Week Twenty-Two - Memorial Day Gratitude

I grew up in a military family.... Air Force... the branch that loves to go off into the wild, blue yonder.  Memorial Day celebrations were a huge part of my childhood.  Generally big parades, laying on of the wreaths, fly-overs, and taps, all focused on honoring those who made the ultimate sacrifice for us and our freedom.    I’ve also  been to these celebrations in many different cities in the United States as well as overseas.  All one has to do is travel to another part of the world to truly appreciate the privileges our forefathers and military have fought to obtain for us.  No Memorial Day left a greater impact on me, than the one spent in our nations capital at Arlington National Cemetery, witnessing endless rows of white crosses spilling over the horizon, .  The enormity of the price paid for us to live in freedom is unimaginable and the tangible reflection, on those hallowed grounds, is overpowering.  Even as a child I felt a surge of gratitude and awe.    

I will be the first to confess to whining and complaining about our government, the state of our economy, the current climate of division, narcissism and pettiness.  It seems I do it more than I should these days.  Maybe this is something I should change.... or maybe not..... I am allowed a voice here in this United States of America.  First and foremost, I am not going to be jailed for all my complaining.  I have freedom of speech.  I also have the freedom to read any book I choose, own property, and start my own business.  I am free to worship within any religion I want and choose my own version of God, or not. I am free to gather with other like-minded Americans and peacefully protest.  This list could go on and on.  

Sure, we all hear of an exception to the rule, and could march this out as an example of how democracy isn’t working.  We can choose to see that our rights are slowly being taken away from us, and I have been guilty of that mindset from time to time too.  Yet in this country, no one can take away our rights, unless we allow them to.  Unless..... we become complacent about voting, not being proactive in our political system;  even at a local level.  We can make a difference too.  We are free to demonstrate, write our Congressmen, speak and write... out loud, promote, and come together for change and our better tomorrow.  This is how much of our change has been implemented.  You don’t like the current policies and laws, make a sacrifice, speak out, stop buying, stop donating, stop participating, be a mosquito caught inside your Congressman's shirt, make some noise,  stop electing.  The easier softer way doesn’t really lead to strength and change, it leads to complacency, and mindlessness.  Think about the sense of values of the service men and woman who gladly went to war to protect human rights, yours and mine.  What about those sacrifices....their lives. We can give our voices, our time, our protestations, our votes.   

The greatest generations continue to protect and treasure those rights,  fight to keep, and honor those things this country was founded on... “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness ...

WooHoo to this great country of ours, just as it is, and,  for all of its potential.  

WooHoo to men and women everywhere who are willing to unconditionally sacrifice all, to keep us free and safe.  May our Creator  continue to bless America. 

My gratitude this week is for the gift of exposure to the price of freedom reflected in many Memorial Days.   It's taught my heart that nothing worth having has ever been obtained without some degree of sacrifice, integrity, and comittment.   I grew up on this poem and to this day,  I am always moved to tears by the last line. 

 HIGH FLIGHT

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
of sun-split clouds, — and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of—wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov’ring there,
I’ve chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air....
Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I’ve topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark nor even eagle flew—
And, while with silent lifting mind I’ve trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

John Gillespie Magee

Week Twenty-One - Do what you love - Reminders from the Dancing Queen -WooHoo....

This weekend was the annual dance recital my two younger grand-daughters participate in every year.  The oldest one took dance for five years, and a few years ago decided she just didn’t want to do it anymore.  As with most things she does, she did it well, but it was apparent her last year, her enjoyment had waned.  It wasn’t that her technique and form wasn’t impeccable, but the delight at performing had been erased from her face.  She looked miserable.  She’s moved forward and trying on other interests to express her creativity.  That’s what kids should be encouraged to do;  experiment.   So many parents live vicariously through their off-spring.  While there is nothing wrong with watching your child pursue something you loved as well in your youth, it’s selfish to pound home your own lost dreams into shapes that don’t fit; taking the square peg and working the edges to fit into the circle, with your children.   A bloodline doesn’t make for common interests and talents.  Mommy and daddy don’t do that in this household.  Oh, I am sure there is a part of daddy that hopes for an athlete out of the three, and mommy of course wants a singer, musician, performer or designer.  Nonetheless, these kids are encouraged to try a variety of things, and instructed that when they do something, they give it their best shot for a good amount of time.  No quitting. Then, if they still find they aren’t deriving something positive, or finding pleasure in it, they can move on.   These girls have dabbled in quite a number of hobbies, sports, and arts.   Sydney, my middle grandchild has discovered her niche.  She is passionate about dance.  

When she’s home, and has spare time, she’s dancing.  Or, practicing her kicks, splits, and moves. She really dances everywhere.  Even in play, her body moves in the form of a dance.  For her birthday, the gift she wanted the most was a simple stretchy chord.  It fits over a doorway and is a tool to practice stretching your leg muscles, so you can kick higher and be more flexible.  Seriously!  No toys, no games... a stretchy chord. Clearly dance is her love.  She mimics the dancers on Dancing With The Stars, and practices her stage smile with every move.  She really doesn’t have to work at the smile. Once her body begins to move, her cheeks burst forth and the corners of her mouth stretch wide like arms reaching out, dancing in joy.  BIG SMILE!   Her sassiness and delight in moving, posing, and allowing her body to simply flow into forms, is infectious.   She drew everyone in at the recital.   She also basks in all of the admiration and I think she derives genuine pleasure in entertaining.  The attention drives her to work harder and be more creative.   

I was in awe of her.... Her assurance, while on that stage, was palpable and reverberated in every tap of her little shoes.  I don’t ever recall having that kind of self-confidence, especially at age nine.  It was both astonishing and mesmerizing to watch.  

There were a few takeaway messages as I left the recital.  First, when we are doing what we love, it all comes naturally to us.  It's when we are in that space, we make our  most divine contribution to others.  Second, there is as much, if not more, delight in watching someone you loves’ greatness evolve as there is in realizing our own dreams.  It’s a healthy way of vicariously living through others. When we are watching someone else’s passion come to life,  it conjures up those feelings of delight in finding our own purpose and breathes new life into our commitment to live what we love.  What could possibly be better than to know so undeniably, you are doing exactly what you were created to do?  That is what I saw and felt watching Miss Sydney on stage.  

WooHoo to the pursuit of doing what you love and the rest will follow.  

Week Nineteen - Super Moon Blinded me to my WooHoo

This week I’m scratching for a woohoo.  I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. I’m not.  I wouldn’t need to even put much thought into making a list of blessings. First, and foremost, God’s never ending presence and protection in my life.  I have a place to live. Perhaps it isn’t where I want to be, but it must be where God needs me to be, for now.  It keeps me warm and dry and it is rather comfortable inside, even if it is falling down around my head on the outside.  I have more food than I need; witness that stubborn little cushy stuff around my belly that refuses to budge.  I have a beautiful little family.  Small, but their hearts are enormous, and it's reflected in their love for me.  Quality as opposed to quantity.  I’ve had an amazing life. Just writing about those few things evoke feelings of humility and thankfulness.  God’s grace over the years is a topic I could write about non-stop for the rest of my days. Maybe I should.  

 So, what’s up? Could it have been the Super Moon last Saturday night?  This moon wasn’t just full, it was closer to the earth and brighter than it will be the rest of 2012.  I was out of town, maybe it seemed larger there. I stood outside at 2 a.m., mesmerized by its enormity and brilliant, vibrating light.  That may have played a role in my restless state.  Too much moonlight and the tides in my mind have come rushing in overwhelming me some.   I’m slightly disappointed in what I perceive to be my lack of progress.  I’m not good at this waiting stuff, nor, do I particularly enjoy monotony in my life.  Intellectual and social stimulation as well as getting out into this world to see what's new, are badly needed transfusions to my soul right now.   I seem to be trapped in this cage with the career path, money, and new environments beyond my reach.... for now.  That's just a fact.  But, I am applying all my best "wishes fulfilled principles" and envisioning my abundance, prosperity, and lots of love.  Intellectual stimulation; I can’t afford to take a class.  Social stimulation;  I live in a very small town and have been unable to get rid of my house and move elsewhere. Bottom line, sadly, I think, is the area I live in is conducive to predictability, and routine.  I suppose there's a beauty in that for some.  Occasionally, I have wished I was the kind of person who comfortably settles into sameness, plodding along with the same scenery, routine, and people.   It's just not who I am.  I love change, new experiences, and engaging, provocative personalities to spend time with.  I’m disgruntled too.  In no way does that mean I want to give up, it just means perhaps its time to take some different approaches in the hopes of seeing a different result.  I don’t know what that is, yet and because I don't, it  has me immobilized some. 

When I get restless like this, it’s my pattern to want to hole up, isolate and just listen into the silence for some direction.  While I know too much time alone isn’t good for my sanity, and in the past I have done that more often than I should have- - - shut off and down- -  some reflection does work in centering me again and often reveals new ideas.  I was reading something the other day by a young 20 something year old writer. It was an exercise to stimulate creativity and acknowledge growth.  I liked it and thought  at the very least, taking the time to do it, should show me areas of personal growth and maybe even enlighten me some. Nothing remains the same nor should it. 

This exercise calls for a counseling session with a decade younger me. I am going to take a look back, over my life in ten year segments (Lordy, I have a few of them) Maybe that will help put my journey in perspective, and allow me to see, everything arrives when we are ready for it, including the wisdom.    So, what would 28 year old Becky say to 18 year old me?  What would I tell 28 year old Becky at 38? You get the picture.... Stay tuned over the next few weeks.  If nothing else, it's writing practice.  

In the meantime, my Woohoo for the week is focused on family.  

1.  My step-mom who hosted me last weekend.  We talked non-stop for two full days.  We always do, no matter how much time we spend with each other.  I’ve spent two weeks on vacation with her, and we still didn’t run out of things to say!    I am so blessed to have this kind of connection with her and I know it. 

2.  My littlest granddaughter’s first tee ball game, ever.   Pink batting caps and all, these little girls did a fine job.  I fear the competitor in her has overridden her honest nature.  She told me the biggest fish story when I arrived at the game into the second inning.  She got LOTS OF HOME RUNS she said. 

3.  My middle granddaughter’s first game of the season, and she pitched.  She is a pip-squeak with the heart of a bull.  She really  drilled it in there a few times.  

4.  My oldest grand-daughter’s first band concert, ever.  She’s in fifth grade and following in her mom’s lip-prints, playing her mother’s old trumpet from high school. They sounded pretty good.... seriously! 

5.  My daughter, son-in-law and three girls for hosting me for a cookout Sunday, on Mother’s Day.  Anything on a grill is real treat for me, since I don’t have one.  Burgers, asparagus, and grilled pineapple.... awesome.  And, just to contribute to my commitment to exercise excellence, I got a new Yoga Ball and Yoga bag!  I think I am hanging up those running shoes.  Who’s idea was it to put a 5K on my bucket list anyway?   I think it was that shadow me, the people pleaser, trying to fit in or impress. I love watching those graceful gazelle types run.   On me, it just looks like I'm getting ready to go into an apocalyptic fit. I now think it was that sense of achievement I was seeking.  I can do that mastering a Zumba dance, increasing the resistance on my bike in spin class,  or breathing further into a stretch with Yoga practice.  I’m at that life stage, if it isn’t fun or gentle on the spirit and joints, I’m really not all that interested.  I've already walked enough of the pain = gain path in my lifetime.   Hey, that sounds like something 58 year old me will be telling those other me’s.  Be authentic. 

6.  Oh, and a late breaking woohoo.  My brother called and left me a message.   He wants me to come back out to heaven for a visit.  What better place to be inspired than the vitality, and ethereal beauty of Carmel, Big Sur, and Monterey?  Really, I think if he had his way, he would love to see me move there. Writing on the cliffs overlooking the sea, well, that's the stuff my dreams are made of.   If I could pick up the rest of the little family and move them along too, I wouldn't even look back over my shoulder!  

WooHoo to the one constant in my life, the love of my  family.  It is truly unconditional. Their support of me has always been present, even when they didn't agree with my actions, or like my decisions.  And, that is the perfect reflection of God's love for me.... loving me no matter what.    ALWAYS.   What a lucky lady I am to be enveloped in this kind of acceptance. WooHoo.

Week Eighteen -Any man can be a father, but it takes a REAL MAN to be a Daddy.......

Barbie attends the Football Game- The life
of a Manly-Man with three daughters....

 One of the best young men I know turned 38 last week.  My son-in-law.  I’ve not written about him yet. So often we take the faithful and consistent things for granted.   When he and my daughter first met, I liked him a great deal, but my husband was enamored from the first phone call.  First off, he called him, “Sir” and asked him if it was okay, to call after 9 p.m.  Manners, a rare trait for a young college student!   I also remember the night she first met him.  She woke me from a sound sleep, stars in her eyes and said, “Mom, I met a nice boy.”   Those were her exact words... a nice boy.  At first introduction, I knew she was right. 

They dated for a few years while she was still in College.  He graduated and began working in his chosen career.  She was still undecided about her major, life, and what she really wanted to be when she grew up.  Finally, graduation day loomed for her and a wedding was on the horizon a few months later.  He became a beloved leaf on a limb of this very complicated, multi- branched, family tree of ours.  Simply figuring the connections between his new wife and her many sets of grandparents, gave him an A+ in our eyes in the art of adaptability.  To top it all off, he and his new bride were dealing with the illness and pending death of her beloved step-dad, his new father-in-law.  Some pretty large emotional challenges for a young man entering a state of union and new living arrangements too.  Dealing with the grief  (his own as well) of such a profound loss,  could have been overwhelming for many weaker knee’d men.  Not for Scott.  He stepped up, tucked his new bride under one arm and her mother under another, and comforted his, new extended family.  

I had my concerns early on, in those dating years.  Rather than being two peas in a pod, they seemed to be polar opposites.   She loved to spend money, lots of money... He was tighter than a new pair of leather shoes.  She was a drama queen.  He was practical and even keel.  She had huge goals for herself and their future.  He was content with what he had, right in front of him.   What I later came to recognize is in the  things that mattered, they clicked.  They both desired God be at the center of their marriage and knew how important it was to share their spiritual lives.  They both couldn’t wait to be parents.  They enjoyed each other’s company.  They enjoyed other people’s company;  their friends, and families.  They both were kind, giving people; concerned about their fellow man and interested in making a difference in their little community.   And when the children came, each one, I was in awe of their parenting skills, the pride they took in their girls and their desire to raise, nice, young women...together.  With the things that were important, love and values, they were a match made in heaven.  

From the beginning, Scott was a hands on daddy, getting up in the middle of the night, feeding, changing diapers and rocking babies back to sleep.  He stuck his little girls in a little pouch that hung on the front of his body, and hauled them around the house with him, while he did his work.  He bathed them, washed their hair, blew it dry and combed it.  When they got older, and mommy was away for the weekend, he would devise special games;  daddy and his girls time, catching lightening bugs in Mason jars, running around outside in the dark.  He arranged treasure hunts, and let them somersault off the coach onto the cushions on the floor.  They put the sleeping bags in the living room and had a camp out, with movies.   It was their secret adventure.  Shhh.... no telling mommy.  

As a husband, this is a man, who leaves little notes of endearment on the computer screen, waiting to be pulled up and make his wife's day.  Messages of support and love via text message, and hand written loving thoughts, treasures to be pulled up on those rainy days all relationships have.  He gives massages, (even feet) and has the wine and  warm baths ready.   He encourages her to be the best she can be, in her business, and it’s not at all unique for him to give a sales pitch to one of his own co-workers, or clients tooting her horn loudly and drumming up some future business for her! 

At work, his patients know the names of his children, the things they like, and their unique little personalities.  Frequently my daughter will encounter one of his patients only to  have them ask how Sydney’s dance routine is coming, or if Alex still is begging for a phone for her birthday.  He’s proud of his family and it’s reflected in every area of his life.  This in no way diminishes his professionalism or popularity as a therapist.  I swear he has treated every member of our small community, and the first words out of everyone’s mouth when they find out, I am his mother-in-law, is, “ Scott's  a a great guy, I just love him.”   He is the celebrity therapist locally.

Some of his best qualities are his sense of fairness, integrity in all his dealings, honesty (sometimes painfully so), his love of family:  all the way down to his cousins, his ability to not take ANYTHING personal and his acceptance of life on life’s terms.  He is happy where he is, never restless, always willing to lend a hand to a friend and neighbor.  His love for God, his wife and little girls shines brightly.   And, his patience living in a household of four females, borders on award winning.  This is a  true manly man, who sits through dance recitals, little girl meltdowns, mood swings, mermaid dolls in his bathtub, and Princess band aids for everyone’s boo-boo’s. This is a man who can’t even watch his beloved football without Barbie and family stopping by to watch the game with him.  

 I couldn’t pick a better husband for my daughter, or father for my granddaughters. I know his    qualities and expression of unconditional love are the things those little girls will look for in a future mate.  I can hear it now, “He’s a nice guy, but he  sure doesn’t hold a candle to my dad!”  

Woo Hoo  to this man who has set the bar high when it comes to the Measure of a Man for our beloved girls! 

Not- How did he die? But - How did he live? 

Not - What did he gain? But - What did he give?  

These are the things that measure the worth 

Of a man as a man, regardless of birth.

Not- what was his station?  But- had he a heart?

And - How did he play his God-given part?

Was he every ready with a word of good cheer?

To bring back a smile, to banish a tear?

Not what was his church?  Not - What was his creed?

But - Had he befriended those really in need?

Not- What did the sketch in the newspaper say?

But- How many were sorry when he passed away?

These are the things that measure the worth - 

Of a man, as a man, regardless of birth.