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.
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Turn The Page
This year, turning the calendar page to January will be very symbolic.
It will be putting a bad year behind me.
Don't worry, I'm not going to rehash all the events of 2011 that made it a bad year. Instead, I want to look at the good things that happened.
Yes, there were some.
Our family gained two beautiful baby boys - Weston William Bennett and John Brooks Bennett, sons of Chad and Mason, respectively. I have yet to meet them in person, but they are adorable.
Two ladies in our office added beautiful baby girls to their families, which means our Gillon Group family grew a little as well.
Our office saw some turnover this year. Someone remarked the other day that we had lost so many people. Yes. Four people moved on - one to take care of her ailing mother who subsequently passed away, one to move back to his hometown for a woman, and two for other opportunities. But we gained four women in their places. Good, strong,competent women. So it was a net-net. But we tend to focus on the bad sometimes and that's all this person was seeing, the losses.
Professionally, I completed a goal of achieving my certified fraud examiner credentials.
I also completed a personal faith journey and joined the Catholic Church this year. Not something I've talked a lot about because I belief faith is a personal thing, but important to me.
A friend of mine had a book published. A dream I am still pursuing.
On a global scale, a royal wedding captivated the world for a little while and we put our differences aside to see Prince William marry his princess. More importantly, our Navy Seals rid the world of evil with the elimination of Osama Bin Laden and our troops left Iraq this month, signalling the end of that war. Hopefully leaving Afghanistan won't be far behind. So many families received the best Christmas gift - their soldier home from the war.
Good things have happened. Many good things.
But it is easy to remember the earthquakes, tornadoes, tsunamis and other destructive events. It's easy to think about the losses. It's easy, at least for me, to dwell on the negative and let it overshadow everything else. So easy to forget.
But we need to remember the victories. The spirit of neighbor helping neighbor during those natural disasters. Communities rebuilding. The world coming together to aide one another instead of always fighting.
I am finding my joy again. I looked at this blog the other day and realized I'd almost written less in 12 months than I did the year I started the blog, which was late in 2008. And I love to write.
For a while, I let the negative overtake me. I got completely overwhelmed by my world. I had to step back to remember all the positives.
I also have a great 2012 to look forward to. I am a duchess in Mardi Gras, a joyful, happy time full of fun and friends and festivities. I have some big things happening at work this upcoming year. I have more boundaries to stretch professionally. Will it be easy, no. But nothing worth having is usually easily achieved. Also, the family is expecting another baby boy in March. My uncle, already a grandfather to two beautiful granddaughters, will add three grandsons in less than a year.
So, I'm looking forward to turning over the calendar and starting the new year. Yes, because I do want to put some bad things behind me. But also because I'm looking forward to new things. I want to get back to being Me.
It will be putting a bad year behind me.
Don't worry, I'm not going to rehash all the events of 2011 that made it a bad year. Instead, I want to look at the good things that happened.
Yes, there were some.
Our family gained two beautiful baby boys - Weston William Bennett and John Brooks Bennett, sons of Chad and Mason, respectively. I have yet to meet them in person, but they are adorable.
Two ladies in our office added beautiful baby girls to their families, which means our Gillon Group family grew a little as well.
Our office saw some turnover this year. Someone remarked the other day that we had lost so many people. Yes. Four people moved on - one to take care of her ailing mother who subsequently passed away, one to move back to his hometown for a woman, and two for other opportunities. But we gained four women in their places. Good, strong,competent women. So it was a net-net. But we tend to focus on the bad sometimes and that's all this person was seeing, the losses.
Professionally, I completed a goal of achieving my certified fraud examiner credentials.
I also completed a personal faith journey and joined the Catholic Church this year. Not something I've talked a lot about because I belief faith is a personal thing, but important to me.
A friend of mine had a book published. A dream I am still pursuing.
On a global scale, a royal wedding captivated the world for a little while and we put our differences aside to see Prince William marry his princess. More importantly, our Navy Seals rid the world of evil with the elimination of Osama Bin Laden and our troops left Iraq this month, signalling the end of that war. Hopefully leaving Afghanistan won't be far behind. So many families received the best Christmas gift - their soldier home from the war.
Good things have happened. Many good things.
But it is easy to remember the earthquakes, tornadoes, tsunamis and other destructive events. It's easy to think about the losses. It's easy, at least for me, to dwell on the negative and let it overshadow everything else. So easy to forget.
But we need to remember the victories. The spirit of neighbor helping neighbor during those natural disasters. Communities rebuilding. The world coming together to aide one another instead of always fighting.
I am finding my joy again. I looked at this blog the other day and realized I'd almost written less in 12 months than I did the year I started the blog, which was late in 2008. And I love to write.
For a while, I let the negative overtake me. I got completely overwhelmed by my world. I had to step back to remember all the positives.
I also have a great 2012 to look forward to. I am a duchess in Mardi Gras, a joyful, happy time full of fun and friends and festivities. I have some big things happening at work this upcoming year. I have more boundaries to stretch professionally. Will it be easy, no. But nothing worth having is usually easily achieved. Also, the family is expecting another baby boy in March. My uncle, already a grandfather to two beautiful granddaughters, will add three grandsons in less than a year.
So, I'm looking forward to turning over the calendar and starting the new year. Yes, because I do want to put some bad things behind me. But also because I'm looking forward to new things. I want to get back to being Me.
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
The SPIRIT of Christmas
Like a lot of families this year, our Christmas was different. I know many families that had empty seats and placesettings at their holiday tables. For only the second time in 22 years of marriage, we didn't go to Arkansas for Christmas.
I won't get into the circumstances, but it was a necessary decision this year for Billy and I to stay home.
Now, this initially caused me some stress. I am a traditionalist and I don't take change well. I've, of course, had to accept changes over the years. Family members pass on or get married and have families of their own and new traditions have to evolve.
I in no way want this to become a new tradition. I want this to merely be a blip on the radar of life. Much like the old way we used to track Santa Claus. I can remember the weathermen on the local news stations with their large circular radar screens - always greenish-gray, pre-Doppler - and a little red dot would flash across the screen. Tracking Santa's flight path. It was the indicator that all good boys and girls needed to hurry off to bed. Santa was close.
To my mother's great credit, she suggested that we meet in Lake Village for lunch. On Friday. Our office was closed that day and it was the perfect opportunity to get together without disrupting anyone else's plans and schedules.
And so we did. We each drove two and half hours for a lunch that lasted less than an hour. We ate at Rhoda's. If it hadn't been recommended by the Information Center we would have driven right past it, if we'd even found ourselves in that part of town. Slightly off the main road and the building looked as if would fall in at any moment. But the food was good, Southern Living magazine and newspaper reviews lining the walls, and there was a steady stream of customers picking up their lunches while we were there. And it was a good thing they were all to go orders. Rhoda's only has about six tables and all but one were taken.
I've discovered that I like long trips in the car with Billy. Kind of like our eleven hour drive to eastern Tennessee. We can talk, or not, without having to pass out puppy treats, let someone out, let someone in, listen for the washing machine to get off-kilter, try to quiet the herd when the mailman comes up on the porch, and so forth. Just the two of us, alone with our thoughts, able to converse in peace.
Meeting Mom only solved part of the problem. In case you.ve missed it, I love my nephews and niece more than words can say and I was worried about missing them. They are growing up so fast that I hate to lose any opportunity to see them. I know, I saw Hayden this summer and Brett will be here in February, but still, it was Christmas. So, we employed technology and Skyped.
Not sure if that is the correct verb or not, but Skype we did. And it was fun! Especially after we figured out that the reason they couldn't hear me was because the speaker volume on their side was turned down! But I could see them. They all looked good. And we talked. And laughed. And were together.
And really, isn't that what Christmas is about?
It isn't about the presents - though there were those as well. Mom served as courier between Andrea and I. And it wasn't about doing what we've always done. There was a spirit of cooperation with my family that made it all work out. And that was important.
Billy and I had been discussing for a while what we were going to do. We were unable to stay with his mom as we always have. It was really too late to find a house sitter that we could have confidence in. There isn't a hotel on Earth that will have 7 dogs in the room. Mom's house isn't equipped for a herd of our size either. And renting an RV wasn't going to work. At least not this year, but maybe next. I didn't want to go alone and I didn't want to leave him. I will never forget the moment when it was "decided". We were shopping in Wal-Mart and I just off-handedly remarked that we needed to decide what we were going to have for our Christmas lunch. I'd never fixed one before so we'd never thought about it. He turned and looked at me, somewhat puzzled. And asked, "you mean you're staying here?" "Of course, I'm not leaving you on Christmas." Right there, in front of everyone, he threw his arms around me, planted a big kiss on me and said, "thank you for understanding! I thought I was going to have a hard time with this".
Compromise. Understanding. Willingness. Far greater gifts than another sweater or bottle of perfume or anything else. (Not that we don't love the gifts we received, we do!)
Aren't those also some of the gifts of the first Christmas? Mary's willingness to give in to God's plan for her. Joseph's understanding that he had a strange mission that he would have to accept as well, far outside the norm for his day. The compromise of staying in a barn when there was no room in the inn for a very pregnant woman who would ultimately give the world it's greatest gift.
It's easy to get caught up in the madness of the holidays. We allow ourselves to get stressed to find the perfect gift. To visit everyone. To eat at every stop. To try and please everyone else. We usually end up feeling tired and cranky instead of blessed. At least I do. Maybe I shouldn't speak for everyone.
So, while our little Christmas was far from our "norm", it was good. So much so in fact that on Monday when Billy was trying to find a project to work on I asked why we couldn't just spend time together. He reminded me we'd been doing that for three days already!
My hope is that next year will be back to what we're used to, for a lot of reasons. The schedules and driving and all the rest. But I hope we don't lose the gifts of this year. The real spirit of Christmas. That it doesn't matter where our bodies are so much as what is in our hearts.
I won't get into the circumstances, but it was a necessary decision this year for Billy and I to stay home.
Now, this initially caused me some stress. I am a traditionalist and I don't take change well. I've, of course, had to accept changes over the years. Family members pass on or get married and have families of their own and new traditions have to evolve.
I in no way want this to become a new tradition. I want this to merely be a blip on the radar of life. Much like the old way we used to track Santa Claus. I can remember the weathermen on the local news stations with their large circular radar screens - always greenish-gray, pre-Doppler - and a little red dot would flash across the screen. Tracking Santa's flight path. It was the indicator that all good boys and girls needed to hurry off to bed. Santa was close.
To my mother's great credit, she suggested that we meet in Lake Village for lunch. On Friday. Our office was closed that day and it was the perfect opportunity to get together without disrupting anyone else's plans and schedules.
And so we did. We each drove two and half hours for a lunch that lasted less than an hour. We ate at Rhoda's. If it hadn't been recommended by the Information Center we would have driven right past it, if we'd even found ourselves in that part of town. Slightly off the main road and the building looked as if would fall in at any moment. But the food was good, Southern Living magazine and newspaper reviews lining the walls, and there was a steady stream of customers picking up their lunches while we were there. And it was a good thing they were all to go orders. Rhoda's only has about six tables and all but one were taken.
I've discovered that I like long trips in the car with Billy. Kind of like our eleven hour drive to eastern Tennessee. We can talk, or not, without having to pass out puppy treats, let someone out, let someone in, listen for the washing machine to get off-kilter, try to quiet the herd when the mailman comes up on the porch, and so forth. Just the two of us, alone with our thoughts, able to converse in peace.
Meeting Mom only solved part of the problem. In case you.ve missed it, I love my nephews and niece more than words can say and I was worried about missing them. They are growing up so fast that I hate to lose any opportunity to see them. I know, I saw Hayden this summer and Brett will be here in February, but still, it was Christmas. So, we employed technology and Skyped.
Not sure if that is the correct verb or not, but Skype we did. And it was fun! Especially after we figured out that the reason they couldn't hear me was because the speaker volume on their side was turned down! But I could see them. They all looked good. And we talked. And laughed. And were together.
And really, isn't that what Christmas is about?
It isn't about the presents - though there were those as well. Mom served as courier between Andrea and I. And it wasn't about doing what we've always done. There was a spirit of cooperation with my family that made it all work out. And that was important.
Billy and I had been discussing for a while what we were going to do. We were unable to stay with his mom as we always have. It was really too late to find a house sitter that we could have confidence in. There isn't a hotel on Earth that will have 7 dogs in the room. Mom's house isn't equipped for a herd of our size either. And renting an RV wasn't going to work. At least not this year, but maybe next. I didn't want to go alone and I didn't want to leave him. I will never forget the moment when it was "decided". We were shopping in Wal-Mart and I just off-handedly remarked that we needed to decide what we were going to have for our Christmas lunch. I'd never fixed one before so we'd never thought about it. He turned and looked at me, somewhat puzzled. And asked, "you mean you're staying here?" "Of course, I'm not leaving you on Christmas." Right there, in front of everyone, he threw his arms around me, planted a big kiss on me and said, "thank you for understanding! I thought I was going to have a hard time with this".
Compromise. Understanding. Willingness. Far greater gifts than another sweater or bottle of perfume or anything else. (Not that we don't love the gifts we received, we do!)
Aren't those also some of the gifts of the first Christmas? Mary's willingness to give in to God's plan for her. Joseph's understanding that he had a strange mission that he would have to accept as well, far outside the norm for his day. The compromise of staying in a barn when there was no room in the inn for a very pregnant woman who would ultimately give the world it's greatest gift.
It's easy to get caught up in the madness of the holidays. We allow ourselves to get stressed to find the perfect gift. To visit everyone. To eat at every stop. To try and please everyone else. We usually end up feeling tired and cranky instead of blessed. At least I do. Maybe I shouldn't speak for everyone.
So, while our little Christmas was far from our "norm", it was good. So much so in fact that on Monday when Billy was trying to find a project to work on I asked why we couldn't just spend time together. He reminded me we'd been doing that for three days already!
My hope is that next year will be back to what we're used to, for a lot of reasons. The schedules and driving and all the rest. But I hope we don't lose the gifts of this year. The real spirit of Christmas. That it doesn't matter where our bodies are so much as what is in our hearts.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
How I Spent My Summer Vacation
If this summer had been a fish I would have thrown it back. A horse, I'd have shot it.
Since I am an animal-lover I can say, yes, it was that bad.
I had already lost an old friend back in April at age 45. An unexpected death for me. That was bad, but not the worst of my 2011 tragic events.
No, things really started to go downhill when my brother-in-law was killed in an accident. That single moment in time changed everything. If I could somehow roll the calendar back to June 6 I would.
In a heartbeat.
Without covering all the details, many of which should stay private, suffice it to say I've seen sides of people and witnessed events that I never dreamed existed. It is said that deaths bring out the worst in people. I'll take it a little further. Deaths reveal true characters. I have watched people that I love and care about, and that loved and cared about each other, or at a minimum tolerated each other, turn their backs and behave inexplicably. And when it is all said and done, there will be no winners.
We cared for my mother-in-law during a hospitalization and recovery. Cost Billy and I our annual trip to New York City. To be fair, Hurricane Irene canceled our flight into New York but that was really only the excuse we used for doing what we knew was the right thing. The hurricane allowed us to cancel our trip with only minimal financial repercussions. Billy spent many hours on the road between Natchez and Arkansas with his mom, ultimately bringing her here for a 10 day hospital stay, followed by a week at our house.
I'm happy to report she is fine now.
Summer ended and I was convinced the changing of the seasons would bring needed changes in our world as well. I was looking forward to a trip with my mother in September and Billy and I had a long weekend trip scheduled in October.
Things had to improve, right?
Mom and I did have a wonderful trip. We were part of a larger bus tour that started in Chicago, traveled north through Wisconsin to Mackinac Island, Michigan and ended in Detroit. I met lots of nice, interesting people and saw some wonderful sights. We had cheese in Wisconsin, shopped in Frankenmuth, and relaxed at the Grand Hotel. The Ford Museum should not be missed in you're ever in the area.
But while I was gone, our sweet almost 16 year old Lab, Midnight, passed away.
If you know anything about Labs you know that the average lifespan is only about half of the years she lived. So I knew we had given her a good life but I was also pretty sure she wouldn't be here when I returned home. We'd been witnessing her decline for weeks. Still, she left on her own terms. That's how we try to let them go. I just hated that Billy had to deal with it all by himself. Me being home wouldn't have changed things, but I always refer to us as Team Tanksley and a part of me wanted to be home.
But I absolutely wouldn't have wanted to miss the trip with Mom. This was a first for us. Sure, we've spent plenty of time alone together over the years, but it was always typically at on of our own homes. This was a 9 day trip, sharing hotel rooms and hours sitting together on the bus.
24/7 togetherness.
But it was wonderful. I wrote her when I got home, thanking her for the trip, and I told her how nice it was that after years of hearing while growing up, particularly during my teenage years, "I'm your mother, not your friend" that we had reached a point in our lives where she could be both.
Billy and I did get our long weekend together. We drove 11 hours from Natchez to Jonesborough, Tennessee to the National Storytelling Festival. I highly recommend it! It was the most relaxed either of us had been in months. We only had one "child" with us, our sweet Riley, and we had nothing but time stretched out in front of us. At the festival we could go from tent to tent to hear the storytellers, sit and relax, walk through the shops, eat or just do nothing. Our third night, we stayed in the hotel room and watched our Razorbacks on television. Just like we would have at home, but it seemed different somehow. I guess it was knowing someone else was keeping the dogs and we had just a little less responsibility. I picked up pizza and we stretched out and just enjoyed each other's company.
Sadly, the respite was short-lived. A few weeks later my dad's oldest brother in Texas passed away. Also, unexpectedly.
I lost 3 people I loved and cared about in 6 months, plus Midnight, to death.
But we lost other family members as well to circumstances and bad decisions. Billy and I finally reached a point where we had to end, or at least limit, our exposure to people that had become "toxic". It wasn't easy. But it had to be done.
We realized that we are the only two people in charge of our own happiness. And that we had to remain Team Tanksley and look out for one another. Support one another. No one else can do it for you. People can make you miserable, or can make you laugh, or even cry. But those are moments in time.
Allowing those moments to dictate the whole of our lives is our decision.
2011 is not ending quite as well as it started. I am certainly looking forward to turning the calendar over to 2012. I have already started thinking about what I can do to make it better. Handling my work stresses better. Learning to say No to some of the volunteer opportunities that present themselves. Enjoying a special Mardi Gras.
Spending time with the ones I love and cherish and chosing who will impact my life, and how.
Since I am an animal-lover I can say, yes, it was that bad.
I had already lost an old friend back in April at age 45. An unexpected death for me. That was bad, but not the worst of my 2011 tragic events.
No, things really started to go downhill when my brother-in-law was killed in an accident. That single moment in time changed everything. If I could somehow roll the calendar back to June 6 I would.
In a heartbeat.
Without covering all the details, many of which should stay private, suffice it to say I've seen sides of people and witnessed events that I never dreamed existed. It is said that deaths bring out the worst in people. I'll take it a little further. Deaths reveal true characters. I have watched people that I love and care about, and that loved and cared about each other, or at a minimum tolerated each other, turn their backs and behave inexplicably. And when it is all said and done, there will be no winners.
We cared for my mother-in-law during a hospitalization and recovery. Cost Billy and I our annual trip to New York City. To be fair, Hurricane Irene canceled our flight into New York but that was really only the excuse we used for doing what we knew was the right thing. The hurricane allowed us to cancel our trip with only minimal financial repercussions. Billy spent many hours on the road between Natchez and Arkansas with his mom, ultimately bringing her here for a 10 day hospital stay, followed by a week at our house.
I'm happy to report she is fine now.
Summer ended and I was convinced the changing of the seasons would bring needed changes in our world as well. I was looking forward to a trip with my mother in September and Billy and I had a long weekend trip scheduled in October.
Things had to improve, right?
Mom and I did have a wonderful trip. We were part of a larger bus tour that started in Chicago, traveled north through Wisconsin to Mackinac Island, Michigan and ended in Detroit. I met lots of nice, interesting people and saw some wonderful sights. We had cheese in Wisconsin, shopped in Frankenmuth, and relaxed at the Grand Hotel. The Ford Museum should not be missed in you're ever in the area.
But while I was gone, our sweet almost 16 year old Lab, Midnight, passed away.
If you know anything about Labs you know that the average lifespan is only about half of the years she lived. So I knew we had given her a good life but I was also pretty sure she wouldn't be here when I returned home. We'd been witnessing her decline for weeks. Still, she left on her own terms. That's how we try to let them go. I just hated that Billy had to deal with it all by himself. Me being home wouldn't have changed things, but I always refer to us as Team Tanksley and a part of me wanted to be home.
But I absolutely wouldn't have wanted to miss the trip with Mom. This was a first for us. Sure, we've spent plenty of time alone together over the years, but it was always typically at on of our own homes. This was a 9 day trip, sharing hotel rooms and hours sitting together on the bus.
24/7 togetherness.
But it was wonderful. I wrote her when I got home, thanking her for the trip, and I told her how nice it was that after years of hearing while growing up, particularly during my teenage years, "I'm your mother, not your friend" that we had reached a point in our lives where she could be both.
Billy and I did get our long weekend together. We drove 11 hours from Natchez to Jonesborough, Tennessee to the National Storytelling Festival. I highly recommend it! It was the most relaxed either of us had been in months. We only had one "child" with us, our sweet Riley, and we had nothing but time stretched out in front of us. At the festival we could go from tent to tent to hear the storytellers, sit and relax, walk through the shops, eat or just do nothing. Our third night, we stayed in the hotel room and watched our Razorbacks on television. Just like we would have at home, but it seemed different somehow. I guess it was knowing someone else was keeping the dogs and we had just a little less responsibility. I picked up pizza and we stretched out and just enjoyed each other's company.
Sadly, the respite was short-lived. A few weeks later my dad's oldest brother in Texas passed away. Also, unexpectedly.
I lost 3 people I loved and cared about in 6 months, plus Midnight, to death.
But we lost other family members as well to circumstances and bad decisions. Billy and I finally reached a point where we had to end, or at least limit, our exposure to people that had become "toxic". It wasn't easy. But it had to be done.
We realized that we are the only two people in charge of our own happiness. And that we had to remain Team Tanksley and look out for one another. Support one another. No one else can do it for you. People can make you miserable, or can make you laugh, or even cry. But those are moments in time.
Allowing those moments to dictate the whole of our lives is our decision.
2011 is not ending quite as well as it started. I am certainly looking forward to turning the calendar over to 2012. I have already started thinking about what I can do to make it better. Handling my work stresses better. Learning to say No to some of the volunteer opportunities that present themselves. Enjoying a special Mardi Gras.
Spending time with the ones I love and cherish and chosing who will impact my life, and how.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Turn Around And He's A Young Man
It isn't always often that a nonparent gets to watch the transformation of a child into a man.
I have been so blessed.
Hayden turned 18 this past spring. Hardly seemed possible to me. But I told all three children in 2009 that once they turned 18 AND graduated from high school that I would take them anywhere they wanted and do whatever they wanted. The only parameters I set was that it had to be in the continental United States - I could see the wheels turning in their heads of faraway lands - and it would be just the two of us, no friends, no family. We discussed things like seeing a baseball game in Boston, the ballet in New York, a NASCAR race, or maybe a concert for a favorite group.
Hayden, of course, was first up. And it was time for me to make good on my promise.
But he struggled. He couldn't decide what he wanted to do, to see, to go. We made suggestion after suggestion. As a "planner" I wanted to be certain that I had enough time to adequately cover all the bases. I didn't want to disappoint him. I was honestly starting to stress about what was supposed to be a fun thing!
But the day came when I got the call. Los Angeles.
All of it.
As long as I had a mission, I was good. So I went to work on it.
We flew out of Northwest Arkansas on July 21, 2011 and off we went!
And we did see it all!
The Hollywood sign:
The Pacific Ocean:
The Santa Monica Pier:
and Mullholland Drive:
.
We also rode EVERY roller coaster that Magic Mountain could throw at us!
But most importantly, we got to spend time together. As two adults. Time I will cherish for the rest of my days. We discussed the world, his plans, and just mundane, "in the moment" kinds of stuff like who might be living in the big house behind the gates we were seeing or who might be driving that fancy car parked on Rodeo Drive.
I am proud of the man he is becoming. I say "becoming" because, like all of us, he is still a work in process. He still strattles that line between man and child and you sometimes catch glimpses of both. I look back over the years and wonder where the time went. We went from
and
through
to
and finally coming to
It's tough to let go. So hard for me to envision him walking around the campus at the University of Arkansas, starting out on the next phase of his life. Hard to know that his major decisions now are just that - HIS decisions. We adults get input but we don't always get to pull the old "just because I said so" stuff anymore. (Although Andrea and Doug can still whip out the "as long as we're paying your bills" card when needed.) As with all parents, they have to loosen the reins and hope that they taught him well. As the aunt, I hope I taught him something, anything of value.
Dee Dee loves you, Hayden. I know you know it. (I tell you often enough!) And I mean it. To me, you will, in some ways, always be that little boy with his arms around my neck, holding on. Someone you can cling to if your mom and dad aren't handy. We went from the merry-go-round to the Green Lantern and I wouldn't trade a minute.
The upside for me is that we're not done yet. Life is a journey. And, as the song goes (kinda) "you've only just begun...."
I have been so blessed.
Hayden turned 18 this past spring. Hardly seemed possible to me. But I told all three children in 2009 that once they turned 18 AND graduated from high school that I would take them anywhere they wanted and do whatever they wanted. The only parameters I set was that it had to be in the continental United States - I could see the wheels turning in their heads of faraway lands - and it would be just the two of us, no friends, no family. We discussed things like seeing a baseball game in Boston, the ballet in New York, a NASCAR race, or maybe a concert for a favorite group.
Hayden, of course, was first up. And it was time for me to make good on my promise.
But he struggled. He couldn't decide what he wanted to do, to see, to go. We made suggestion after suggestion. As a "planner" I wanted to be certain that I had enough time to adequately cover all the bases. I didn't want to disappoint him. I was honestly starting to stress about what was supposed to be a fun thing!
But the day came when I got the call. Los Angeles.
All of it.
As long as I had a mission, I was good. So I went to work on it.
We flew out of Northwest Arkansas on July 21, 2011 and off we went!
And we did see it all!
The Hollywood sign:
The Pacific Ocean:
The Santa Monica Pier:
and Mullholland Drive:
We also rode EVERY roller coaster that Magic Mountain could throw at us!
But most importantly, we got to spend time together. As two adults. Time I will cherish for the rest of my days. We discussed the world, his plans, and just mundane, "in the moment" kinds of stuff like who might be living in the big house behind the gates we were seeing or who might be driving that fancy car parked on Rodeo Drive.
I am proud of the man he is becoming. I say "becoming" because, like all of us, he is still a work in process. He still strattles that line between man and child and you sometimes catch glimpses of both. I look back over the years and wonder where the time went. We went from
through
to
and finally coming to
It's tough to let go. So hard for me to envision him walking around the campus at the University of Arkansas, starting out on the next phase of his life. Hard to know that his major decisions now are just that - HIS decisions. We adults get input but we don't always get to pull the old "just because I said so" stuff anymore. (Although Andrea and Doug can still whip out the "as long as we're paying your bills" card when needed.) As with all parents, they have to loosen the reins and hope that they taught him well. As the aunt, I hope I taught him something, anything of value.
Dee Dee loves you, Hayden. I know you know it. (I tell you often enough!) And I mean it. To me, you will, in some ways, always be that little boy with his arms around my neck, holding on. Someone you can cling to if your mom and dad aren't handy. We went from the merry-go-round to the Green Lantern and I wouldn't trade a minute.
The upside for me is that we're not done yet. Life is a journey. And, as the song goes (kinda) "you've only just begun...."
Monday, September 5, 2011
Happy Birthday to You!
Big birthdays deserve big attention. My second nephew, and one of my two favorites, 
is 16 today.
16.
Hardly seems possible.
Clay joined our family when there were lots of "things" going on. Not good things. Not things to dwell on, either. He was one of the shining bright spots in an otherwise dismal year.
And a bright spot he continues to be!
He has a smile that lights up the room. He is funny, polite, loving, and kind.
And very forgiving. He doesn't fuss that Naunie could never remember him, or his name, and that I'm always late with his birthday present (no exception this year either) because I'm always on vacation the week before and can't seem to get all together in time.
He used to start his days, every day from the time he could toddle, with a hug - usually from his mom. Now it is football practice and weight lifting.
He's becoming quite the young man.
He texted me from a Harry Potter movie once to see if I'd seen it yet. We needed to discuss! And he sent me a picture of his truck when he got it. Just to share it with me.
His silly old aunt.
So, Spanky D, Dee Dee loves you! Have a wonderful day!
16.
Hardly seems possible.
Clay joined our family when there were lots of "things" going on. Not good things. Not things to dwell on, either. He was one of the shining bright spots in an otherwise dismal year.
And a bright spot he continues to be!
He has a smile that lights up the room. He is funny, polite, loving, and kind.
And very forgiving. He doesn't fuss that Naunie could never remember him, or his name, and that I'm always late with his birthday present (no exception this year either) because I'm always on vacation the week before and can't seem to get all together in time.
He used to start his days, every day from the time he could toddle, with a hug - usually from his mom. Now it is football practice and weight lifting.
He's becoming quite the young man.
He texted me from a Harry Potter movie once to see if I'd seen it yet. We needed to discuss! And he sent me a picture of his truck when he got it. Just to share it with me.
His silly old aunt.
So, Spanky D, Dee Dee loves you! Have a wonderful day!
Saturday, August 13, 2011
A Life Well Lived
On June 7, 2011, just before 10 PM, our phone rang. Asleep, yes already, I leapt up and grabbed the receiver. My heart was in my stomach because, unless someone in your family is expecting a baby, there is no good news to be shared at that hour. I heard Billy's sister asking for him, tears in her voice. I handed him the phone, saying only "it's your sister, she's upset".
Of course, your most natural reaction is "what's wrong with their mom?". Holding my breath I just stood there, waiting and listening. My breath left me when Billy turned towards me and mouthed two small, simple words: Dale's dead.
That the call might involve his big, burley 56 year old truck driving brother had not entered my mind. Not really. I told Billy later that I had had a vision in the last few weeks of the exact scene that played out, but in that moment his mother was the only person that filled my mind. Things became a blur after that. His sister was in Atlanta and it would be up to Billy to get to Arkansas and tell their mother. Not a job I would have wished on my worst enemy. His sister was insistent that their mom not get the news from a stranger, and rightfully so, so he dressed and packed his bag to be gone for a few days as I talked to her to see what had happened and what needed to be done.
A tragic accident had taken his life.
I was awake for the entire 5 hours that I knew Billy was making that long drive to Arkansas. I spoke to his sister a few times, called the funeral home since Dale had been in Illinois at the time of the accident, sent emails to those who would need to know the next morning. And I called Billy ever so often to ensure he was still awake and driving. At just after 3 AM I posted the news on Dale's Facebook page so his friends would know and could help me spread the word. I hated to have to tell people that way, but one thing I have learned through social media and networking sites is that news travels fast. I hadn't wanted anything on there, though, until I knew Billy was with their mother.
He said it was a hard thing to do. Having to sit her down and say those words no parent wants to hear, no matter how old your child. There's been an accident. Dale's gone.
The next few days were hectic with planning and calling and everything you have to deal with when there has been a death in the family, compounded somewhat by the fact that the death was unexpected.
Today would have been Dale's birthday. I can only imagine what his mom must be dealing with today. I can't tell you how proud I am of Billy. He has stepped up to the plate as the little brother and shouldered a mountain of burdens. He is taking care of Dale's estate and other affairs, has been in Arkansas more than he's been home, and calls his mother every night that he isn't with her. A fine son, and a wonderful brother.
I will miss so many things about Dale. I can't say that we were "close". Not in the sense that many would think about. But we were family. He was my polar opposite in many things, much like Billy when we met, and he was never shy about giving you his opinion. About everything. Because he had on opinion about everything! Music, politics, sports, you name it. I was stunned the time he told me he loved this blog and looked forward to reading it. One, I didn't even know he knew about it, and two, he had to have disagreed with just about everything I said in it! But it proved that at least he could be open to other ideas, he just wasn't going to agree with them. This past Christmas Billy and I each asked for a book - the ones by the President and First Lady Bush. Dale called me up and told me he was going to have to find another place to shop. "His" Hastings would never allow him back in if HE bought THOSE books THERE. Gave me a good laugh. He poked fun at some of the changes in Billy's political point of view, "blamed" me for it. I told him I could only save one Tanksley at a time but he could be next.
Sadly, I won't get that chance. At least not in this lifetime. I'm pretty sure you don't get to vote in Heaven so it won't really matter in the next.
He was always good for leaving a Facebook comment on my status. Good for the occasional phone call when a family matter needed tending to. He didn't always understand Billy's side of things and they had serious discussions on more than one occassion, but he would at least have the conversation. There will be no homemade CDs this year at Christmas of music he was certain we would love. And I have pictures from the one and only time Dale ever dressed up in a "monkey suit", our wedding. He told me later he wouldn't have done it for anyone else.
Dale was a big man, with a bigger heart. He was generous to a fault, reached out and helped so many and never, ever met a stranger. I have become Facebook friends with people I talked with at the funeral, and I've watched some of them become Facebook friends with each other. Even though we all live in different states. Still bringing people together. He loved his family, his friends, his life, his guitar, his music and his Razorbacks. I pray he has the best seat in the house come football season.
He left us with holes in our world and left us too soon. He was loved by many and will be missed by many more. May he rest in peace.
Of course, your most natural reaction is "what's wrong with their mom?". Holding my breath I just stood there, waiting and listening. My breath left me when Billy turned towards me and mouthed two small, simple words: Dale's dead.
That the call might involve his big, burley 56 year old truck driving brother had not entered my mind. Not really. I told Billy later that I had had a vision in the last few weeks of the exact scene that played out, but in that moment his mother was the only person that filled my mind. Things became a blur after that. His sister was in Atlanta and it would be up to Billy to get to Arkansas and tell their mother. Not a job I would have wished on my worst enemy. His sister was insistent that their mom not get the news from a stranger, and rightfully so, so he dressed and packed his bag to be gone for a few days as I talked to her to see what had happened and what needed to be done.
A tragic accident had taken his life.
I was awake for the entire 5 hours that I knew Billy was making that long drive to Arkansas. I spoke to his sister a few times, called the funeral home since Dale had been in Illinois at the time of the accident, sent emails to those who would need to know the next morning. And I called Billy ever so often to ensure he was still awake and driving. At just after 3 AM I posted the news on Dale's Facebook page so his friends would know and could help me spread the word. I hated to have to tell people that way, but one thing I have learned through social media and networking sites is that news travels fast. I hadn't wanted anything on there, though, until I knew Billy was with their mother.
He said it was a hard thing to do. Having to sit her down and say those words no parent wants to hear, no matter how old your child. There's been an accident. Dale's gone.
The next few days were hectic with planning and calling and everything you have to deal with when there has been a death in the family, compounded somewhat by the fact that the death was unexpected.
Today would have been Dale's birthday. I can only imagine what his mom must be dealing with today. I can't tell you how proud I am of Billy. He has stepped up to the plate as the little brother and shouldered a mountain of burdens. He is taking care of Dale's estate and other affairs, has been in Arkansas more than he's been home, and calls his mother every night that he isn't with her. A fine son, and a wonderful brother.
I will miss so many things about Dale. I can't say that we were "close". Not in the sense that many would think about. But we were family. He was my polar opposite in many things, much like Billy when we met, and he was never shy about giving you his opinion. About everything. Because he had on opinion about everything! Music, politics, sports, you name it. I was stunned the time he told me he loved this blog and looked forward to reading it. One, I didn't even know he knew about it, and two, he had to have disagreed with just about everything I said in it! But it proved that at least he could be open to other ideas, he just wasn't going to agree with them. This past Christmas Billy and I each asked for a book - the ones by the President and First Lady Bush. Dale called me up and told me he was going to have to find another place to shop. "His" Hastings would never allow him back in if HE bought THOSE books THERE. Gave me a good laugh. He poked fun at some of the changes in Billy's political point of view, "blamed" me for it. I told him I could only save one Tanksley at a time but he could be next.
Sadly, I won't get that chance. At least not in this lifetime. I'm pretty sure you don't get to vote in Heaven so it won't really matter in the next.
He was always good for leaving a Facebook comment on my status. Good for the occasional phone call when a family matter needed tending to. He didn't always understand Billy's side of things and they had serious discussions on more than one occassion, but he would at least have the conversation. There will be no homemade CDs this year at Christmas of music he was certain we would love. And I have pictures from the one and only time Dale ever dressed up in a "monkey suit", our wedding. He told me later he wouldn't have done it for anyone else.
Dale was a big man, with a bigger heart. He was generous to a fault, reached out and helped so many and never, ever met a stranger. I have become Facebook friends with people I talked with at the funeral, and I've watched some of them become Facebook friends with each other. Even though we all live in different states. Still bringing people together. He loved his family, his friends, his life, his guitar, his music and his Razorbacks. I pray he has the best seat in the house come football season.
He left us with holes in our world and left us too soon. He was loved by many and will be missed by many more. May he rest in peace.
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Faith
There's a lot of stuff I keep to myself. I'm sure you find that hard to believe, but it's true. I've always said that I try to do things because it is the right thing to do, not so that others will notice. But to tell this story, I have to tell you a couple of things that I wouldn't otherwise. Please excuse them.
Billy and I have our favorite causes that we support monetarily. It will come as no surprise to anyone that they are primarily based around the care and support of animals. This world is full of causes, most of them honest and worthy, but it seems like with animals the choices are always one of two - a "regular" shelter or a no-kill shelter. Obviously we prefer one over the other, but we support both. We want to give every animal possible a fighting chance. It has always just broken our hearts that these sweet little animals that want nothing but love and companionship so often end up at a shelter, and worse, because of the thoughtless, inhumane acts of human beings. We're just trying to help those who can't help themselves.
That isn't to say that we don't help human causes as well. We do. But more of that is with time than money. It has just always seemed to us that there are plenty of organizations that help men, women and especially children, who, like the animals, are also innocent victims of the poor decisions of the adults around them, that we could divert our funds elsewhere.
This is a time that we didn't.
We live two blocks from the residential shelter for abused children. (We also happen to live two blocks from the abused women's shelter. But that isn't really relevant to this.) I'm also friends with the director of the children's shelter, she and her sister, so it wasn't a surprise when I received a Facebook invite to a "Going to College" shower. I read the invite, thought "oh how nice" and responded as I do to anything I get on Facebook with a "maybe". See, it was on Thursday afternoon from 4-6. I already had our Kiwanis Club quarterly social on Thursday from 5 to about 6:30, bunco from 6 to 8:30, and a church meeting from 6:30 to 8. As all my Thursdays are, I was booked. (One of these days I will point out to all these organizations that there are actually 7 days in a week they could choose from!) I actually didn't give the shower much more thought. I was out of town last weekend and then working all week so it kind of slipped.
Until I checked my Facebook page Thursday morning.
The event was on my wall as a reminder. I reread the blurb about the young lady for whom the shower was being given. She was a resident and had been accepted to a pre-pharmacy program at a college on the Coast. I thought about it a minute or two, realized that Billy and I had purchased some gift cards the week before and still had one and I thought I could stick that in a card and drop it off at lunch.
Seemed simple enough. Asked Billy if he cared if I gave away the gift card. In his true fashion, he responded, "well, I'm usually more all about the animals, but this seems goods too."
Conscience assuaged, I left for work.
But I'm still thinking. It's a problem I have. Kiwanis Club - whose mission is to change the lives of others one community and one CHILD at a time. I'm thinking here is a good opportunity to help the life of one child so I emailed the president to see what he thought. Great idea, he said. Run to Wal-Mart and get a $100 gift card from the Club.
Done.
I signed the card for the whole Club since we weren't having our regular lunch meeting that Thursday and the shower was only a few hours away.
That's when I decided to actually attend the shower. It was no longer just a little $30 card from us, I was also representing a larger organization.
What a wonderful decision I made.
Let me tell you about "Faith", the young lady I met. (Obviously Faith is not her real name, but its close.)
First of all, the shelter was all decorated and food spread out on the table. Dips, burgers, cookies, the works! And a lovely young lady was sitting at one end of the room, surrounded with gifts of sheets, towels, and all manner of other things a new college student needs for her dorm room. I gave her the cards and she opened them and her face truly lit up. "This is so nice!" she exclaimed. And it was genuine. You could see it all over her face.
Then the director pulled me and another lady aside and told us Faith's story and why she was so special. She wasn't the first the resident to go to college. There had been football players and other young people go on. But none quite like this.
Faith had suffered all manners of abuse from almost birth. Her drug abuser biological mother had her parental rights terminated after her boyfriend repeated sexually abused and raped Faith as a toddler. Yes, you read that correctly. She was a TODDLER. Preschool.
Faith was placed into the State foster system and ultimately adopted. Before the ink was dry on the adoption papers her new "mom" started beating her. And continued to do so until Faith was old enough to start hitting back at around age 14.
Sounds like a failure in the system to me.
Faith is back in that system, though. In and out of shelters and foster homes and even mental institutions. She was exhibiting some of the worst possible behaviors - trying to strangle a roommate and burn down one of the shelters. Was ultimately diagnosed as bipolar but still, she had quite the records of issues following her when she landed in Natchez.
To our shelter's extreme credit, they view every child that comes through its doors as a fresh face. They are aware of the child's past but it gets left on the front porch and they are only judged by what goes on under their roof. The past is simply that, the past. Not to be confused with the present or future.
Faith starts to blossom in this environment. She commented to the director one day that they must not have known all about her and what all she'd done before. Her response to the director correcting that notion was a disbelieving "And you took me anyway?"
Yes.
Faith later commented that this was the first place that had seen her as person and not only as a behavior.
The inappropriate behaviors stopped and she started truly functioning like a real teenage girl. Not only going to school but passing and doing well enough to graduate. And graduate well enough to be accepted to a pre-pharmacy program.
THAT was why we were having a shower for her. Her personal accomplishments were what made her special. Virtually anyone would have "understood" if she had become just another victim of society and the system. Happens every single day. But SHE wasn't going to settle for that. Neither were those around her. I've seen that shelter and those women are incredible. I could not do what they do. Simply couldn't. But they gave her the space and support she needed to grow and flourish and not be satisfied to be a victim. She's going to make something of her life.
The second part of the story is one I'm still mulling over. You see, it hit her the other day that she was going to be 18 soon and would no longer be in the custody of the Mississippi Department of Human Services. She would be on her own in every sense of the word since she had no family and no home. And she was scared. What would she do in college over holiday breaks? She had no place to go.
As I said, the women at the shelter are incredible ladies and they aren't leaving Faith out in the world alone. She has a home in Natchez, probably staying with the director or other friends here in town.
Faith is going to make it. I can feel it. I hope I can find a way to help her. Maybe as a mentor or something. I have a cousin in pharmacy school in Arkansas - maybe I can do something there. I don't know.
All I do know is that I was blessed that day to get to meet her and I will continue to keep up with her. I'm very glad I left work 30 minutes early to drop off those cards in person. And when I left I congratulated her again on her accomplishments and she said "Thank you so much for coming", and she meant it.
There are a lot of Faiths in the world. The children that get overlooked or lost in the system. Sometimes they honestly don't need a whole lot. A stable environment, support, understanding, and the right amount of pushing in the right direction. They don't need their bad behavior "excused" but they don't need it lorded over them either. They need to be made to feel like they are contributing members of society and will be expected to contribute. Sometimes all it takes is for someone to have a little "Faith" in them.
They are only victims if they choose to be. They can be survivors.
And they are most definitely teachers. Teaching all us what it means to look adversity in the eye and not blink. Showing us what it means to truly live a life.
Good luck Faith! As I told my nephew on his graduation last week: May your path be straight and your steps sure. May you keep your eyes on the horizon, always looking for the next thing.
And thanks Matilda and all the ladies at the shelter. You took coal and made a diamond, as you always do.
Billy and I have our favorite causes that we support monetarily. It will come as no surprise to anyone that they are primarily based around the care and support of animals. This world is full of causes, most of them honest and worthy, but it seems like with animals the choices are always one of two - a "regular" shelter or a no-kill shelter. Obviously we prefer one over the other, but we support both. We want to give every animal possible a fighting chance. It has always just broken our hearts that these sweet little animals that want nothing but love and companionship so often end up at a shelter, and worse, because of the thoughtless, inhumane acts of human beings. We're just trying to help those who can't help themselves.
That isn't to say that we don't help human causes as well. We do. But more of that is with time than money. It has just always seemed to us that there are plenty of organizations that help men, women and especially children, who, like the animals, are also innocent victims of the poor decisions of the adults around them, that we could divert our funds elsewhere.
This is a time that we didn't.
We live two blocks from the residential shelter for abused children. (We also happen to live two blocks from the abused women's shelter. But that isn't really relevant to this.) I'm also friends with the director of the children's shelter, she and her sister, so it wasn't a surprise when I received a Facebook invite to a "Going to College" shower. I read the invite, thought "oh how nice" and responded as I do to anything I get on Facebook with a "maybe". See, it was on Thursday afternoon from 4-6. I already had our Kiwanis Club quarterly social on Thursday from 5 to about 6:30, bunco from 6 to 8:30, and a church meeting from 6:30 to 8. As all my Thursdays are, I was booked. (One of these days I will point out to all these organizations that there are actually 7 days in a week they could choose from!) I actually didn't give the shower much more thought. I was out of town last weekend and then working all week so it kind of slipped.
Until I checked my Facebook page Thursday morning.
The event was on my wall as a reminder. I reread the blurb about the young lady for whom the shower was being given. She was a resident and had been accepted to a pre-pharmacy program at a college on the Coast. I thought about it a minute or two, realized that Billy and I had purchased some gift cards the week before and still had one and I thought I could stick that in a card and drop it off at lunch.
Seemed simple enough. Asked Billy if he cared if I gave away the gift card. In his true fashion, he responded, "well, I'm usually more all about the animals, but this seems goods too."
Conscience assuaged, I left for work.
But I'm still thinking. It's a problem I have. Kiwanis Club - whose mission is to change the lives of others one community and one CHILD at a time. I'm thinking here is a good opportunity to help the life of one child so I emailed the president to see what he thought. Great idea, he said. Run to Wal-Mart and get a $100 gift card from the Club.
Done.
I signed the card for the whole Club since we weren't having our regular lunch meeting that Thursday and the shower was only a few hours away.
That's when I decided to actually attend the shower. It was no longer just a little $30 card from us, I was also representing a larger organization.
What a wonderful decision I made.
Let me tell you about "Faith", the young lady I met. (Obviously Faith is not her real name, but its close.)
First of all, the shelter was all decorated and food spread out on the table. Dips, burgers, cookies, the works! And a lovely young lady was sitting at one end of the room, surrounded with gifts of sheets, towels, and all manner of other things a new college student needs for her dorm room. I gave her the cards and she opened them and her face truly lit up. "This is so nice!" she exclaimed. And it was genuine. You could see it all over her face.
Then the director pulled me and another lady aside and told us Faith's story and why she was so special. She wasn't the first the resident to go to college. There had been football players and other young people go on. But none quite like this.
Faith had suffered all manners of abuse from almost birth. Her drug abuser biological mother had her parental rights terminated after her boyfriend repeated sexually abused and raped Faith as a toddler. Yes, you read that correctly. She was a TODDLER. Preschool.
Faith was placed into the State foster system and ultimately adopted. Before the ink was dry on the adoption papers her new "mom" started beating her. And continued to do so until Faith was old enough to start hitting back at around age 14.
Sounds like a failure in the system to me.
Faith is back in that system, though. In and out of shelters and foster homes and even mental institutions. She was exhibiting some of the worst possible behaviors - trying to strangle a roommate and burn down one of the shelters. Was ultimately diagnosed as bipolar but still, she had quite the records of issues following her when she landed in Natchez.
To our shelter's extreme credit, they view every child that comes through its doors as a fresh face. They are aware of the child's past but it gets left on the front porch and they are only judged by what goes on under their roof. The past is simply that, the past. Not to be confused with the present or future.
Faith starts to blossom in this environment. She commented to the director one day that they must not have known all about her and what all she'd done before. Her response to the director correcting that notion was a disbelieving "And you took me anyway?"
Yes.
Faith later commented that this was the first place that had seen her as person and not only as a behavior.
The inappropriate behaviors stopped and she started truly functioning like a real teenage girl. Not only going to school but passing and doing well enough to graduate. And graduate well enough to be accepted to a pre-pharmacy program.
THAT was why we were having a shower for her. Her personal accomplishments were what made her special. Virtually anyone would have "understood" if she had become just another victim of society and the system. Happens every single day. But SHE wasn't going to settle for that. Neither were those around her. I've seen that shelter and those women are incredible. I could not do what they do. Simply couldn't. But they gave her the space and support she needed to grow and flourish and not be satisfied to be a victim. She's going to make something of her life.
The second part of the story is one I'm still mulling over. You see, it hit her the other day that she was going to be 18 soon and would no longer be in the custody of the Mississippi Department of Human Services. She would be on her own in every sense of the word since she had no family and no home. And she was scared. What would she do in college over holiday breaks? She had no place to go.
As I said, the women at the shelter are incredible ladies and they aren't leaving Faith out in the world alone. She has a home in Natchez, probably staying with the director or other friends here in town.
Faith is going to make it. I can feel it. I hope I can find a way to help her. Maybe as a mentor or something. I have a cousin in pharmacy school in Arkansas - maybe I can do something there. I don't know.
All I do know is that I was blessed that day to get to meet her and I will continue to keep up with her. I'm very glad I left work 30 minutes early to drop off those cards in person. And when I left I congratulated her again on her accomplishments and she said "Thank you so much for coming", and she meant it.
There are a lot of Faiths in the world. The children that get overlooked or lost in the system. Sometimes they honestly don't need a whole lot. A stable environment, support, understanding, and the right amount of pushing in the right direction. They don't need their bad behavior "excused" but they don't need it lorded over them either. They need to be made to feel like they are contributing members of society and will be expected to contribute. Sometimes all it takes is for someone to have a little "Faith" in them.
They are only victims if they choose to be. They can be survivors.
And they are most definitely teachers. Teaching all us what it means to look adversity in the eye and not blink. Showing us what it means to truly live a life.
Good luck Faith! As I told my nephew on his graduation last week: May your path be straight and your steps sure. May you keep your eyes on the horizon, always looking for the next thing.
And thanks Matilda and all the ladies at the shelter. You took coal and made a diamond, as you always do.
Monday, May 23, 2011
And There Was Dancing In The Streets
On May 2, 2011, the world heard the news for which the United States had waited almost 10 years. Osama bin Laden had been located and killed.
The face of evil was no more (quite literally if you believe the reports).
It was a little hard to believe at first. It's been so long and the media so often get it wrong. And I had not heard the President speak, only received the news the following morning.
But the celebrations had started. In my head I couldn't quit singing "Ding Dong the Witch is Dead!" from the "Wizard of Oz". There were pictures of people in the streets with noisemakers and music. It looked very much like New Year's Eve in Times Square.
And as much as I don't begrudge anyone celebrating this in their own way, I kept coming back to something that Coach Lou Holtz used to tell his players - (paraphrased) if you score a touchdown, just put the ball down in the endzone or hand it to the referee. Act like you've been there before, even if you haven't.
I wish we could have approached the event like an item on our to do list.
Wash the car Check
Walk the dog Check
Pick up milk Check
Kill bin Laden Check
Soccer practice Check
Basically, the Navy Seals just did their job. For all we know, it simply was an item on their overall to do list. And they got it done.
I think it bothers me some because of the way we always react whenever one of our innocent soldiers or a journalist is captured and sometimes killed. The people in support of that behavior are firing guns into the air and dancing for joy and we can't believe that other human beings would act that way.
I am in NO WAY comparing the mastermind, orchestrator of the worst attack on American soil to our innocent soldiers, do not misunderstand me for an instant. I had family in Washington DC on that morning who saw the Pentagon and in New York City in the midst the chaos. Billy and I had our picture made less than two weeks before standing in the courtyard of Towers I and II in front of the gold globe and the sky that morning was just as blue as it was when those planes flew into the Towers and we could have been there. So no, I am not comparing the evil of that one human being to anything good. I am glad the SOB was DOA and I say good riddance to bad rubbish, but still...
I wish that, collectively, we could have just handed the ball to the ref and moved on.
Because there will be others. They are already plotting. And for all I know we fueled their desire to wreak even more havoc. We may get a short respite. We have done some serious damage to the Al-Queda organization. But it is by no means over. We might have scored a touchdown, but there is still time on the clock.
The face of evil was no more (quite literally if you believe the reports).
It was a little hard to believe at first. It's been so long and the media so often get it wrong. And I had not heard the President speak, only received the news the following morning.
But the celebrations had started. In my head I couldn't quit singing "Ding Dong the Witch is Dead!" from the "Wizard of Oz". There were pictures of people in the streets with noisemakers and music. It looked very much like New Year's Eve in Times Square.
And as much as I don't begrudge anyone celebrating this in their own way, I kept coming back to something that Coach Lou Holtz used to tell his players - (paraphrased) if you score a touchdown, just put the ball down in the endzone or hand it to the referee. Act like you've been there before, even if you haven't.
I wish we could have approached the event like an item on our to do list.
Wash the car Check
Walk the dog Check
Pick up milk Check
Kill bin Laden Check
Soccer practice Check
Basically, the Navy Seals just did their job. For all we know, it simply was an item on their overall to do list. And they got it done.
I think it bothers me some because of the way we always react whenever one of our innocent soldiers or a journalist is captured and sometimes killed. The people in support of that behavior are firing guns into the air and dancing for joy and we can't believe that other human beings would act that way.
I am in NO WAY comparing the mastermind, orchestrator of the worst attack on American soil to our innocent soldiers, do not misunderstand me for an instant. I had family in Washington DC on that morning who saw the Pentagon and in New York City in the midst the chaos. Billy and I had our picture made less than two weeks before standing in the courtyard of Towers I and II in front of the gold globe and the sky that morning was just as blue as it was when those planes flew into the Towers and we could have been there. So no, I am not comparing the evil of that one human being to anything good. I am glad the SOB was DOA and I say good riddance to bad rubbish, but still...
I wish that, collectively, we could have just handed the ball to the ref and moved on.
Because there will be others. They are already plotting. And for all I know we fueled their desire to wreak even more havoc. We may get a short respite. We have done some serious damage to the Al-Queda organization. But it is by no means over. We might have scored a touchdown, but there is still time on the clock.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
I Am 45 Today
And apparently I don't care who knows it.
I've always been a big birthday celebrant. (But I'm not fishing for birthday wishes, honest). I've always figured it was way better to have a birthday than to not have one. Beats the alternative I say. I will celebrate for weeks if allowed!
But today's birthday is a bit of a milestone, at least in my mind, and I thought I would reflect a little.
I've been really very blessed. I was raised in a good home. Parents that loved each other. Strong discipline. Good values. A wonderful foundation for becoming an independent adult. I'm lucky to still have my mother in my life. I won't pretend, though, that I don't miss my dad and wish that we could have had more years together.
I picked the right mate, the first time. I know not everyone is that lucky. I have a partner in my life that I cannot even imagine living without. He supports me. He challenges me. He stands beside me. And he loves me.
I have a sister that started as a typical little sister and became one of my best friends. It wasn't always that way, and I won't say otherwise. But we reached a point in college where a true friendship started to blossom and has grown into something that I'm really really glad I have. She's one of the first people I call when I need something, or just want to talk. We even check in every once in a while just to say hi.
And she's blessed me with two nephews and a niece that fill my maternal gap. I love those kids with all my heart and soul and would do anything for them.
I have dear friends that I've known practically all my life and know that they are never more than a phone call away. Very comforting. We don't have to see each other often, or even talk that much, but they are there and I know it and that is all I need, really.
And tons of family that have made my life so far so worth living. Uncles, aunts, cousins too numerous to name. You all know who you are and that I love you.
I have some skills that have enabled me to earn a nice living, and some others that allow me to have some fun. Explore my creative side.
And my days start and end with the unconditional love of 8 wonderful puppy dogs. Billy brought the first one into our lives less than 4 months into our marriage and we've never been without at least one since then. Matter of fact, there was only one for one year. We got the second precious baby almost exactly one year later and we've had multiples ever since. I can't begin to think about what my days would be like without them. I'm not sure I'd know how to act! Or that I'd even want to find out. They are a handful and a half, but they're ours.
I hope that I have longevity on my side. My grandmother turned 97 in February, so it's not beyond the realm of possibility! With all I've invested in Oil of Olay products (honestly, they owe me a Christmas card!) I hope that when I am 97, I won't look a day over 90.
But I also know that I have no guarantees. I lost an old friend last month who was the same age I am today. He didn't make it to his 46th birthday. Yes, it was largely the result of poor choices, but still. None of us have any promises of a tomorrow, much less a better tomorrow than today. When I think about how many emergency asthma attacks there were growing up, and the couple of times I almost drowned, well I have to say I'm just darn glad to be here!
So I know have to make the most of every day. And celebrate the birthdays! It honestly could be the last. I have to keep scratching things off my Bucket List and keep working at being the best me I can be. And never take for granted that, as much as I love Scarlett O'Hara, tomorrow is another day.
I've always been a big birthday celebrant. (But I'm not fishing for birthday wishes, honest). I've always figured it was way better to have a birthday than to not have one. Beats the alternative I say. I will celebrate for weeks if allowed!
But today's birthday is a bit of a milestone, at least in my mind, and I thought I would reflect a little.
I've been really very blessed. I was raised in a good home. Parents that loved each other. Strong discipline. Good values. A wonderful foundation for becoming an independent adult. I'm lucky to still have my mother in my life. I won't pretend, though, that I don't miss my dad and wish that we could have had more years together.
I picked the right mate, the first time. I know not everyone is that lucky. I have a partner in my life that I cannot even imagine living without. He supports me. He challenges me. He stands beside me. And he loves me.
I have a sister that started as a typical little sister and became one of my best friends. It wasn't always that way, and I won't say otherwise. But we reached a point in college where a true friendship started to blossom and has grown into something that I'm really really glad I have. She's one of the first people I call when I need something, or just want to talk. We even check in every once in a while just to say hi.
And she's blessed me with two nephews and a niece that fill my maternal gap. I love those kids with all my heart and soul and would do anything for them.
I have dear friends that I've known practically all my life and know that they are never more than a phone call away. Very comforting. We don't have to see each other often, or even talk that much, but they are there and I know it and that is all I need, really.
And tons of family that have made my life so far so worth living. Uncles, aunts, cousins too numerous to name. You all know who you are and that I love you.
I have some skills that have enabled me to earn a nice living, and some others that allow me to have some fun. Explore my creative side.
And my days start and end with the unconditional love of 8 wonderful puppy dogs. Billy brought the first one into our lives less than 4 months into our marriage and we've never been without at least one since then. Matter of fact, there was only one for one year. We got the second precious baby almost exactly one year later and we've had multiples ever since. I can't begin to think about what my days would be like without them. I'm not sure I'd know how to act! Or that I'd even want to find out. They are a handful and a half, but they're ours.
I hope that I have longevity on my side. My grandmother turned 97 in February, so it's not beyond the realm of possibility! With all I've invested in Oil of Olay products (honestly, they owe me a Christmas card!) I hope that when I am 97, I won't look a day over 90.
But I also know that I have no guarantees. I lost an old friend last month who was the same age I am today. He didn't make it to his 46th birthday. Yes, it was largely the result of poor choices, but still. None of us have any promises of a tomorrow, much less a better tomorrow than today. When I think about how many emergency asthma attacks there were growing up, and the couple of times I almost drowned, well I have to say I'm just darn glad to be here!
So I know have to make the most of every day. And celebrate the birthdays! It honestly could be the last. I have to keep scratching things off my Bucket List and keep working at being the best me I can be. And never take for granted that, as much as I love Scarlett O'Hara, tomorrow is another day.
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