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.
Monday, December 31, 2012
Monday, November 19, 2012
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.
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.
Sunday, November 4, 2012
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.
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
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!
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!
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
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.
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.
Thursday, May 31, 2012
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.
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.
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