A week ago today, Feb. 24, was a significant day for the two men who I have loved: my ex-husband Jim turned 70, and my beloved Tony retired.
Those are big steps.
Jim, I'm glad to report, had just come back from an extended trip through the Deep South with his wonderful wife Susan, and seems to be thriving and happy. I am lucky in that our divorce was fairly simple and that we remain friends. His wife was one of my students long, long ago when I taught high school in a little rural Missouri town. She attended the college where we worked, and we had some infrequent contact through the years. Several years ago she'd contacted Jim to see where I was, and they ended up dating and falling in love, and they married a few years ago. That makes me very happy.
Tony has been thinking of retirement for a long time, and it has been discussed, delayed several times for various reasons, and the timing debated for more than a year. Last Friday finally arrived, and he was given a good sendoff by his colleagues -- and he found it more emotional than expected. He has worked at a corporate job since he was 20 years old. As he likes to say, that was longer than the space shuttle flew, and it's now retired too.
So it's a new stage then in our lives, this state of not-working-for-a-paycheck. None too soon, either: both of us have discovered some health glitches that require some attention and focus, and some redirecting of our habits.
I expect that wrapping our heads around this will take time. I know that years ago when I left an extremely stressful job and moved to another state with my family that it took me about a year to thaw, and some very deliberate behavior-modification too: I remember making myself sit on the back deck swing for 10 minutes every day and just watch the squirrels and birds playing in the greenbelt. Eventually it worked. But I came out of that a changed person.
Our job now, as I see it, is to certainly take care of the routine things like cleaning, finances, property maintenance, and going through the old files and books that were part of our past jobs to sort, pitch, and give away what no longer isneeded.
But it is also to cultivate the spirit that we've neglected or not had time for: the fun-loving, adventurous, knowledge-seeking, creative inner self that we know is there, wanting to come out and play after all the years of being an adult.
And our job is also to make it happen sooner rather than later. We do not know how long we will live: few of us know that, ever. But there are enough stories about people who get unexpectedly dire diagnoses or who die in accidents to make us want to make our moments meaningful and full of the life we want to live. Our health glitches only make that clearer.
For a long time we have tried to live one day at a time. Truly now our restrictions are only those we impose on ourselves, and it is up to us to choose how to live each day of our lives, for the rest of our lives, as long as we can do that. It is a time for second chances and new beginnings, once again.
Showing posts with label birthdays. Show all posts
Showing posts with label birthdays. Show all posts
Friday, March 02, 2012
Friday, February 17, 2012
Celebrating a life -- loving a child
Thirty-six years ago today I lived in Columbia, Missouri, with my then-husband Jim. I was doing some freelance work for the association he worked for, and we'd been hoping to start a family one way or another, with no luck.
Just a week later we would celebrate his 34th birthday.
And about a week after that, I got a phone call as I was getting dressed to go into the association office to do some work.
It was the Boone County Social Services Office. They had a baby girl for us. Born Feb. 17, 8 lbs 13 oz.
We held her for the first time a day later, this then-blue-eyed, dark-haired butterball of a cherub, and the following day, two caseworkers brought her home to us.
It had been a long labor and delivery -- about four years total, as I recall. Biological parents have it easier: one lucky night, and you're pregnant. No home study, no questions about your marriage or your finances or your religion or what role you expect a child to hold in the family or your medical history.
A little more than a year later, she was ours legally, birth certificate duly changed and court-approved.
She was the center of our family from the first day, and we all loved her, grandparents and uncle too. She was a cherished child, a very much wanted addition to the family, and her life was documented in photos by her daddy from day one. We went through first day at school, soccer games, birthday parties, Girl Scouts, church choir and youth activities, first date, prom, and various academic achievements. We fought, we made up, we talked, we cried, we laughed.
My baby girl is 36 today. Except for those first two weeks or so of her life, I've been her mother. I remember things she doesn't. I know things about her that few others do. I love her like no other ever will. And I wish her happy birthday, happy, happy birthday, and hope for many more good ones. We will celebrate her tonight with gifts and dinner, and I'm grateful to have her close enough to do that.
***************
It has not all been fun nor good nor easy. Especially in the past several years, she has struggled with some monstrous demons, some of her own making, some not. I've wished many times that her problems were the ones I could kiss and make better, but they aren't, and I've had my own struggle to accept that I can't fix her or even help her sometimes. She has to do that herself, has to want to do that enough to do the work. Some days she does; some days she doesn't.
Most of us would not continue a relationship where we are treated poorly, lied to repeatedly, and disrespected -- and yet many of us were similarly scornful of our own parents, if not to their faces (in a different time and place and custom), certainly behind their backs! And yet they loved us still -- and we loved them because we were family. Even when we don't like them, we love our family.
Some parents and children seem to have it easier: maybe their karma allows that on this round, and they are so very blessed to have it. I hope they know how lucky they are.
My children have had issues and problems that have not been within my control: the only thing I can determine is how I allow their issues to impact my life. That's not news in these pages: I've written a lot about setting boundaries and working to rebuild fragile relationships. And I've also written about loving them.
I think it's remembering how much that child was wanted that keeps parents still loving the errant and difficult adult that sometimes emerges from that darling baby. It's hope that keeps us praying and sometimes lecturing and supporting them as they try -- or don't try -- to work their way through their issues. It's hope that keeps us wanting the best possible future for them, and hope that allows us to continue to walk beside them, holding their hands as they follow and falter on their life's path. No matter how dark it gets, may they always know that they are dearly and deeply loved!
.
Just a week later we would celebrate his 34th birthday.
And about a week after that, I got a phone call as I was getting dressed to go into the association office to do some work.
It was the Boone County Social Services Office. They had a baby girl for us. Born Feb. 17, 8 lbs 13 oz.
We held her for the first time a day later, this then-blue-eyed, dark-haired butterball of a cherub, and the following day, two caseworkers brought her home to us.
It had been a long labor and delivery -- about four years total, as I recall. Biological parents have it easier: one lucky night, and you're pregnant. No home study, no questions about your marriage or your finances or your religion or what role you expect a child to hold in the family or your medical history.
A little more than a year later, she was ours legally, birth certificate duly changed and court-approved.
She was the center of our family from the first day, and we all loved her, grandparents and uncle too. She was a cherished child, a very much wanted addition to the family, and her life was documented in photos by her daddy from day one. We went through first day at school, soccer games, birthday parties, Girl Scouts, church choir and youth activities, first date, prom, and various academic achievements. We fought, we made up, we talked, we cried, we laughed.
My baby girl is 36 today. Except for those first two weeks or so of her life, I've been her mother. I remember things she doesn't. I know things about her that few others do. I love her like no other ever will. And I wish her happy birthday, happy, happy birthday, and hope for many more good ones. We will celebrate her tonight with gifts and dinner, and I'm grateful to have her close enough to do that.
***************
It has not all been fun nor good nor easy. Especially in the past several years, she has struggled with some monstrous demons, some of her own making, some not. I've wished many times that her problems were the ones I could kiss and make better, but they aren't, and I've had my own struggle to accept that I can't fix her or even help her sometimes. She has to do that herself, has to want to do that enough to do the work. Some days she does; some days she doesn't.
Most of us would not continue a relationship where we are treated poorly, lied to repeatedly, and disrespected -- and yet many of us were similarly scornful of our own parents, if not to their faces (in a different time and place and custom), certainly behind their backs! And yet they loved us still -- and we loved them because we were family. Even when we don't like them, we love our family.
Some parents and children seem to have it easier: maybe their karma allows that on this round, and they are so very blessed to have it. I hope they know how lucky they are.
My children have had issues and problems that have not been within my control: the only thing I can determine is how I allow their issues to impact my life. That's not news in these pages: I've written a lot about setting boundaries and working to rebuild fragile relationships. And I've also written about loving them.
I think it's remembering how much that child was wanted that keeps parents still loving the errant and difficult adult that sometimes emerges from that darling baby. It's hope that keeps us praying and sometimes lecturing and supporting them as they try -- or don't try -- to work their way through their issues. It's hope that keeps us wanting the best possible future for them, and hope that allows us to continue to walk beside them, holding their hands as they follow and falter on their life's path. No matter how dark it gets, may they always know that they are dearly and deeply loved!
.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
20 things I wish I'd known earlier
I've been thinking about doing this list ever since I read this blog post on The Lettered Cottage. Layla Palmer illustrated hers with wonderful photos and included some of her favorite quotes, and I loved it.
So on the eve of my 64th birthday -- how did I get to be this old so fast! -- here are some things that I would tell my teenage self. I'm not putting photos here, but picture your own self as you were when you were a high school senior with all those dreams and desires and plans.
I probably wouldn't have listened carefully enough back then to have understood some of the ramifications of my actions and non-actions. And I probably wouldn't have believed some of the stories that I now tell about my life. But for what it's worth, here is what I would say now to my teenage self:
1. You are pretty, although I know you don't think so now. You're taller than average, yes, and you desperately envy the girls with the great hair and bubbly personalities who are "average" height and weight and build. But one day a man is going to fall head-over-heels in love with you and your long legs, your green eyes, your straight, fine hair, and your what-you-see-is-what-you-get personality, and he's going to tell you every day how loved you are, how pretty you are, and how lucky he is. You will feel like you won the lottery with him. Promise.
2. Your big voice that carries so far and that you try so hard to control will serve you well one day. People will want to hear your words.
3. Your mother and father love you more than you will understand for many years. Cherish the family times; listen to their stories; hug them every time you get the chance, and listen to their advice, even when it irritates the living crap out of you. One day you will miss hearing their voices so much that it makes you cry.
4. Not everyone is going to like you, and you aren't going to like some of them either, and that's okay. You don't have to be a people-pleaser; in fact, you'll be better off if you just be who you are instead of who you think they want you to be.
5. Listen more than you talk: you'll learn more that way. Everyone has a story that they want to tell someone.
6. And think before you speak: be sure the brain is engaged before the mouth opens. Your words carry a lot of weight: be sure your message is clear. You are very good at the quick, sarcastic comeback, but it can hurt others, and you really do not want to do that.
7. Take care of your body: parts wear out faster than you'd think.
8. Moisturize your neck. Really.
9. Write. Keep a journal. Remember stories and practice writing them down. You'll make money from writing, and you're good at it, better than you think you are. You will want to write a book.
10. Be easier on yourself. Disbar that critical judge that lives in your head who tells you all the shoulda-coulda-woulda stuff. Be who you really are, and love yourself.
11. Be kind, even when you do not feel kindly. There is not enough kindness, ever. Thumper had it right: "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all."
12. Be careful with the alcohol, the chocolate, the rich, fried, buttery foods. It is all about portion control. And you'll never not love sweets, but you'll eat more veggies than you could ever think.
13. Practice gratitude every day. Even on the worst days you can find something to be grateful for -- a hot shower, a cup of Earl Grey tea in your grandmother's china teacup, clean sheets. It makes things easier.
14. Ask for help. You do not have to do it all yourself. You CANNOT do it all yourself, although you'll try and suffer for it until you learn better.
15. Cherish your friends, but be sure you know who they are. Not everyone is trustworthy: guard your confidences.
16. Children are a mixed blessing. You will love your children more than you could imagine, but you will also suffer great pain when things happen to them that a kiss and a hug can't make better. This will always be true.
17. Live each day as though it were the only one you have, because you never know if it might be. Plan for the future, but live in the moment. And let go what is past: you can't change what happened.
18. Time speeds up as you get older. Do things you really want to do sooner than later. Listen to that little voice way deep inside you: it will steer you where you need to go even if others are telling you differently.
19. Be patient. Wait for what is right. This will be a lesson that keeps coming back to you, one day at a time.
20. Do. Not. Settle. Not for a relationship, not for a job, not for a dream. Get clear about what you want, and then make it happen. You have tremendous power within yourself.
What would you tell your 17-year-old self?
So on the eve of my 64th birthday -- how did I get to be this old so fast! -- here are some things that I would tell my teenage self. I'm not putting photos here, but picture your own self as you were when you were a high school senior with all those dreams and desires and plans.
I probably wouldn't have listened carefully enough back then to have understood some of the ramifications of my actions and non-actions. And I probably wouldn't have believed some of the stories that I now tell about my life. But for what it's worth, here is what I would say now to my teenage self:
1. You are pretty, although I know you don't think so now. You're taller than average, yes, and you desperately envy the girls with the great hair and bubbly personalities who are "average" height and weight and build. But one day a man is going to fall head-over-heels in love with you and your long legs, your green eyes, your straight, fine hair, and your what-you-see-is-what-you-get personality, and he's going to tell you every day how loved you are, how pretty you are, and how lucky he is. You will feel like you won the lottery with him. Promise.
2. Your big voice that carries so far and that you try so hard to control will serve you well one day. People will want to hear your words.
3. Your mother and father love you more than you will understand for many years. Cherish the family times; listen to their stories; hug them every time you get the chance, and listen to their advice, even when it irritates the living crap out of you. One day you will miss hearing their voices so much that it makes you cry.
4. Not everyone is going to like you, and you aren't going to like some of them either, and that's okay. You don't have to be a people-pleaser; in fact, you'll be better off if you just be who you are instead of who you think they want you to be.
5. Listen more than you talk: you'll learn more that way. Everyone has a story that they want to tell someone.
6. And think before you speak: be sure the brain is engaged before the mouth opens. Your words carry a lot of weight: be sure your message is clear. You are very good at the quick, sarcastic comeback, but it can hurt others, and you really do not want to do that.
7. Take care of your body: parts wear out faster than you'd think.
8. Moisturize your neck. Really.
9. Write. Keep a journal. Remember stories and practice writing them down. You'll make money from writing, and you're good at it, better than you think you are. You will want to write a book.
10. Be easier on yourself. Disbar that critical judge that lives in your head who tells you all the shoulda-coulda-woulda stuff. Be who you really are, and love yourself.
11. Be kind, even when you do not feel kindly. There is not enough kindness, ever. Thumper had it right: "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all."
12. Be careful with the alcohol, the chocolate, the rich, fried, buttery foods. It is all about portion control. And you'll never not love sweets, but you'll eat more veggies than you could ever think.
13. Practice gratitude every day. Even on the worst days you can find something to be grateful for -- a hot shower, a cup of Earl Grey tea in your grandmother's china teacup, clean sheets. It makes things easier.
14. Ask for help. You do not have to do it all yourself. You CANNOT do it all yourself, although you'll try and suffer for it until you learn better.
15. Cherish your friends, but be sure you know who they are. Not everyone is trustworthy: guard your confidences.
16. Children are a mixed blessing. You will love your children more than you could imagine, but you will also suffer great pain when things happen to them that a kiss and a hug can't make better. This will always be true.
17. Live each day as though it were the only one you have, because you never know if it might be. Plan for the future, but live in the moment. And let go what is past: you can't change what happened.
18. Time speeds up as you get older. Do things you really want to do sooner than later. Listen to that little voice way deep inside you: it will steer you where you need to go even if others are telling you differently.
19. Be patient. Wait for what is right. This will be a lesson that keeps coming back to you, one day at a time.
20. Do. Not. Settle. Not for a relationship, not for a job, not for a dream. Get clear about what you want, and then make it happen. You have tremendous power within yourself.
What would you tell your 17-year-old self?
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
June doings
It's not for lack of subjects or opinions that I haven't posted since early this month. I have plenty to say, as those who know me well will attest, and sometimes I'm sure they wish I'd shut up.
I participated in a mystery dinner theater mid month to benefit our county's branding project -- a fund raiser for a professional marketing and branding guru to create campaigns that highlight our county's biggest assets -- among them are wine and olives.
It was an experience. I've done this before, about five years ago, and it's fairly corny -- lots of scantily clad women (excluding me, I might add), chase scenes, cat fights, raunchy humor, and a thin plot. The crowd loved it. It was a sellout both nights. And it involved a fair bit of rehearsal that last week, and a lot of willingness to adapt and change. It wasn't a particularly artistic experience and I sure didn't 'stretch' my acting -- I mean, I can play overbearing and bitchy blindfolded with both hands tied behind my back -- but the cast members are wonderful and I loved nurturing those relationships. That was the payoff for me.
On top of that I'd waited until the 11th hour to finish the 45-hour required real estate coursework to renew my license for another four years, not that I really plan on using it. But it took a lot of work to get it and you never know... so I was studying and taking online tests during the early part of the month as well. It's done. I could indeed sell real estate again in California, under a licensed broker.
And then there was a memorial service for a woman we met only a few times but are good friends with her partner and wanted to support him. It was an amazing service and I only hope that when my time comes that people are as loving and generous with their tributes as we heard at this service.
One thing in particular made me wish I'd known her better. Her spiritual path was very important to her and she'd studied in India, worked with practitioners from various spiritual paths, and her service was held in a Christian church designed by Frank Lloyd Wright. She was completely comfortable incorporating ALL of these practices into her own spiritual belief system and embraced all of them -- I love that, and found that to be eye-opening, especially since there were so many others there who seemed to feel the same way. The service was a mashup of Eastern chants, Christian ritual, music from all of them, and poetry. Many were dancing at the end as a trio sang "The Great Storm"; my leaky face dripped tears because it was so perfect, such a joyous acknowledgement of who this woman was, of who we all can be.
There is no doubt that her children and our friend will miss her terribly, and there were moments of grief that just tore at your heart, but it was a great sending-off and ended with a reception and chocolate cake -- her wishes, since she was known for her desserts and homemade bread. She was only 65 and died of cancer -- a fairly prolonged death, hard on her and those who loved her.
Then this last Saturday, we recorded Tony's first radio theater script for New Radio Theater. His is an adaptation of Rudyard Kipling's Rikki-Tikki-Tavi, and a number of wonderful north state actors came together to interpret it. We were cast as the great cobra Nag and his wife Nagaina, and had a great time hissing evilly. This is Tony's first script and he was just delighted that it was accepted and recorded for play later in July. I'll put the date and time as soon as I know for sure. It was quite a red-letter day for him, and I was very proud of him and the end result. He's now at work on an original script.
And earlier in the month we had a lovely picnic with our now three-year-old grandson, his brothers and sister, and our daughter V in a park area near their home. Gabe took to the plasmacar that we gave him without any instruction and rode it all over the adjacent parking lot, as did the other kids and even his momma! It was a fun afternoon, a little piece of normalcy and celebration within a lot of busy-ness and turmoil.
That's the 'doing' stuff for this month. There has been more 'being' stuff going on too, some of which I'm still pondering and trying to figure out. Not all of it has been especially fun -- including the ongoing state of the economy and turmoil over the budget, and with that, Medicare and Social Security, topics which at our age loom quite large in our priorities. Change is afoot for our children again, and we have become pretty good at holding our opinions and tongues close, although it is an uneasy compromise at times.
And the month which began in rain and cool weather also draws to a close with more rain and cool temperatures today (although we'll be up to 100 this weekend again) -- unusual weather for these parts, welcome though it was. Friday will bring a new month with new beginnings and who knows what endings we may find.
I participated in a mystery dinner theater mid month to benefit our county's branding project -- a fund raiser for a professional marketing and branding guru to create campaigns that highlight our county's biggest assets -- among them are wine and olives.
It was an experience. I've done this before, about five years ago, and it's fairly corny -- lots of scantily clad women (excluding me, I might add), chase scenes, cat fights, raunchy humor, and a thin plot. The crowd loved it. It was a sellout both nights. And it involved a fair bit of rehearsal that last week, and a lot of willingness to adapt and change. It wasn't a particularly artistic experience and I sure didn't 'stretch' my acting -- I mean, I can play overbearing and bitchy blindfolded with both hands tied behind my back -- but the cast members are wonderful and I loved nurturing those relationships. That was the payoff for me.
On top of that I'd waited until the 11th hour to finish the 45-hour required real estate coursework to renew my license for another four years, not that I really plan on using it. But it took a lot of work to get it and you never know... so I was studying and taking online tests during the early part of the month as well. It's done. I could indeed sell real estate again in California, under a licensed broker.
And then there was a memorial service for a woman we met only a few times but are good friends with her partner and wanted to support him. It was an amazing service and I only hope that when my time comes that people are as loving and generous with their tributes as we heard at this service.
One thing in particular made me wish I'd known her better. Her spiritual path was very important to her and she'd studied in India, worked with practitioners from various spiritual paths, and her service was held in a Christian church designed by Frank Lloyd Wright. She was completely comfortable incorporating ALL of these practices into her own spiritual belief system and embraced all of them -- I love that, and found that to be eye-opening, especially since there were so many others there who seemed to feel the same way. The service was a mashup of Eastern chants, Christian ritual, music from all of them, and poetry. Many were dancing at the end as a trio sang "The Great Storm"; my leaky face dripped tears because it was so perfect, such a joyous acknowledgement of who this woman was, of who we all can be.
There is no doubt that her children and our friend will miss her terribly, and there were moments of grief that just tore at your heart, but it was a great sending-off and ended with a reception and chocolate cake -- her wishes, since she was known for her desserts and homemade bread. She was only 65 and died of cancer -- a fairly prolonged death, hard on her and those who loved her.
Then this last Saturday, we recorded Tony's first radio theater script for New Radio Theater. His is an adaptation of Rudyard Kipling's Rikki-Tikki-Tavi, and a number of wonderful north state actors came together to interpret it. We were cast as the great cobra Nag and his wife Nagaina, and had a great time hissing evilly. This is Tony's first script and he was just delighted that it was accepted and recorded for play later in July. I'll put the date and time as soon as I know for sure. It was quite a red-letter day for him, and I was very proud of him and the end result. He's now at work on an original script.
And earlier in the month we had a lovely picnic with our now three-year-old grandson, his brothers and sister, and our daughter V in a park area near their home. Gabe took to the plasmacar that we gave him without any instruction and rode it all over the adjacent parking lot, as did the other kids and even his momma! It was a fun afternoon, a little piece of normalcy and celebration within a lot of busy-ness and turmoil.
That's the 'doing' stuff for this month. There has been more 'being' stuff going on too, some of which I'm still pondering and trying to figure out. Not all of it has been especially fun -- including the ongoing state of the economy and turmoil over the budget, and with that, Medicare and Social Security, topics which at our age loom quite large in our priorities. Change is afoot for our children again, and we have become pretty good at holding our opinions and tongues close, although it is an uneasy compromise at times.
And the month which began in rain and cool weather also draws to a close with more rain and cool temperatures today (although we'll be up to 100 this weekend again) -- unusual weather for these parts, welcome though it was. Friday will bring a new month with new beginnings and who knows what endings we may find.
Friday, October 01, 2010
Five on Friday
Before I leave town for a week with my BFF Julie in Indianapolis, I want to do the 'Friday Five' -- starting out this new month with something written, this 10th month of the year, this countdown to the end of the year. (Today is also my cousin Joy's 60th birthday -- which means that my little brother's 60th birthday is next Friday. Welcome to a new decade!)
What was the last thing you dropped on the kitchen floor?
That would be a piece of mushroom as I was chopping it to go in this morning's omelet. I picked it up and yes, I threw it in the compost pot. If it had been chocolate, I would have invoked the 'if I saw it fall it's fine' rule and eaten it.
What cough drops do you like, and do they work very well?
I don't like cough drops because that means if I'm using them, I probably have a cold that has gone into my chest. Yuk. I prefer to ward off a cold with Wellness Formula first, if I'm feeling tickly-in-the-throat, or, if it does erupt into that stuffy sort-of-sick feeling that indicates something is going on, I start on Cold FX. Both of those remedies usually ward off a full-blown cold. And that said, if I MUST use a cough drop, I like Fisherman's Friend because they sort of explode their menthol-y taste into my (stuffy) nose and down my (scratchy) throat. Do they work? Eh. They help in that they generate saliva to combat the dryness and menthol to help the stuffies. Don't know that any of them work all that well.
Who was the last person you dropped off somewhere?
Probably Princess #1. When we need to do errands in town, I usually pick her up and I drive.
When were you ever dropped like a bad habit?
Friendships take on many roles during our lives. There is an e-mail that has made the rounds -- I believe I've written about it previously -- about 'reason-season-lifetime' friendships. It's not usually until you look back at the friendship that you can identify the kind that it is/was.
I've had 'reason' friendships that I recognized as such pretty quickly -- especially those who were in my life as teachers to learn something I needed to know -- or to teach them something -- at that time in my life. I still wonder about some of those people (I like to know the whole story!), but they are no longer active participants in my life. I am grateful for what I learned, for the experience of knowing them, for the part I played in their lives and them in mine.
The 'season' friendships can also be a learning experience, a time to grow, to laugh, to play, to cherish the moments that are there. Sometimes these can grow into 'lifetime' friendships, but that takes time and track.
I've been part of social groups in the past that were close, had a great time together, shared some experiences, and then just drifted apart for no discernible reason -- the people involved found new interests, had additional responsibilities, were not available to get together because of family or travel or ... whatever.
That's been the source of some hurt feelings in the past, too, because I always tend to blame myself when a friendship drifts into an acquaintance state (what did I say to cause this? what did I do? can I make it better? yikes!), and I have to re-learn the lesson that I am not responsible for other people's actions or feelings, and accept that I probably had nothing to do with the reasons the friendship has waned, and that a friendship requires both sides to engage and nurture it if it is to continue or grow. If just one person wants it, it ain't gonna happen no matter what you say or do. And that hurts, at least for a while.
The 'lifetime' friends are the ones who are there no matter what, and if you have more than one of these, you are indeed lucky. I'm going to see Julie, my lifetime friend, although we haven't been together for four years. But we both have nurtured the relationship through letters, e-mails, and phone calls for around 28 years now, despite divorces, surgeries, illnesses, and traumatic and horrifying revelations. We have a bond that has lasted through the whole mess and will until the end of our lives, I believe.
What are your favorite kind of raindrops?
I like ANY kind of raindrops in this neck of the woods where we get rain only from November-April most years. I miss the daily thunderstorms and warm rains of the Deep South, the smell of rain that cleanses and refreshes everything, the almost iridescent green glow of the leaves and grasses when the sun comes back out. In northern California, we get the rain smell, sorta, but it is the smell of the dirt sucking it in like a dying man in the desert finding an oasis. Thunderstorms are a bit scary because of the extreme fire danger during the late spring and fall, until the rains begin again and the earth comes back to life. I love the lazy rain, the one that soaks in and caresses each brown blade of grass, nurtures and coaxes it back to green. I'm looking forward to what I hope will be another wet, cold winter here. (The kitty forecast says it will be: our outside boys are fattening up and their fur coats are thick and heavy already.)
It is a new beginning again, this day, another month, one that will see us transition between the hot days of summer into the cool, wetter fall. I love October.
What was the last thing you dropped on the kitchen floor?
That would be a piece of mushroom as I was chopping it to go in this morning's omelet. I picked it up and yes, I threw it in the compost pot. If it had been chocolate, I would have invoked the 'if I saw it fall it's fine' rule and eaten it.
What cough drops do you like, and do they work very well?
I don't like cough drops because that means if I'm using them, I probably have a cold that has gone into my chest. Yuk. I prefer to ward off a cold with Wellness Formula first, if I'm feeling tickly-in-the-throat, or, if it does erupt into that stuffy sort-of-sick feeling that indicates something is going on, I start on Cold FX. Both of those remedies usually ward off a full-blown cold. And that said, if I MUST use a cough drop, I like Fisherman's Friend because they sort of explode their menthol-y taste into my (stuffy) nose and down my (scratchy) throat. Do they work? Eh. They help in that they generate saliva to combat the dryness and menthol to help the stuffies. Don't know that any of them work all that well.
Who was the last person you dropped off somewhere?
Probably Princess #1. When we need to do errands in town, I usually pick her up and I drive.
When were you ever dropped like a bad habit?
Friendships take on many roles during our lives. There is an e-mail that has made the rounds -- I believe I've written about it previously -- about 'reason-season-lifetime' friendships. It's not usually until you look back at the friendship that you can identify the kind that it is/was.
I've had 'reason' friendships that I recognized as such pretty quickly -- especially those who were in my life as teachers to learn something I needed to know -- or to teach them something -- at that time in my life. I still wonder about some of those people (I like to know the whole story!), but they are no longer active participants in my life. I am grateful for what I learned, for the experience of knowing them, for the part I played in their lives and them in mine.
The 'season' friendships can also be a learning experience, a time to grow, to laugh, to play, to cherish the moments that are there. Sometimes these can grow into 'lifetime' friendships, but that takes time and track.
I've been part of social groups in the past that were close, had a great time together, shared some experiences, and then just drifted apart for no discernible reason -- the people involved found new interests, had additional responsibilities, were not available to get together because of family or travel or ... whatever.
That's been the source of some hurt feelings in the past, too, because I always tend to blame myself when a friendship drifts into an acquaintance state (what did I say to cause this? what did I do? can I make it better? yikes!), and I have to re-learn the lesson that I am not responsible for other people's actions or feelings, and accept that I probably had nothing to do with the reasons the friendship has waned, and that a friendship requires both sides to engage and nurture it if it is to continue or grow. If just one person wants it, it ain't gonna happen no matter what you say or do. And that hurts, at least for a while.
The 'lifetime' friends are the ones who are there no matter what, and if you have more than one of these, you are indeed lucky. I'm going to see Julie, my lifetime friend, although we haven't been together for four years. But we both have nurtured the relationship through letters, e-mails, and phone calls for around 28 years now, despite divorces, surgeries, illnesses, and traumatic and horrifying revelations. We have a bond that has lasted through the whole mess and will until the end of our lives, I believe.
What are your favorite kind of raindrops?
I like ANY kind of raindrops in this neck of the woods where we get rain only from November-April most years. I miss the daily thunderstorms and warm rains of the Deep South, the smell of rain that cleanses and refreshes everything, the almost iridescent green glow of the leaves and grasses when the sun comes back out. In northern California, we get the rain smell, sorta, but it is the smell of the dirt sucking it in like a dying man in the desert finding an oasis. Thunderstorms are a bit scary because of the extreme fire danger during the late spring and fall, until the rains begin again and the earth comes back to life. I love the lazy rain, the one that soaks in and caresses each brown blade of grass, nurtures and coaxes it back to green. I'm looking forward to what I hope will be another wet, cold winter here. (The kitty forecast says it will be: our outside boys are fattening up and their fur coats are thick and heavy already.)
It is a new beginning again, this day, another month, one that will see us transition between the hot days of summer into the cool, wetter fall. I love October.
Friday, November 21, 2008
Marking another year
Today is my birthday, my 61st, another year into this seventh decade of my life.
It feels like such a short time since I turned 60 last year, and THAT is one of the great lessons of aging: as we age, time speeds up. I want time for this birthday. I want good, quality time. And I guess it's up to me to make my minutes and hours and days to be just that, hm.
In this last year my hair is longer, greyer. My face has more lines in it. The texture of my skin is changing, although it smooths when I slather on rich moisturizing cream (lesson for those of you who may be under 40 -- always, always moisturize your face and neck and arms and legs).
My braces are off. My smile is big.
We spent time with extended family in Nashville and in Ashland. We watched movies, TV, read. We survived several days without electricity and a summer of smoke and fires. We got mad and we got over it. We laughed with our wonderful Red Bluff circle of friends.
We have an adult child living with us again.
Through it all there is a common thread: we create our own destiny. We are responsible for the choices we make and the consequences of those choices. We get to choose whether to be happy or sad, to be grateful or to be angry, to change or to stagnate.
There are days when that is the only thing that makes sense to me -- that we have a choice about our actions. It isn't that I always like the alternatives, but there ARE choices, even in harsh economic situations and unsettling times.
We do all we can, where we are, with what we've got.
That'll get me through this next year too, with the hope and many prayers that if I keep putting one foot in front of the other and keep a grateful heart and stay open to the goodness of the Universe, we will be all right.
Can't speak for anyone else: what they do is THEIRS, not mine, to manage.
But I will be okay.
I am so grateful to see all those grey hairs and life-lines in my mirror, and to begin another year. I am grateful to have second chances and new beginnings at life. I am HUGELY blessed by a wonderful circle of friends and girlfriends in this little town, who have already honored me with wonderful food and parties and gifts, and who continue to hold me close in their hearts with love and kindness.
I hope I return to them some of the joy and love they give to me.
May I never lose sight of the gratitude of this moment, this day. It is all we have, right now.
It feels like such a short time since I turned 60 last year, and THAT is one of the great lessons of aging: as we age, time speeds up. I want time for this birthday. I want good, quality time. And I guess it's up to me to make my minutes and hours and days to be just that, hm.
In this last year my hair is longer, greyer. My face has more lines in it. The texture of my skin is changing, although it smooths when I slather on rich moisturizing cream (lesson for those of you who may be under 40 -- always, always moisturize your face and neck and arms and legs).
My braces are off. My smile is big.
We spent time with extended family in Nashville and in Ashland. We watched movies, TV, read. We survived several days without electricity and a summer of smoke and fires. We got mad and we got over it. We laughed with our wonderful Red Bluff circle of friends.
We have an adult child living with us again.
Through it all there is a common thread: we create our own destiny. We are responsible for the choices we make and the consequences of those choices. We get to choose whether to be happy or sad, to be grateful or to be angry, to change or to stagnate.
There are days when that is the only thing that makes sense to me -- that we have a choice about our actions. It isn't that I always like the alternatives, but there ARE choices, even in harsh economic situations and unsettling times.
We do all we can, where we are, with what we've got.
That'll get me through this next year too, with the hope and many prayers that if I keep putting one foot in front of the other and keep a grateful heart and stay open to the goodness of the Universe, we will be all right.
Can't speak for anyone else: what they do is THEIRS, not mine, to manage.
But I will be okay.
I am so grateful to see all those grey hairs and life-lines in my mirror, and to begin another year. I am grateful to have second chances and new beginnings at life. I am HUGELY blessed by a wonderful circle of friends and girlfriends in this little town, who have already honored me with wonderful food and parties and gifts, and who continue to hold me close in their hearts with love and kindness.
I hope I return to them some of the joy and love they give to me.
May I never lose sight of the gratitude of this moment, this day. It is all we have, right now.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)