groups. Particularly when the other culture comes first. I think that is very telling. Would it carry the same weight if we said we were American-German or American-Mexican? I think that we have started dividing ourselves up again by our cultures. We aren't "just" Americans anymore.
I guess I was thinking about this because of some language issues. The question keeps coming up every time I read something like instructions or road signs printed in multiple languages. Or whenever a discussion comes up about English being the official language.
I'm going to visit Italy later this year. I will spend the summer and fall trying as hard as I can to learn the basics of the language. So I can communicate with them in their native tongue - as they should expect. I can't imagine visiting someplace, much less moving there, and having an expectation that they would speak English simply because I do. Just seems arrogant to me - not a good guest.
I realize that America is a melting pot. Our background is a rich tapestry of influences from all over the globe. It is something that makes us unique. It sets us apart. But if we're going to be a successful merging of all these differences, why does everyone keep trying to point them out? The best cake is one where you can't taste all the individual ingredients. All the parts come together to make the whole.
Maybe we need to go back the drawing board.
It's what the hyphen does that matters.
Per Wikipedia: "The hyphen ( - ) is a punctuation mark. It is used both to join words and also to separate syllables of a single word."
When this country was first founded it was to create a new and different land. Far far away from the oppressive British monarchy. Over time America came to represent the shining light of all that was good about a country. And people wanted to come here. To be an American. They left their homes and families and traveled great distances to be a part of this country. And while most of the big cities where immigrants settled did create their own little countries (think Little Italy in New York City) in their neighborhoods, outside of those neighborhoods they learned English, and spoke English, and tried to be an American.
Somewhere along the way it fell out of vogue, this only being an American. We had to use a hyphen to connect two words: Italian-American, Jewish-American, African-American, German-American, Irish-American. Such a tiny little mark was making a huge difference suddenly. Now, we were not wanting to run away from our beginnings but bring them along and acknowledge them. On the surface I have no problem with that. My ancestors made me who I am. A Native, German, Irish, English, Scottish, French(?) American. I probably left something out since my background is somewhat varied. I'm proud of all of it.
But I am really only an American. I think that is what all my ancestors wanted for their descendants. I think that was the intention. They left their countries for this new country where we could be free. And they were proud to be an American.
Somewhere along the way the hyphen learned to do division. I think when everyone started sticking that one little mark in front of "American" our country started dividing up into groups. Particularly when the other culture comes first. I think that is very telling. Would it carry the same weight if we said we were American-German or American-Mexican? I think that we have started dividing ourselves up again by our cultures. We aren't "just" Americans anymore.
I guess I was thinking about this because of some language issues. The question keeps coming up every time I read something like instructions or road signs printed in multiple languages. Or whenever a discussion comes up about English being the official language.
I'm going to visit Italy later this year. I will spend the summer and fall trying as hard as I can to learn the basics of the language. So I can communicate with them in their native tongue - as they should expect. I can't imagine visiting someplace, much less moving there, and having an expectation that they would speak English simply because I do. Just seems arrogant to me - not a good guest.
I realize that America is a melting pot. Our background is a rich tapestry of influences from all over the globe. It is something that makes us unique. It sets us apart. But if we're going to be a successful merging of all these differences, why does everyone keep trying to point them out? The best cake is one where you can't taste all the individual ingredients. All the parts come together to make the whole.
Maybe we need to go back the drawing board.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Happy Birthday!
My mom called a little bit ago, before she'd read today's Random Thought and asked me if it was about my nephew. You see, he turns 16 today. A very important day! I told her no, I'd decided to wait until he was 18 to publicly embarrass him.
I changed my mind.
I thought about all the times I've said never to pass up an opportunity to tell someone you love them. None of us know where we'll be in 2 years. Not even sure about tomorrow.
So, not be overly flowerly and girly (there is SOOOOO much I could say here!!!)but,
Hayden, I love you and Happy Birthday!
My, how time flies.....Correction
To everyone who receives the email version - the musical is "Oklahoma" not "The Sound of Music". I had something else on my mind while typing! Sorry for the error.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
A Gift to Me
Sometimes we have to take care of ourselves. It isn't that I'm not well cared for by others but there are some gifts that you can only give yourself.
I tend to be one of those people who can't say no. (As that has made me sing the song "I'm Just a Girl Who Can't say No" from the musical "Oklahoma" it has been a long week.) And after I say yes, in true Southern fashion, I want to please. I want to make sure everyone is taken care of. I typically go above and beyond.
Problem is, I become the "go-to" person. And since I don't say no I end up doing more and more and more.
So, for my birthday this year I am giving myself a gift. The gift of permission to say no. And to say no without guilt. Most all of my current obligations will be over on June 30. I've already not re-upped for one of them and the other automatically goes to someone else for the next two years. There is still much to be done between now and then - I'm the discussion leader for the accouting and auditing update at the CPE day so the preparation for that half day will be substantial - but I can see the light at the end of the tunnel.
Now this has been hard for me. One of my first posts on Random Thoughts was "Letting the Bully Win" and it was based on my experiences with one of these organizations. One where about 6 or 7 other members have decided, like me, to not come back next year. And that does give me pause. Am I doing the one thing that I really don't want to - am I letting this one overbearing personality run me off? Will the bully win if I'm not there to present opposing views and give the other members things to think about?
I finally had to decide that after 4 years I have to come first. This organization survived decades without me and it will continue, without me.
So, what comes with the gift of permission to say no? What added bonus? The gift of time. Time to start working on my writing again. When we were looking at houses during the move 7 years ago my focus was always on which room would be my writing room. What would the view be? Where would I see my inspirations? And, aside from a few short stories, I haven't written much. Time to get back into the kitchen. We spent 15 months completely gutting and redoing our kitchen into a good, functional space to put my training to use. (Side note, for those that don't know it I was in the middle of working on a culinary arts degree when we moved and my husband and I literally redid the entire kitchen ourselves. Floor to ceiling, wall to wall and everything in between. That is why it took 15 months.) Time to read the hundreds of books in my library that are waiting their turn. Time to play on the Wii if I feel like it. Time to do what I want because I want.
Now, I'm not dropping out of everything, and I don't regret one minute that I've spent on my pursuits. This is a small town and "outsiders" have to work hard sometimes to find their way into things. But I've met some of the most wonderful people and made new friends. I've also seen groups that I'd like to be involved in
some day.
Think about what gifts you might need - gift of forgiveness for a past misdeed, gift of acceptance for yourself, the gift of patience. There's any number of gifts that you may need to give yourself. You see, unlike a new scarf or pair of shoes, no one else can give you these gifts. They can only come from within.
Which is why I think they are so much more valuable.
I tend to be one of those people who can't say no. (As that has made me sing the song "I'm Just a Girl Who Can't say No" from the musical "Oklahoma" it has been a long week.) And after I say yes, in true Southern fashion, I want to please. I want to make sure everyone is taken care of. I typically go above and beyond.
Problem is, I become the "go-to" person. And since I don't say no I end up doing more and more and more.
So, for my birthday this year I am giving myself a gift. The gift of permission to say no. And to say no without guilt. Most all of my current obligations will be over on June 30. I've already not re-upped for one of them and the other automatically goes to someone else for the next two years. There is still much to be done between now and then - I'm the discussion leader for the accouting and auditing update at the CPE day so the preparation for that half day will be substantial - but I can see the light at the end of the tunnel.
Now this has been hard for me. One of my first posts on Random Thoughts was "Letting the Bully Win" and it was based on my experiences with one of these organizations. One where about 6 or 7 other members have decided, like me, to not come back next year. And that does give me pause. Am I doing the one thing that I really don't want to - am I letting this one overbearing personality run me off? Will the bully win if I'm not there to present opposing views and give the other members things to think about?
I finally had to decide that after 4 years I have to come first. This organization survived decades without me and it will continue, without me.
So, what comes with the gift of permission to say no? What added bonus? The gift of time. Time to start working on my writing again. When we were looking at houses during the move 7 years ago my focus was always on which room would be my writing room. What would the view be? Where would I see my inspirations? And, aside from a few short stories, I haven't written much. Time to get back into the kitchen. We spent 15 months completely gutting and redoing our kitchen into a good, functional space to put my training to use. (Side note, for those that don't know it I was in the middle of working on a culinary arts degree when we moved and my husband and I literally redid the entire kitchen ourselves. Floor to ceiling, wall to wall and everything in between. That is why it took 15 months.) Time to read the hundreds of books in my library that are waiting their turn. Time to play on the Wii if I feel like it. Time to do what I want because I want.
Now, I'm not dropping out of everything, and I don't regret one minute that I've spent on my pursuits. This is a small town and "outsiders" have to work hard sometimes to find their way into things. But I've met some of the most wonderful people and made new friends. I've also seen groups that I'd like to be involved in
some day.
Think about what gifts you might need - gift of forgiveness for a past misdeed, gift of acceptance for yourself, the gift of patience. There's any number of gifts that you may need to give yourself. You see, unlike a new scarf or pair of shoes, no one else can give you these gifts. They can only come from within.
Which is why I think they are so much more valuable.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Labels
WARNING Contents in coffee cup are hot!
Product may contain peanuts
Do not exceed recommended dosage!
Serving Size: 1 bag
Lately I've been hearing a lot of labels being tossed about in the hunt for a Supreme Court Justice. Labels regarding gender, ethnicity, race and sexuality. All these discussions of who would make a good political appointment that center around things besides their qualifications. I keep hearing "we need a Hispanic", "the President should appoint a homosexual", "the Court needs a black female".
I've got an idea. How about all the resumes get stacked up without names or any identifying information and a selection gets made based on nothing more than....
wait for it
their qualifications for the job!! Wow! What a concept! Appointing a Supreme Court Justice based on their ability to interpret the laws.
I guess I live in a very idealistic world. I think that in 2009 labels should be unnecessary in our conversations. People should be men and women not a black man or Hispanic woman. Not a gay man or a white woman.
Why is it necessary to use these labels?
At one time in society then maybe there was a need. But not now. We're all equal under the law - at least for most things. We can all apply to and attend college. Any college. We can all apply for the same jobs - any job. We don't have the same boundaries that existed 60 years ago. The only boundaries that exist now is in our abilities and our drive. Sure, I could apply to MIT but I won't get in. I didn't work hard enough in science in school. And the cost is a bit much. But if I were accepted I could certainly work extra jobs to pay for it if it meant that much to me.
There was an ad on television the other night for a vo-tech college. At the end "women and minorities are strongly encouraged to apply". I know that diversity is the "big thing". I'm all for it - in the right context.
People who want to participate in something should. But don't ask someone to join your group just because of WHAT they are. People should be asked to join a group based on WHO they are. What skills they bring to the table. Their qualifications.
That goes for everything. Supreme Court Justices included.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Out of My League
This was my entry into the Flower Show. The one that I wrote about a few weeks ago in the Naunie's Roses post.
Now, here is the explanation behind my entry. The theme of the flower show was "Essence of a Victorian Wedding" and my entry was in the dining room, labeled "Reception: Celebrating with the couple after the Ceremony". So I created the top tier of a wedding cake. Complete with notes that the magnolia leaves were representing the great swirls of white icing on most Victorian cakes. I did the trim with lantana out of my own yard.
Now, here is the explanation behind my entry. The theme of the flower show was "Essence of a Victorian Wedding" and my entry was in the dining room, labeled "Reception: Celebrating with the couple after the Ceremony". So I created the top tier of a wedding cake. Complete with notes that the magnolia leaves were representing the great swirls of white icing on most Victorian cakes. I did the trim with lantana out of my own yard.Pretty much every other entry there - 23 others - were basic flower arrangements in a vase or some other container.
That was it. Second place in one division was literally a dozen roses - pink and beautiful - in a vase with some filler.
I knew I was in trouble when I took my entry and saw all these glorious arrangements. I started feeling like going with the theme had not been my best decision. After the judging the show was open to the public for 2 hours. Well, my husband and I got there about 30 minutes into the show. My magnolia leaves were now really turning brown and the lantana not quite so perky as in the morning. I asked when I could take my entry home. I was told that I should leave it until the end of the show, but I just couldn't. It REALLY didn't look like it belonged with the rest.
To my husband's credit he pumped me up by saying all the right things to say. "You showed creativity and imagination. Theirs were just a bunch of roses." And while I am proud of my entry and proud of myself for entering and trying, I have to admit to a little embarrassment. But, like I was reminded, some of these women wait all year for this day and I had one of my worst weeks in a long time last week and put my entry together yesterday morning. I finished it 10 minutes before the deadline. But I honored my commitment to the committee and did what I thought was a good effort.
Below is my 4th place ribbon. As expected. There are 4 entries in each division. Everyone gets rewarded for participating. But that's OK. I tried.
Moms Are Special
I've said before that the title of this post is one of my husband's favorite phrases. Moms are special. So, it is with his mother that I'd like to start this tribute to three of my favorite moms.
I thanked my mother-in-law once for giving me the greatest gift I'd ever received. Since she primarily shops for me at TJ Maxx, she was a little confused. Of course I meant my husband. She raised a wonderful man that I cannot imagine life without. But it is her life and how she raised her family that is impressive.
She was born very poor. Her father was killed in an accident when she was about 3 years old, with a twin brother and a sister that was maybe 5. Her mother moved back to live with her mom in a small house with an outhouse. My husband will tell you the outhouse was still operational while HE was growing up. Her community was very small and rural. It still had a one-room schoolhouse. At 16 she left to move to the Big City with her 8th grade education (that's as high as the school went) and basic skills to find a job to help support her family. And she did. She worked odd jobs and lived in a boarding house.
Then she married her first husband and had a child at 19. After a few years of moving around the country, working where ever there were jobs and family to support them, there were some problems and she did something almost unheard of in the late 50s and early 60s. She divorced him. Now she was a single mother with a small child and still only had an 8th grade education. But she worked hard and made a life for the two of them. Then she married my husband's father and had two children and was a stay-at-home mom. Until that didn't work out and they divorced.
It was back to working whatever jobs she could find. Pizza parlor, dry cleaners, whatever she could do. She also earned her GED. With a teenage son that probably could have used a lot more guidance and male influence. His dad left the family and was not a part of his life after that.
But what emerged from this was a man that respects women and has an incredible work ethic. He will do what he needs to do to support his family - emotionally or monetarily or however. He doesn't care. If that means doing the grocery shopping because I'm working 7 days a week - so be it. His schedule now is more flexible so he takes cares of the house while I work. At other times during our marriage I don't think he knew where the vacuum cleaner was stored, but he was working the 7 days a week to make a nice home for us.
So, while neither of us is perfect and the last 20 years have had some rough spots, my husband is a blessing to me and I see a lot in him of the woman who raised him. And I thank her.
The next special mom on my list is my sister. I can't imagine raising children in today's world. When my mom was growing up people didn't even lock their doors at night. My sister and I grew up with the whole don't take candy from strangers and don't tell someone on the phone that your parents aren't home. Bad things happened to kids, but not all the time. Now, she has to worry every time one of them turns on the computer what kind of cybernut is out there. The daily news is, unfortunately, full of stories about children that don't end well.
So I admire her. I admire her first and foremost for even having children in the first place. Not something I could do. But I am impressed and more than pleased with the children themselves. They are good kids. They are involved and fun to be around. They do well in school and they love their aunt. They are just special people that I can see doing wonderful things when they get older. They bring a joy to my life. My sister is fortunate that she also married a wonderful man and together they are doing an incredible job.
And I thank her.
Now, my mom. The best for last.
My mom is awesome. I've learned a lot from her over the years. Although I may not have always said it. We didn't have all the mother/daughter dramas while I was growing up, but we had a few. Didn't see eye to eye on a few things. Boys mostly. But that's another story.
My mom married my dad while she was still in college. I was a quick addition to the family and my dad got a job in another town so we moved. She hadn't finished her education but there were provisions back then for teachers who were in the process so she started working. But I watched her not only finish her degree but also go on to get her Master's degree, plus hours above. And she did this over the summers. It took her a long time. I can remember times where Daddy would take my sister and I out or try to keep us quiet so Mom could study. I remember being on campus in the summers and waiting outside the classroom a few times while Mom was working on her education. And I remember a great sense of pride when she graduated.
She never gave up. She had a goal and she worked and worked until she attained it. An admirable trait under any circumstances. One that I think I picked up.
But, more importantly, it is the way that Mom has lived her life. How she has faced what has been thrown at her that I admire most.
Mom's life started out fairly easily. My grandfather was a successful farmer in a small town and my mom's family was very well known and respected. The conventional wisdom was that she would also marry a farmer, stay in town, continue playing the organ for the Methodist Church, and raise her family there. Live a life like my grandmother lived.
Mom had other plans. The choices she made didn't really lead to the life that had been envisioned for her. I think it took a lot of gumption for a 17 or 18 year old to make those bold decisions to go a different path than the expected. But it was still a good life for a long time. We had a nice house (although it didn't seem so small when I was growing up as it does now), nice cars, family vacations every summer. Mom worked but had the summers and school holidays off to be with us. My sister and I worked some growing up, not because the family had to have the money but for our own spending money and the "extras" in life. It taught us valuable skills about being organized and managing money. Saving for the important stuff.
Mom went through a lot in the years before my dad died. We all did, but her especially. I watched her be strong. Tough in an impossible situation. Trying to make difficult decisions. Life wasn't turning out quite as planned once the kids were out of the house.
I watched her again be strong with her second husband. She had been given the opportunity to live a life that she'd wanted, and deserved, and then it all got snatched out from under her. My stepfather fell ill and life changed. She really put him and his needs first for that last year and half before his death. They traveled all over but that meant she had to do all the packing, carrying the suitcases, the planning, the driving. She did everything so that he could enjoy his remaining time. And he appreciated it, don't misunderstand. Then I watched her, very literally, bury a man she loved.
But I've seen what all she was has gone through. The emotions when no one was looking. The chinks in the armor.
I admire my mother. She has been handed a lot in life and she has handled it. She's stronger than I think she realizes and I wish she would give herself more credit. I watch her now, trying again to rearrange her life for unexpected circumstances, and I try to support and encourage. I wouldn't blame her if she never left the house but I'm always hoping she will. There's still a big world out there and now is the time to do new things or make some changes. To be secure in herself, and put herself first for a change. She's been a wife and mother. Now she just needs to be herself.
She's taught us lessons through her life. How she's lived it and who she is.
And for that, I can't thank her enough.
I am grateful and thankful for all three of these mothers. They've brought so much into my life. So, on this day set aside for mothers everywhere, I say Thank You, I Love You, and Happy Mother's Day!
(And that goes for all the mothers and stepmothers out there who have blessed my life - my grandmothers, aunts, cousins, friends. I hope you all have a most wonderful day!)
Moms are Special.
I thanked my mother-in-law once for giving me the greatest gift I'd ever received. Since she primarily shops for me at TJ Maxx, she was a little confused. Of course I meant my husband. She raised a wonderful man that I cannot imagine life without. But it is her life and how she raised her family that is impressive.
She was born very poor. Her father was killed in an accident when she was about 3 years old, with a twin brother and a sister that was maybe 5. Her mother moved back to live with her mom in a small house with an outhouse. My husband will tell you the outhouse was still operational while HE was growing up. Her community was very small and rural. It still had a one-room schoolhouse. At 16 she left to move to the Big City with her 8th grade education (that's as high as the school went) and basic skills to find a job to help support her family. And she did. She worked odd jobs and lived in a boarding house.
Then she married her first husband and had a child at 19. After a few years of moving around the country, working where ever there were jobs and family to support them, there were some problems and she did something almost unheard of in the late 50s and early 60s. She divorced him. Now she was a single mother with a small child and still only had an 8th grade education. But she worked hard and made a life for the two of them. Then she married my husband's father and had two children and was a stay-at-home mom. Until that didn't work out and they divorced.
It was back to working whatever jobs she could find. Pizza parlor, dry cleaners, whatever she could do. She also earned her GED. With a teenage son that probably could have used a lot more guidance and male influence. His dad left the family and was not a part of his life after that.
But what emerged from this was a man that respects women and has an incredible work ethic. He will do what he needs to do to support his family - emotionally or monetarily or however. He doesn't care. If that means doing the grocery shopping because I'm working 7 days a week - so be it. His schedule now is more flexible so he takes cares of the house while I work. At other times during our marriage I don't think he knew where the vacuum cleaner was stored, but he was working the 7 days a week to make a nice home for us.
So, while neither of us is perfect and the last 20 years have had some rough spots, my husband is a blessing to me and I see a lot in him of the woman who raised him. And I thank her.
The next special mom on my list is my sister. I can't imagine raising children in today's world. When my mom was growing up people didn't even lock their doors at night. My sister and I grew up with the whole don't take candy from strangers and don't tell someone on the phone that your parents aren't home. Bad things happened to kids, but not all the time. Now, she has to worry every time one of them turns on the computer what kind of cybernut is out there. The daily news is, unfortunately, full of stories about children that don't end well.
So I admire her. I admire her first and foremost for even having children in the first place. Not something I could do. But I am impressed and more than pleased with the children themselves. They are good kids. They are involved and fun to be around. They do well in school and they love their aunt. They are just special people that I can see doing wonderful things when they get older. They bring a joy to my life. My sister is fortunate that she also married a wonderful man and together they are doing an incredible job.
And I thank her.
Now, my mom. The best for last.
My mom is awesome. I've learned a lot from her over the years. Although I may not have always said it. We didn't have all the mother/daughter dramas while I was growing up, but we had a few. Didn't see eye to eye on a few things. Boys mostly. But that's another story.
My mom married my dad while she was still in college. I was a quick addition to the family and my dad got a job in another town so we moved. She hadn't finished her education but there were provisions back then for teachers who were in the process so she started working. But I watched her not only finish her degree but also go on to get her Master's degree, plus hours above. And she did this over the summers. It took her a long time. I can remember times where Daddy would take my sister and I out or try to keep us quiet so Mom could study. I remember being on campus in the summers and waiting outside the classroom a few times while Mom was working on her education. And I remember a great sense of pride when she graduated.
She never gave up. She had a goal and she worked and worked until she attained it. An admirable trait under any circumstances. One that I think I picked up.
But, more importantly, it is the way that Mom has lived her life. How she has faced what has been thrown at her that I admire most.
Mom's life started out fairly easily. My grandfather was a successful farmer in a small town and my mom's family was very well known and respected. The conventional wisdom was that she would also marry a farmer, stay in town, continue playing the organ for the Methodist Church, and raise her family there. Live a life like my grandmother lived.
Mom had other plans. The choices she made didn't really lead to the life that had been envisioned for her. I think it took a lot of gumption for a 17 or 18 year old to make those bold decisions to go a different path than the expected. But it was still a good life for a long time. We had a nice house (although it didn't seem so small when I was growing up as it does now), nice cars, family vacations every summer. Mom worked but had the summers and school holidays off to be with us. My sister and I worked some growing up, not because the family had to have the money but for our own spending money and the "extras" in life. It taught us valuable skills about being organized and managing money. Saving for the important stuff.
Mom went through a lot in the years before my dad died. We all did, but her especially. I watched her be strong. Tough in an impossible situation. Trying to make difficult decisions. Life wasn't turning out quite as planned once the kids were out of the house.
I watched her again be strong with her second husband. She had been given the opportunity to live a life that she'd wanted, and deserved, and then it all got snatched out from under her. My stepfather fell ill and life changed. She really put him and his needs first for that last year and half before his death. They traveled all over but that meant she had to do all the packing, carrying the suitcases, the planning, the driving. She did everything so that he could enjoy his remaining time. And he appreciated it, don't misunderstand. Then I watched her, very literally, bury a man she loved.
But I've seen what all she was has gone through. The emotions when no one was looking. The chinks in the armor.
I admire my mother. She has been handed a lot in life and she has handled it. She's stronger than I think she realizes and I wish she would give herself more credit. I watch her now, trying again to rearrange her life for unexpected circumstances, and I try to support and encourage. I wouldn't blame her if she never left the house but I'm always hoping she will. There's still a big world out there and now is the time to do new things or make some changes. To be secure in herself, and put herself first for a change. She's been a wife and mother. Now she just needs to be herself.
She's taught us lessons through her life. How she's lived it and who she is.
And for that, I can't thank her enough.
I am grateful and thankful for all three of these mothers. They've brought so much into my life. So, on this day set aside for mothers everywhere, I say Thank You, I Love You, and Happy Mother's Day!
(And that goes for all the mothers and stepmothers out there who have blessed my life - my grandmothers, aunts, cousins, friends. I hope you all have a most wonderful day!)
Moms are Special.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
The Reluctant Role Model
Several years ago Charles Barkley, of NBA fame, got into some trouble with the law. I don't remember now if it was drugs or drink or speeding. But it was his first time and an interviewer asked him how he felt about all the kids and people he let down. His response was that he didn't really care. He had never asked to be a role model and no one should look up to him.
Problem is, most people don't ask to be role models. You don't really wake up one morning and think "Today is the day I become a role model." I suppose there are those people that make a conscious decision to join a group like the Boys and Girls Club or Big Brothers/Big Sisters and know that becoming a role model is a byproduct of their involvement, or can be at least.
No, for the average Joe, being a role model for someone is usually accidental. And usually unexpected. Which means we REALLY have to be careful what we do! You never know who might be watching.
Nor do you know what might be noticed by someone. Role models can be positive or negative. There are some powerful commercials on television to get people to stop smoking. It shows young girls playing dress up and then pretending to smoke a cigarette. The moms watching are mortified. They didn't realize their actions were being so closely monitored. But of course your kids are going to look up to you! They want to be like their parents.
It isn't always your parents of course. Maybe it is someone at work trying to better themselves with more education, or a neighbor improving their health, or any number of things.
I think the secret is really to try and live a life that you won't be embarrassed by if someone does emulate you. Be proud of yourself every night when you lay down to go to sleep and then you don't have to worry. You won't get a Superman suit with a cape and an "R" on the chest but you can have a sense of personal pride when you realize that someone took notice and wanted to be like you.
And, for the record, not too long ago Charles Barkley did an interview - from a jail in Arizona.
Problem is, most people don't ask to be role models. You don't really wake up one morning and think "Today is the day I become a role model." I suppose there are those people that make a conscious decision to join a group like the Boys and Girls Club or Big Brothers/Big Sisters and know that becoming a role model is a byproduct of their involvement, or can be at least.
No, for the average Joe, being a role model for someone is usually accidental. And usually unexpected. Which means we REALLY have to be careful what we do! You never know who might be watching.
Nor do you know what might be noticed by someone. Role models can be positive or negative. There are some powerful commercials on television to get people to stop smoking. It shows young girls playing dress up and then pretending to smoke a cigarette. The moms watching are mortified. They didn't realize their actions were being so closely monitored. But of course your kids are going to look up to you! They want to be like their parents.
It isn't always your parents of course. Maybe it is someone at work trying to better themselves with more education, or a neighbor improving their health, or any number of things.
I think the secret is really to try and live a life that you won't be embarrassed by if someone does emulate you. Be proud of yourself every night when you lay down to go to sleep and then you don't have to worry. You won't get a Superman suit with a cape and an "R" on the chest but you can have a sense of personal pride when you realize that someone took notice and wanted to be like you.
And, for the record, not too long ago Charles Barkley did an interview - from a jail in Arizona.
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