I went to the funeral of a family friend. He had died suddenly. One day he was fine...the next day he died. He and his wife have seven amazing children. They owned a restaurant in a coastal town for decades. He was artistic, loving, and an amazing chef. He and his wife had shared marriage and children for over forty years.
His funeral was beautiful. His children sang, quoted their dad's lovely poetry, and made me feel as though I had known this remarkable man all of my life. They made the experience more about the celebration of his life and less about the loss of his life.
Tenderness in the experience reminded me of another Celebration of Life. This one was for my husband. He died seven and a half years ago. Both men were larger than life, physically, emotionally, and in talent. I think they would be great friends.
I cried, and I felt their pain, and my own pain. Yet it was also profoundly sacred, a reminder of the purpose of life. I a year out from breast cancer. They found a small amount of cancer in a lymph node. This means that I could have cancer cells in my body. Conversely, the cancer may be gone. How do you live with the possibility that you may still have cancer lurking about in your body?
Life is very fragile, completely uncertain. We don't know what tomorrow is going to bring. Going to a funeral, battling breast cancer, both situations have reminded me what matters, and what doesn't. My faith, my family, and my friends, they are all very important to me. I'm grateful everyday (even in the hardest days) for the gift of people to love. Loving somebody is even better than being loved. Loving gives you a sense of purpose, a fulfillment that can only come from being wanted.
We drove from the funeral to a lovely town where I lived for a very short time. There running down the middle of the road was a small black lab. It was a busy corner. We were fearful that the doggy would get hit by a car. My daughter pulled the car over and went to coax the dog out of the street. I warned her to be aware that it might bite her.
The dog had a weathered old collar without any identifying tags. I walked door to door asking if anyone knew who this dog belonged to. I visited with a marvelous lady. She was a nurse, now she volunteers at the animal shelter.
We coaxed the sweet old dog into our backseat where it promptly went to sleep. It was so sweet natured. It amazed me that this dear old creature radiated such love and goodness. We were concerned that the doggie belonged to someone who probably was looking for them. That informed our decision to leave the doggie at the local animal shelter.
We called the animal shelter and learned that it is a no kill shelter. We finally were able to connect with the police who put our dog friend in a kennel at the shelter. There were multiple large dogs, each in their own cell. It broke our heart to lead this sweet creature into a potentially stressful situation. We shed many tears. Then we prayed and felt at peace. Comfort came to me with the reminder that God has created all of us, and even watches over a sparrow. I'm certain that he will watch over this sweet old doggy. Maybe that's why he had us arrive at that corner at that moment, to save a sweet dog?
We ended the night by going to a beach bonfire. This is one of the most magical situations in life to me. Sitting on the sand, chatting with friends, watching the stars peek out of a black velvet sky, it brought peace to my heart. Changes happen including separations from loved ones as we age. It is the connection to each other, and old doggies that makes this life worthwhile.
UPDATE:
The precious small black lab that we found on Saturday is now home with its owners. I ADORE a happy ending!
Life is not about waiting for the storm to pass....it's about learning to dance in the rain!
Monday, August 5, 2019
Tuesday, May 14, 2019
The Perfect Mother?
For far too long I felt like I was the worst mother. Too often I compared myself to other mothers aro
und me. It seemed as though other mothers always were well groomed, smiling, and perfectly organized. I felt as thought we leap frogged from one crisis to the next.
Our youngest would get frustrated with transition. When she was home and would get upset she would yell, "I want to go back to Daycare!" I had to work outside our home. There were multiple reasons why that was necessary. Her teachers all told me what a perfect little angel this child was. It seemed as though she waited until coming home to be less than an angel.
Other mothers managed to cook delicious, nutritious meals that their family all ate with delight. I remember a time when I had finished cooking four different meals for the four in our family. One was diabetic, one was lactose intolerant, and one was just plain intolerant. As my limit of patience was reached and then surpassed I said stridently, "There is the bread, there is the peanut butter, there is the jam. If you don't like what I prepared, help yourself."
My parents both lived through the great American Depression, and World War II. Food was precious and never to be wasted in our home.I grew up with the clean plate policy. You ate the food that was placed in front of you...period. I once sat at the table for three hours. Mom had made salmon loaf. It is akin to meatloaf only made with canned salmon. I have always been highly sensitive to texture in food. In the can of salmon they included little bones that you could crunch right down. Mama used the bones to provide us with calcium. I'm certain that it was a great idea in theory. I didn't mind the taste of the loaf. Then one of those little bones would be in my mouth and I would gag. After three long hours Papa gave up on making me eat dinner.
My hubby grew up with similar rules towards eating. He loved eating adventurously. The only thing he couldn't tolerate was when parents would eat food off their children's plates. For whatever reason that was one step too far for him.
We determined that we would not force our children to clean their plates. We did insist that they had to try one bite. There were times when the picky eater would try and bite and actually say, "That wasn't so bad, may I have more?" The other thing that I learned is that if I repeated foods that weren't appreciated initially, down the road the food would seem more familiar.
These are just small examples of my experiences as a Mama. I wasted a lot of years trying to be the perfect mommy. It took me far too long to understand that THERE IS NO SUCH CREATURE! We are all imperfect, flawed, AND IT'S OK! In fact, our children learn, not only from our strengths, but from our weaknesses.
I am not always impeccably groomed, my living space is often messy, and I often eat frozen meals. On the plus side, I love to sew, knit, dance, sing, walk, write, and read. My number one strength as a Mama, our children know with no doubts that I will always love them! I might not love a choice that they make, but there is nothing that they can do that will make me quit loving them!
If you are feeling overwhelmed today by the constant demands of parenting stop. Review any tender moments, a small hand in yours, a loving, "I love you mommy," watching your child learn how to smile, giggle, walk, dance, do math, sing, perform in sports, or further achievements. If it seems hopeless today that they will ever grow into decent human beings ask your parents about yourself as a child. Were you always neat, loving, patient, and obedient? No? There is hope that your children will manage to become loving human beings.
It has taken me 33 years but I no longer compare myself to other moms. In fact, I gain strength listening to other moms. If you feel like the world's worst mother, pat yourself on the back and say out loud, "I am doing fine. Motherhood is NOT about perfection. It IS about loving.
und me. It seemed as though other mothers always were well groomed, smiling, and perfectly organized. I felt as thought we leap frogged from one crisis to the next.
Our youngest would get frustrated with transition. When she was home and would get upset she would yell, "I want to go back to Daycare!" I had to work outside our home. There were multiple reasons why that was necessary. Her teachers all told me what a perfect little angel this child was. It seemed as though she waited until coming home to be less than an angel.
Other mothers managed to cook delicious, nutritious meals that their family all ate with delight. I remember a time when I had finished cooking four different meals for the four in our family. One was diabetic, one was lactose intolerant, and one was just plain intolerant. As my limit of patience was reached and then surpassed I said stridently, "There is the bread, there is the peanut butter, there is the jam. If you don't like what I prepared, help yourself."
My parents both lived through the great American Depression, and World War II. Food was precious and never to be wasted in our home.I grew up with the clean plate policy. You ate the food that was placed in front of you...period. I once sat at the table for three hours. Mom had made salmon loaf. It is akin to meatloaf only made with canned salmon. I have always been highly sensitive to texture in food. In the can of salmon they included little bones that you could crunch right down. Mama used the bones to provide us with calcium. I'm certain that it was a great idea in theory. I didn't mind the taste of the loaf. Then one of those little bones would be in my mouth and I would gag. After three long hours Papa gave up on making me eat dinner.
My hubby grew up with similar rules towards eating. He loved eating adventurously. The only thing he couldn't tolerate was when parents would eat food off their children's plates. For whatever reason that was one step too far for him.
We determined that we would not force our children to clean their plates. We did insist that they had to try one bite. There were times when the picky eater would try and bite and actually say, "That wasn't so bad, may I have more?" The other thing that I learned is that if I repeated foods that weren't appreciated initially, down the road the food would seem more familiar.
These are just small examples of my experiences as a Mama. I wasted a lot of years trying to be the perfect mommy. It took me far too long to understand that THERE IS NO SUCH CREATURE! We are all imperfect, flawed, AND IT'S OK! In fact, our children learn, not only from our strengths, but from our weaknesses.
I am not always impeccably groomed, my living space is often messy, and I often eat frozen meals. On the plus side, I love to sew, knit, dance, sing, walk, write, and read. My number one strength as a Mama, our children know with no doubts that I will always love them! I might not love a choice that they make, but there is nothing that they can do that will make me quit loving them!
If you are feeling overwhelmed today by the constant demands of parenting stop. Review any tender moments, a small hand in yours, a loving, "I love you mommy," watching your child learn how to smile, giggle, walk, dance, do math, sing, perform in sports, or further achievements. If it seems hopeless today that they will ever grow into decent human beings ask your parents about yourself as a child. Were you always neat, loving, patient, and obedient? No? There is hope that your children will manage to become loving human beings.
It has taken me 33 years but I no longer compare myself to other moms. In fact, I gain strength listening to other moms. If you feel like the world's worst mother, pat yourself on the back and say out loud, "I am doing fine. Motherhood is NOT about perfection. It IS about loving.
Monday, April 22, 2019
Talk or Listen
I have not posted in this blog for quite awhile. I have been battling breast cancer for the 2nd time. When I'm really struggling with my health it triggers me BIG TIME. Triggers me back to my childhood and teen years as a medically fragile child. I had allergies to life...pretty much literally. I had very little in the way of an immune system. I was in and out of the hospital in oxygen tents on a frequent basis.
I have an actual memory of being a very small child in an oxygen tent with a doctor, and a group of nurses and residents around him. He was whispering. I remember listening harder to hear why he was whispering? Paraphrasing his words he said, She will not live very long. She's too allergic and sensitive. In addition she has very little immune system to fight with.
I remember lying there thinking, "I'll show you! Just because you're a doctor, it doesn't mean you know everything!" It probably was a good thing for me to hear him because it helped me to fight harder.
Now that I've lived another sixty years or so I do know that doctors do not know everything. They are helpful human beings that I'm grateful for, but they CAN'T know everything. Millions of things are going on in your body right now. Most of the things occurring we do not even consider...unless they quit working.
For example, do you pay attention to every single breath in and out? I doubt it, unless you are asthmatic, chronic bronchitis, or another type of respiratory disease. The point is, breathing is quite automatic. Our body will go to extraordinary lengths to ensure that we breathe. (Have you ever slept next to someone who snores)? If our nose becomes congested at night, our body will naturally go for the next option, our mouth. This may not be a premiere option...did I mention that snoring thing? Yet it keeps you alive.
How about the beats of your heart. Mine has beat many, many times as I have written this post. I did not stop and count every beat. I rather prefer to ignore my heart UNLESS it starts going haywire.
Those are just two small processes amidst all of those other 999, 998 other functions that I mentioned.
When I am triggered into my medically fragile childhood I tend to withdraw from humanity. I'm a positive person, but when I'm very ill, I don't feel very positive. Go figure...right? (Sarcasm implied). This time around I'm re-learning an old lesson. People do not want to listen to me, as much as they want to be heard. I'm going to repeat that, "People do not want to listen to me, as much as they want (NEED) to be heard.
\
Instead of feeling like I have nothing to offer, or that I'm just a parasite on my social circles, I have time to listen, and actively care. Maybe some of the experiences I've had can help them. Maybe they genuinely care and feel a bit hurt that I haven't included them in whats going on. I would be hurt if my besties did not tell me when they're going through really hard stuff!
Maybe the things that I have to say are rather negative sometimes. I have also learned, "It's OK not to be OK ALL OF THE TIME!" My sister said, "Even a pressure cooker needs to vent sometimes!"
I'm here...I want to listen. Thanks for the many, many that helped support me in cancer #1 and again in this round with cancer #2. Also thanks to the new friends who have shown up and cared. You are deeply precious to my soul. I will treasure your friendship forever.
I have an actual memory of being a very small child in an oxygen tent with a doctor, and a group of nurses and residents around him. He was whispering. I remember listening harder to hear why he was whispering? Paraphrasing his words he said, She will not live very long. She's too allergic and sensitive. In addition she has very little immune system to fight with.
I remember lying there thinking, "I'll show you! Just because you're a doctor, it doesn't mean you know everything!" It probably was a good thing for me to hear him because it helped me to fight harder.
Now that I've lived another sixty years or so I do know that doctors do not know everything. They are helpful human beings that I'm grateful for, but they CAN'T know everything. Millions of things are going on in your body right now. Most of the things occurring we do not even consider...unless they quit working.
For example, do you pay attention to every single breath in and out? I doubt it, unless you are asthmatic, chronic bronchitis, or another type of respiratory disease. The point is, breathing is quite automatic. Our body will go to extraordinary lengths to ensure that we breathe. (Have you ever slept next to someone who snores)? If our nose becomes congested at night, our body will naturally go for the next option, our mouth. This may not be a premiere option...did I mention that snoring thing? Yet it keeps you alive.
How about the beats of your heart. Mine has beat many, many times as I have written this post. I did not stop and count every beat. I rather prefer to ignore my heart UNLESS it starts going haywire.
Those are just two small processes amidst all of those other 999, 998 other functions that I mentioned.
When I am triggered into my medically fragile childhood I tend to withdraw from humanity. I'm a positive person, but when I'm very ill, I don't feel very positive. Go figure...right? (Sarcasm implied). This time around I'm re-learning an old lesson. People do not want to listen to me, as much as they want to be heard. I'm going to repeat that, "People do not want to listen to me, as much as they want (NEED) to be heard.
\
Instead of feeling like I have nothing to offer, or that I'm just a parasite on my social circles, I have time to listen, and actively care. Maybe some of the experiences I've had can help them. Maybe they genuinely care and feel a bit hurt that I haven't included them in whats going on. I would be hurt if my besties did not tell me when they're going through really hard stuff!
Maybe the things that I have to say are rather negative sometimes. I have also learned, "It's OK not to be OK ALL OF THE TIME!" My sister said, "Even a pressure cooker needs to vent sometimes!"
I'm here...I want to listen. Thanks for the many, many that helped support me in cancer #1 and again in this round with cancer #2. Also thanks to the new friends who have shown up and cared. You are deeply precious to my soul. I will treasure your friendship forever.
Wednesday, January 16, 2019
A Two Subject Blog
TOPIC ONE
I often walk my two adorable grand dogs. They are both chihuahua blends...aka mutts. They have larger than life personalities. One is a beautiful reddish brown, and the other is a long hair with white fur.
As we stroll I constantly find reminders that humanity has walked the path before me. Not pleasant reminders. It is crazy to me in this age of enlightenment how many candy wrappers, pop cans, plastic containers of all types, etc. etc.I find. I often wonder if those that left their trash behind had a good mom that taught them to pick up after themselves.
I had a terrific mom. On the other hand, you did not want to leave things just lying about in our house. A place for everything and everything in its place was a motto that I often heard. Our home was humble but it was tidy. We did not leave things lying about!
Mom took her responsibility as a world citizen very seriously. She composted, long before such a thing was popular. She shopped mostly at thrift stores. Sometimes she would repurpose or recycle clothing into other items. When curbside recycling came along my mom was delighted. It made her so happy to know that things would get a second life.
TOPIC TWO
I pick up trash as I walk about with our darling doggies. The trash that is the most common? Cigarette butts. This baffles me. We KNOW that cigarette smoking is incredibly toxic to the human body. Breathing is a rather important function of our bodies. Why would we take any risks of making that difficult?
I was born with severe allergy asthma. There was only one treatment for asthma, give oxygen and hope that the attack will resolve. I have lived for six decades very much aware of how important breathing is. Sometimes each respiration hurts. I am grateful that I no longer am surrounded by cigarette smoke in almost every public place.
My dear papa died from metastatic cancer. He did NOT smoke. Not one cigarette in his life. On the other hand he worked for 25 years surrounded by chain smokers. His type of cancer has now been linked to second hand smoke. If you don't care about your own health, what about the health of your family, friends, and co-workers? Second hand smoke contributes significantly to respiratory issues, ear infections, sinus infections, and other health concerns of children of smokers.
Why would anyone think that it was ok to smoke a cigarette, and then drop it on the ground, stamp it out, and leave it where it dropped? Animals, small children, and the very ground under our feet can be harmed if this mess is left behind. If you must stamp it out, pick up the remainder. Put it in a trash can. It is NOT compost material, it IS trash.
There is a happy resolution to this diatribe. We can all improve. Pick up after yourself! If you smoke, put your cigarette butt in the trash after stamping it out. Don't drop your trash out your car window, or along your walking path. Remember that we are all on this planet together. Let's keep it safe and lovely for ourselves, our family, and our friends.
I often walk my two adorable grand dogs. They are both chihuahua blends...aka mutts. They have larger than life personalities. One is a beautiful reddish brown, and the other is a long hair with white fur.
As we stroll I constantly find reminders that humanity has walked the path before me. Not pleasant reminders. It is crazy to me in this age of enlightenment how many candy wrappers, pop cans, plastic containers of all types, etc. etc.I find. I often wonder if those that left their trash behind had a good mom that taught them to pick up after themselves.
I had a terrific mom. On the other hand, you did not want to leave things just lying about in our house. A place for everything and everything in its place was a motto that I often heard. Our home was humble but it was tidy. We did not leave things lying about!
Mom took her responsibility as a world citizen very seriously. She composted, long before such a thing was popular. She shopped mostly at thrift stores. Sometimes she would repurpose or recycle clothing into other items. When curbside recycling came along my mom was delighted. It made her so happy to know that things would get a second life.
TOPIC TWO
I pick up trash as I walk about with our darling doggies. The trash that is the most common? Cigarette butts. This baffles me. We KNOW that cigarette smoking is incredibly toxic to the human body. Breathing is a rather important function of our bodies. Why would we take any risks of making that difficult?
I was born with severe allergy asthma. There was only one treatment for asthma, give oxygen and hope that the attack will resolve. I have lived for six decades very much aware of how important breathing is. Sometimes each respiration hurts. I am grateful that I no longer am surrounded by cigarette smoke in almost every public place.
My dear papa died from metastatic cancer. He did NOT smoke. Not one cigarette in his life. On the other hand he worked for 25 years surrounded by chain smokers. His type of cancer has now been linked to second hand smoke. If you don't care about your own health, what about the health of your family, friends, and co-workers? Second hand smoke contributes significantly to respiratory issues, ear infections, sinus infections, and other health concerns of children of smokers.
Why would anyone think that it was ok to smoke a cigarette, and then drop it on the ground, stamp it out, and leave it where it dropped? Animals, small children, and the very ground under our feet can be harmed if this mess is left behind. If you must stamp it out, pick up the remainder. Put it in a trash can. It is NOT compost material, it IS trash.
There is a happy resolution to this diatribe. We can all improve. Pick up after yourself! If you smoke, put your cigarette butt in the trash after stamping it out. Don't drop your trash out your car window, or along your walking path. Remember that we are all on this planet together. Let's keep it safe and lovely for ourselves, our family, and our friends.
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