The Politics of Kindness

Yesterday I finally gave up and went to see my doctor.  After dealing with vague physical symptoms for eight days,  I decided it wasn't a figment of my imagination, nor was I going to get over it on my own.  As luck would have it, the two times a year when we have beautiful weather in southeast Texas, is also the time when I suffer from allergies.  The end result is generally a sinus infection.  I'm a little early for my fall bout with this pesky condition, but nonetheless, the usual symptoms began. 


I do what I always do, I wait a week to be sure I am not over reacting then I go see my doctor.  In my twenties, thirties, and forties, a doctor was someone I went to once a year - if that - and with whom I had no true personal relationship.  Not having born children I did not go through that bonding experience with an obstetrician or pediatrician the way many women do.  It was not until I found this doctor that I stayed with one person for more than a year.


When we first met, Dr. D. was relatively fresh out of medical school and still wet behind the ears (me being the savvy nurse immediately recognized the signs); she struck a cord with me and I have never left.  Now, after a decade of practicing medicine, bearing three children, and maturing as a physician, I have that doctor patient relationship I always saw from the other side of the stethoscope.


I find I actually look forward to going to see her.  I like her as a person, but also, for a brief few minutes everything really is all about me.  No where else in my life is anything all about me.  I don't even mind simple medical procedures (X-Rays and other non painful stuff) because during that interaction with the practitioner, I am the center of attention.  I can almost see how people get into the habit of visiting their doctor for every little ache and pain.  I totally get it now.   It's not that I want fame, fortune or the accompanying narcissism; but as a woman torn in many directions it is nice, for a few short minutes, to be the one on the receiving end instead of the giving one.

We stood at the payment desk as she wrote my prescriptions; I remembered two other things I wanted to tell her.  As I began one story I forgot the other.  I stared blankly at her and sadly asked, "Am I just getting old?"  Her reply was kind and comforting without being patronizing, "No, I just think you have too much on your plate."  I felt like Charlie Brown in "A Charlie Brown Christmas" when Lucy explains pantophobia and he yells, "That's it!"  I wanted to jump up and down and shout, "Yes, I have too much on my plate and there is more coming.  Can someone please help me dig out of this pile of chaos?"  However, I maintained my composure long enough to remember the other thing I wanted to tell her.


All of this tells me two things.  First, I am not old nor crazy I am a woman who is balancing a marriage, a business, a design career, and now will be a full time grandmother.  I make things complicated for myself as I try to do too many things - ultimately not doing any of them to my best ability.  And finally, I am way too young to enter the phase of life where illnesses, pills, and doctor visits are my main source of conversation material.  

So what's a girl to do?  I must find another solution that is less expensive and equally satisfying.  

Pedicure anyone?

The Rush of The Unpredictable

I often dream of a life of serenity and peace.  An idyllic existence filled with days of creativity, laughter, family and friends. 

I can see myself starting the day with a cup of coffee, sitting in a lush garden watching the wildlife moving around, feeling a cool breeze.  From there I would go to my fiber studio to do - well, whatever I was moved to do.  Hmm, what to have for lunch?  Light French type fare: fresh bread, simple meat, cheese, fruit and of course a simple rose' wine.  A walk, time to read, and perhaps visit with good friends in the afternoon.  The evening would find me in the kitchen cooking a meal with items from our garden and retiring to a quiet evening with my husband.

Then, I open my eyes and reality checks back in.  My house has been turned upside down in preparations for a life changing event.  Despite everything I wrote the last time I blogged (most of which was cathartic but not realistic) our daughter and granddaughters are moving back in with us. 

I know, I said this would never happen again.  I say lots of things when hurt, angry or frustrated.  I know Dr. Phil would ask, "What were you thinking?"  I know that the wisdom of the world says that we need to practice tough love because we are enabling our daughter to rely on us rather being independent.  But, all I know is that there are three young children who need a safe, secure and loving home, a young mother of three who has mistakes but in the end wants to be a good mom and provide for her children, and God has given us the ability and the heart to help.  How can we say no?

I know what it is like to be in a relationship that is emotionally hurtful.  I know what it is like to be a child in a home with conflict.  Most of all I know how good it is to be able to provide my grandchildren with a safe and secure place to live.  We simply can't turn our backs on these three precious children.  Nor can we turn our backs on our daughter.  She hasn't had an easy go of life.  She was thrown lots of curve balls from the very beginning of her life.  None of these things are worth discussing but all of life experiences go into making us who we are - good and bad.  I have always believed that it is what we do with these experiences that separate the survivors from those who just fade away into oblivion.

So, while my life may not look like that dream life - but this is my life, and I am grateful to have the chance to help those I love.

Swimming For My Life

I can vividly picture myself sitting on an airplane, making the three hour flight from Houston to Los Angeles to visit my family; I was reading the book "Everything I Know I Learned in Kindergarten."  What a great book.  Where would any of us be without those simple lessons that continue to guide our lives?  Who we are, in large part, is shaped by the time we are five years old, but I am finding that life lessons can be learned at any age.  In fact, if we stop learning and growing, we begin dying, inside and out.


Last week I stepped way out of my comfort zone and landed in a swimming pool.  I took swimming lessons when I was a child but without practice or regular exposure to the water anything I learned was soon forgotten; it was replaced by fear.  I spent the next forty or so years longing to be able to go to water parks, do activities in and around water, and just plain relax and have fun.  The time had come; I donned a bathing suit (does it get any more brave than this?), goggles and stepped over the edge.


A friend is teaching me at her home.  No one to see me flail and gasp; no one to laugh as I struggle to coordinate my arms and legs trying to make them do what I want them to do.  I am learning under the watchful eye of a kind and patient friend who is able to push with just right amount of gentleness.  I feel safe and I also want to make her proud.


The very first thing I learned was "as long as there is air in your lungs you will float."  What an amazing difference that little piece of information made to me.  With air I will float.  Without air I will sink.  I left that first day and pondered the bigger picture of this lesson.

When each one of us is born God breathes life into us.  He is the air that gives us life.  But the physical life is not really what I learned from my floating/sinking experience.  Along with my swimming lesson came a week of painful human emotions.  I was sinking fast - gasping for air and flailing about; I was truly drowning.  But, an amazing thing happened as the week progressed.  I prayed.  I cried.  I prayed while I was crying.  Friends prayed for me and the situation.  Slowly, I felt the life giving air filling me once again.  I was floating in the arms of my God who loves me and ALWAYS carries His children to safety when they cry out for Him. 


My week ended with an exhausting yet fun weekend with my precious grandchildren.  Children embody the hope and promise for the future.  I was filled with God on the inside as I watched life exploding in front of me.  A gift of life from the One who gives life.  

When life is swirling out of control: breathe.   Don't panic, slow down, breathe in through your mouth - out through your nose and be sure to stay filled with the air of life.

Next Lesson:  Don't Be Dainty

The Grip of Fear

All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another.   Anatole France

For me, one of the most painful parts of growing older is realizing that the life I dreamed of is not the life I have.  I am grieving the loss of a dream life that was never really mine to begin with.  I stepped into the middle of a life in progress.  I married a man with one child, a child I had known since birth, and a child I loved, cared for and viewed as my daughter.  The problem was, this feeling was not, and I now realize can never be returned.  It is truly no fault of hers.  She grew up torn between two people who were so wounded that they couldn't see past their own pain.  The death of a child will do that to a couple.  This couple endured the death of two children.  How can that kind of pain ever be repaired?


I viewed myself as the "knight in shining armor."  I could almost hear Mighty Mouse's theme song, "Here I am to save the day!"  Well it didn't take long for that ridiculous fantasy to be shattered by the reality of life.  But I continued loving that girl, trying to walk a tight rope between respecting her mother and wanting - no needing - some kind of valid relationship with her.

Tragically her mother died when she was 16 and none of us have ever been the same.  Her mother was like all the rest of us - she had her good points and her not so good points, truly no better or worse than anyone else; however, whenever someone dies before the world is ready to lose them,  then all the flaws evaporate and the good is magnified.  I would never, not in a million years say anything negative about this woman.  She gave birth to my step daughter and because of that I have 3 beautiful grandchildren.

The last twenty years have been spent living a life responding to the needs of this young woman.  We have turned our marriage and life upside down and backwards out of love, concern, control, and fear.  Fear that all the pain of her short life would lead her to make decisions that have long lasting effects.  We have set her free, but not really.  


We are at a particularly painful crossroad.  I am stepping back and realizing that I have to have the courage to let go - permanently let go - of that dream life in order to move forward.  This pain will not stop until I do.  Those grandchildren are the only children I have known.  The oldest one was born while her mom still lived at home and I was blessed to help raise her.  We have a bond that can never be broken.  Neither time nor distance will tear us apart.  I must trust that truth.  I must have the courage to let go and reclaim my life.


I must die to the life of family holidays, boisterous get togethers, going to school plays, dance recitals, sporting events, and just creating traditions that can be passed down to the next generation.  What could I gain if I let go?


Freedom.  The freedom to continue to grow as an independent person; to live a life as the free spirited artist I see in myself; a life that always has room for those I love yet doesn't depend on them to fulfill me; the freedom to live.


This is possibly the most frightening time in my life.  I am totally out of control of the situation, and yet there is a new control within reach if...
I.....
         just.........
                          let..........
                                           go............

Americans Looking Forward?

A very good friend, and wise woman, taught me that everyone must have something to look forward to.  This little gem has given me a new perspective on life.  Without something to look forward to all we have is the grind of everyday life.


I thought about looking forward as I watched the space shuttle Atlantis land this morning.  After 30 years it still amazes me that something that big can go straight up into space and then come home land like a an airplane.  As a child of the 60's I grew up with the space program and like millions of Americans watched as Apollo 11 landed on the moon.  We held our collective breaths every time one of the ships left the launch pad, cleared the hurdles of the mission and re-entry, coming back to earth in a very small capsule in the ocean.  

With this backdrop I still vividly remember my feelings of excitement and pride in my country as the first space shuttle took flight.  I knew that just as the Apollo 11 mission was the beginning of something amazing, so was this new method of space exploration.  We, as a country, had something to look forward to.  We were united in enthusiasm and pride.


Today, Atlantis landed with nothing to look forward to.  I cried.  I cried not just for the space program that means so much to our country but to the city where I live.  The Johnson Space Center in Clear Lake City is a gem in Houston's crown.  We are space city.  Our sports teams have space themed names and our children tour the space center on field trips.  The name of our city is one of the first words uttered from the moon.  Space, and all that it represents is fundamental to the history and image of Houston, Texas.  I'm proud to live here. 


What do we as Americans have to look forward to?  Everyday when we get up and turn on the news or open a newspaper (do it while you still can) we are bombarded by gloom and doom.  Where or where is that tiny light; that glimmer of hope?


I'm looking.  I know it is out there somewhere.  As we approach the Memorial Day weekend, I pray that this day of remembrance is about more than barbeques, a day off to sleep in, or the race to the best sale.  I pray that each and everyone of us stops to give thanks for our troops - particularly those who died in the line of duty.  Because of them we continue to be a free people.  Say a prayer.  Say thank you to a soldier.  Find ways to support those who put their lives on the line each and every day so that we have the chance to continue to pursue happiness.


In memorium:  
Robert E. Perkins - U.S. Army and John A. Means - U.S.M.C.

Sounds and Smells

I spent the better part of Sunday buying music from iTunes and creating a new playlist.  I'm not sure how much I spent, and no doubt will be surprised when the bill comes in - but, oh well, it's only money.


I was specifically looking for songs that represent my generation, things I listened to when I was a kid as well as a teenager.  I include in this musical queue, the years of latent teenage behavior of my post divorce life in the late 1980's.  Other than holidays and bill paying, I really enjoyed being single.  Oops, off track again.  Back to the music.  I found songs by The Hermann's Hermits, Bread, Three Dog Night, and The Grass Roots, which nicely compliments my existing collection of Eagles and Chicago.  To that I added Cyndi Lauper, Madonna (the early years), Bruce Hornsby (I have eclectic taste), Survivor, and Phil Collins.


Things that I hadn't thought about in years popped into my head as I was choosing the songs.  Often a scene or a face would pass through my consciousness then would be gone just as fast.  Trying to hold on was impossible - kind of like catching snowflakes, there one moment, gone the next.  Some of these glimpses were pleasant, some, not so much.  There were a couple of times that a song elicited a feeling of anxiety or fear but there was no picture to go along with it.  I wonder - what happened at that moment in my life that was so unpleasant that I can't remember it.  Hmmm, makes me curious but not enough to linger here.


The sense of smell has long been recognized as the sense that draws us into another time - another place.  The other day I bought some new makeup.  I bought it for the smell.  Weird, maybe, but this smell and the memory it brings are both good.  


The smell of Cover Girl makeup always makes me think of my friend Kay.  My mom sold Avon and that was the only makeup I was allowed to use.  But Kay and her sister both used Cover Girl foundation.  When I spent the night at her house and borrowed her makeup I felt free to make my own choice.  Kay's family was like a second family for me.  I spent far more time at her house than she did at mine.  I liked her family.  I thought her parents were kind of strict, but I liked it.  It made me feel safe.  At this point in my life my folks were busy and not so strict anymore.  The teenage years are not the time to loosen the reins!  Smelling Cover Girl make up always takes me back to that time.


Moving, marriages, and life got in the way and Kay and I lost touch.  Something that always made me sad.  She is the one friend who connects me to my childhood.  The one person who has known me longer than anyone except my family.  It is hard for me to explain how important that is to me.  I think never having biological children has caused me to feel differently about relationships.  I need to be grounded and children are certainly grounding and humbling.  Kay reminds me where I came from and keeps me rooted in today.  We haven't physically seen each other in about 25 years.  I hope that will change, but even if it doesn't I know that I will always have a friend in her.


More childhood lessons - this time from the Girl Scouts: "Make new friends, but keep the old; one is silver and the other gold."


Find a friend and tell them they are loved - you'll both be happy you did.

Lost and Found

Like millions of people around the world last night I sat through the series finale of Lost.  I never really wanted to watch this show, but on that first night gave into my husband - he does control the remote and I am generally not motivated enough to go into the other room.  One episode; that's all it took.  I haven't missed an episode in the past six years.  Don't quiz me on anything because I probably won't remember details.  My brain simply doesn't retain that kind of trivia.  Heck, my brain rarely retains important stuff.


I tried to follow the Tweets about the finale.  They were hitting so fast it was impossible, but I did notice a couple of interesting trends:
1.  Why do people who hate/have never watched/could care less feel obligated to tell those of us who are fans of the show how they feel?  And, might I add, often in very foul language.  If you aren't a fan - go somewhere else.  
2.  This same philosophy could be applied to many areas of life.  As most of us learned as children, "If you don't have something nice to say, don't say anything at all."  Words do hurt.  Forget the old "sticks and stones" garbage.  Words hurt and they can't be taken back.  Choose them carefully.  


The internet is filled with folks who, because they are anonymous they feel they can say anything to anyone.  My guess is that they wouldn't have the guts to say those things to a person's face.  Play nicely with others.  You will be able to sleep at night and look yourself in the mirror.


I personally loved the fact that not all the questions were answered.  There was much left to the speculation of the viewer and interpretation can be left up to that person, and it will be colored by their personal beliefs and values.


Here is my take - love it or leave it - but remember, play nice.
1.  God is love.  God will never leave our side - it is we who turn our backs on Him. 


2.  There are forces of good and evil at work in the world around us and we can't always see or recognize them.  I believe that the spiritual world is at work for both sides and we have a choice to make.


3.  Every person who crosses our path, no matter how insignificant it seems, is significant.  Treat them as you would like to be treated.  Another lesson from childhood worth remembering.


4.  God cannot be boxed in and just as soon as we think we know it all or have Him figured out, He will surprise us.  


5.  Hanging on for dear life and trying to be in control of life is futile.  We are all here at this time for a reason that is known only to God.  Our task is to live each day in a way that honors Him, and to walk humbly with our fellow man.


6.  We are all flawed, and we all screw up.  


7.  Faith is absolutely vital to life.  Most of us live a life of faith or a life seeking faith.  For me, faith means though I have never seen Him, I live in faith that Jesus Christ lived and is the Son of God who died and was resurrected to save those who believe.  There are others who believe differently.  As far as I am concerned a life without faith is a life that is hopeless and rooted in this world - it will never be any better than it is right now.  When the Lost "survivors" were all hugging in the church I thought about my dad.  I'm going to get to hug him again one day.  I thought about all the relatives that I barely knew and those I didn't know at all; the friends, acquaintances, and those folks who crossed my path during this life.  How amazing is that?


I have lived both the seeking life and the life of faith.  Usually both at the same time.  I have been a regular church goer and a non church goer.  I found flawed humanity at every level of church life.  I have been a "holier than thou" finger pointing Christian - for which I am truly sorry.  I have worried that I might do something wrong and loose my salvation - that rule follower personality caused me much pain.


I am now in a place that is beautiful.  I love God.  He loves me.  I feel His presence daily and I see how He has chosen to work through me every single day.  Do I always get it right?  Heck no!  But I now know that I can't screw up so bad that the fate of the world is at stake (yes, that is how whacked out I used to be).  


And, that, is the message I received from the finale of Lost.  This was truly more than a television show for many of us.  It became a part of life.  Nothing to worship or make more important than it was, simply something entertaining and transforming.  Thanks.