The Confused Feminist

When I was in college in the early 1980's I heard the comedienne Joan Rivers give a monologue explaining why she is a feminist. She said that she is a feminist because she isn't qualified to be a domestic goddess.  Her housekeeping is terrible and her cooking is worse. When she was first married she wrapped her naked body in clear plastic wrap and lay down on the dining room table. When her husband walked through the door she calls to him and said "Dinner is on the table." He walks through the door and stops in surprise. Then he exclaims, "Oh my God! Leftovers again!"

What Joan Rivers was alluding to in her own humorous way is the stigma that most women face when they tell people that they are a feminist.  The word feminist makes many people think of man hating, career driven women; but this perception is all wrong!  I am a feminist. I like men, my house is clean, and I am a decent cook. The reason that I am a feminist is because I believe that no person should be denied an opportunity because of their gender.

Unfortunately, women who believe in equal rights have been fighting this stigma for almost two hundred years.  In 1848 women organized and began to fight for the right to vote. The gained the right to vote in 1920 and the Equal Rights Amendment was drafted in 1923.

The Equal Rights Amendment has never been ratified.  It fell three states short of the 38 needed for ratification by a June 30, 1982 deadline. Although the Equal Rights Amendment has never been ratified, progress  was made once the trajectory of the Equal Rights Movement evolved into the feminist movement.  The catalyst for this change is said to have begun with Betty Friedan's book, The Feminine Mystique, which was published in 1963.

In order to understand why Betty Friedan wrote the book, and why it had such impact, we need to remember that in the 1950's and 1960's women were expected to finish school, marry, and become housewives. Women were socialized to believe that marriage was the ultimate achievement. During this era, women did not have the same freedoms that we enjoy today.
 

• Birth control was illegal until 1965.
• Women could be denied a the right to a checking account, credit card, or loan in their name because of their gender until the Equal Credit Opportunity Act was passed in 1974.
• Women could be fired for getting pregnant.
• They could be denied access to a pub or restaurants without a male escort. 
• In a few states, they were even denied the right to file a police report, even if a child went missing.

 Betty Friedan had a degree in psychology but she was fired when she got pregnant with her second child.  As a stay at home mother she was restless and writing freelance articles for magazines.  She wondered if other women felt the same way and sent out a survey to college educated women.  The results were astonishing.  These women were restless and felt as though they were losing their identity; yet they were not talking to other women about it because they felt that their feelings were unique.  When Betty Friedan wrote the feminine mystique, she wrote about the survey results and  women began talking about these feelings. Suddenly there was a surge of support for the equal Rights movement and the equal rights conversation took on a new flavor.

In the book, Friedan points out that in the 1950s and 1960s the media was portraying women as happy housewives or unhappy career women. She then compared this with media publications in the 1930's and found that in the1930's women were portrayed as happy, independent, and even as heroines.  It was as though women were being socialized into silent acceptance of a subordinate role.

The opposition to the Equal Rights movement was strong, but I feel that by labeling this the Feminist Movement it confused some people into thinking that this is only a woman's issue. This fight started with a feminine voice but it is actually a people's fight for equality.

Wikepedia defines the Equal Rights Amendment as a proposed amendment to the United States Constitution designed to guarantee equal rights for all citizens regardless of sex; it seeks to end the legal distinctions between men and women in terms of divorce, property, employment, and other matters.

What the Equal Rights Amendment actually says is this; Equality of rights under the law shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any state on account of sex.

Those who are opposed to the Equal Rights Amendment have said that if we allow equal rights , we unravel the fabric of our culture.  What I find truly disturbing is that in the year 2017, almost 94 years after he Equal Rights Amendment was drafted, we are still hearing the same ridiculous and antiquated arguments.

In 1973 Marabel Morgan published her best seller The Total Women which said happiness comes from learning to be a domestic goddess. It has a byline of "Let your husband be your master."

In 1993 Pat Robertson spoke at the Republican National Convention and said "Feminism is an anti- socialist political movement that encourages women to leave their husbands, kill their children, bring down capitalism, practice witchcraft, and become lesbians."

In February 2014 Time magazine published an article about the group Women Against Feminism. and those against feminism said that "The feminist movement demeans stay at home mothers and that being a true women means loving to cook and clean for your man."

In February of 2017 interview with the Washington Post, Kelly Ann Conway said she is not a feminist because "she is not anti male and not pro abortion."

Yet, all of these perspectives are wrong.  You can be a feminist and be a stay at home wife and mother. You can be a feminist and be pro life.  You can be a feminist and enjoy being feminine. In fact, you can be a feminist and not even be a woman because the feminist movement is about equality regardless of gender.  This fight began with a female voice but it is not exclusive to women.

Sometimes I wonder if those who are against feminism are actually feminists and simply don't realize it. Maybe they don't hate feminism, they just don't understand it.

Wikepedia defines the Equal Rights Amendment as: a proposed amendment to the United States Constitution designed to guarantee equal rights for all citizens regardless of sex; it seeks to end the legal distinctions between men and women in terms of divorce, property, employment, and other matters.

What the Equal Rights Amendment actually says is this; Equality of rights under the law shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any state on account of sex.

Musings on Faith

  

I know that the act of going to church is not what saves people.  Faith saves people.  Christianity is about faith in Jesus, and Jesus is about love. I have faith, I pray daily, and I try to let my Christianity be reflected in how I live my life. However, I have been operating under the assumption that the way I live my life would be enough.  This was working for me until a few weeks ago when a friend caught me by surprise as  she began talking about the dynamic that religion plays in her life.  As I listened to her talk, I realized that she was mirroring some of my own thoughts about organized religion until she said “I am a good person and that should be enough.”  Before I could stop myself, I began to tell her that it isn't enough. The difference between a good person and a Christian is faith. Christianity is faith combined with the willingness to acknowledge that faith in both word and action.  To be honest, I don’t know which one of us was more shocked to hear me witnessing to someone. 

Shortly after this incident, one of the nicest people I know was asked not to volunteer in church activities because her lifestyle isn’t one that is endorsed by the church.  These judgmental attitudes are exactly why I stopped going to church in the first place.  When I read the negative comments about Christians in the media, I began to muse on those recent conversations and it made question on my own lack of church attendance.

“As a teenager, I began to question the Great Christian Sorting System. My gay friends in high school were kind and funny and loved me, so I suspected that my church had placed them in the wrong category... Injustices in the world needed to be addressed and not ignored. Christians weren't good; people who fought for peace and justice and were good. I had been lied to, and in my anger at being lied to about the containers, I left the church. But it turns out, I hadn't actually escaped the sorting system. I had just changed the labels.”
― Nadia Bolz-Weber, Pastrix: The Cranky, Beautiful Faith of a Sinner & Saint

When I was growing up mom took us to church every single Sunday.  As I matured, I realized that I didn’t agree with her church's theological approach to worship, plus the rigid judgmental attitudes that I witnessed offended me.  Choosing not to attend the church I was raised in did not change my faith in God so I spent a few years exploring other religions until I found one that aligned with my beliefs.  

Religion is like having a preference for a certain type of cola.  Some people like Coke, others like Pepsi, and still others like Mountain Dew.  I prefer Coke and, since my preference doesn’t hurt anyone, I don’t understand why the Pepsi lovers choose to ostracize me or why the Mountain Dew Lovers choose to smile to my face and talk trash about me behind my back.  None of these responses will change my preference. In fact, both responses are just silly. In the end, the subject matter is about carbonated sugar water with a little difference in flavor.

You see, I didn’t forsake God or Jesus, and I would never begrudge someone who worships a different way than I do or even someone chooses not to worship. I learned to be true to my own path.  Until recently I have always had a ‘live and let live’ attitude because I do not believe in forcing my ideology on other people. Now I am wondering if I need to make some adjustments in my way of life.  Have I kept my conversations about faith neutral simply to prevent offending anyone? If that is the case, am I unknowingly denying my faith in doing so?    

A book by Nadia Bolz Weber, a unique Lutheran pastor,  talks about how she found her own flavor of Christianity.  Her common sense sermons and unorthodox persona captured my attention because I too have always been the one in my family making choices that didn’t align with the more rigid way of worship.  I like the underdogs, the rebels, and the outcasts because I have never understood people who choose to follow blindly. Sometimes it seems as if some folks want their religion to define who they are when it is our love of Christ that should be defining us.

“And the Word that had most recently come from the mouth of God was, “This is my beloved in whom I am well pleased.” Identity. It’s always God’s first move. Before we do anything wrong, and before we do anything right, God has named and claimed us as God’s own. But almost immediately, other things try to tell us who we are and to whom we belong: capitalism, the weight-loss industrial complex, our parents, kids at school—they all have a go at telling us who we are. But only God can do that. Everything else is temptation.”
― Nadia Bolz-Weber, Pastrix: The Cranky, Beautiful Faith of a Sinner & Saint

I realize that regardless of whatever facet of society we happen to align ourselves with, the judgmental attitudes are always there.  Perhaps I was just holding Christians to a higher standard and, in doing so, I was forgetting that we are all just flawed humans.  We live in a difficult and complex world these days. Everywhere we look we are told what we should do or say.  It is a ‘damned if you do and damned if you don’t’ world.  Being true to our faith will inevitably offend someone whether we intended it to or not.  Yet if we don’t have faith, faith in God and in ourselves, the possibility exists that we will begin to doubt our own identity and that makes us vulnerable. That vulnerable state is what places us in danger of allowing outside sources to define our identity for us. 

“This desire to learn what the faith is from those who have lived it in the face of being told they are not welcome or worthy is far more than “inclusion.” Actually, inclusion isn’t the right word at all, because it sounds like in our niceness and virtue we are allowing “them” to join “us”—like we are judging another group of people to be worthy of inclusion in a tent that we don’t own.”
― Nadia Bolz-Weber, Pastrix: The Cranky, Beautiful Faith of a Sinner & Saint

The dilemma is this; how does a Christian remain true to their beliefs without offending other people?  The answer is that we can’t, because everyone has an opinion and not all opinions align with ours.   All we can do is be true to our faith and not force our beliefs on others while remaining transparent in our humanity.  We need to stop preaching perfectionism, we need to eliminate the labels, and most of all we need to allow everyone else to be human too.

The bible is full of heroes and saints who were sinners first.  I think that experiencing sin is part of God’s plan for some of us.  How do I describe color to someone who has never seen it or describe a flavor to someone who has never had the sense of taste? God knows that certain people need to experience sin before they can truly understand it.  I think that Christians should be open and share Christianity with those who want to know more, but management of the sinners should be left to God. We are all flawed and no one has the right to judge another person.  

Those jagged edges of humanity is what holds people together.  Shame divides, causing people to hide.   –Nadia Bolz-Weber

Our authenticity, is what pulls us together but expecting perfection from ourselves, or from others, creates a sense of “I am not enough.”  That fear of not being perfect only serves to separate  which creates division, a sense that one isn’t worthy to belong;  but in the eyes of God we are all worthy. All he asks for is faith.  So go to church or don’t go to church? I think it depends on the person. To witness or not to witness?  That again depends on if someone is receptive to hearing what we have to say.  I think we should leave the act of saving souls to God and we just focus on living in a way that reflects love and compassion, which is what Christianity is really about.

..And whoever receives one such child in My name receives Me; but whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in Me to stumble, it would be better for him to have a heavy millstone hung around his neck, and to be drowned in the depth of the sea.

Matthew 18;6

Life is Simple

My positive outlook has recently been challenged.  Although I was able to navigate several years of my life as care giver for a mother with Alzheimer disease, ovarian cancer for my sister, the death of each, and a broken foot I managed to navigate life without losing my positive outlook.  However, I recently received an abnormal mammogram which was followed by an MRI and then a biopsy. The good thing is that I don’t have cancer.  The bad thing is that I do need a double mastectomy. 

My doctors urged me to have the surgery soon so my procedure is now scheduled.  The surgery will be followed by a few days where my arms movement will be limited because I will have drains installed in each breast for at least a week. Once the drains are removed, my activities will still be limited for a week or two, and I just avoid thinking about the scars.

"I am not a product of my circumstances, I am a product of my decisions."

Steven Covey

Shortly after I received the diagnosis, I was driving to work and my thoughts wandered into unfamiliar territory as I began to think “What is the point?  Who would miss me if I just didn’t do the surgery and let nature take its course?  Why do I matter?”  The wave of depression that hit me was both sudden and unfamiliar.  This line of thinking is so uncharacteristic of who I am as a person that it took me a few moments before I realized there was a risk of sinking into a state of reflective defeat.  No Bueno.  I became angry with myself for even entertaining even a moment of that defeatist attitude and immediately decided that I had two choices,  I could surrender or I could look for the positive.  Since I believe  that everything in life happens for a reason, the choice was obvious.

Life is simple but we insist on making it complicated.

Confucius

I began to think of a friend who had breast cancer. Her mastectomy was followed by chemotherapy and the traumatic side effects that went along with the treatment. It occurred to me that I am so much more fortunate than many others with a mass in their breast.  I immediately felt a sense of shame for feeling defeated, even if it was for only a moment, because I don’t have cancer, I am not going to need chemotherapy, and they identified the mass before it either become malignant or invaded  the artery or my heart.

"Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is that quiet voice at the end of the day saying 'I will try again tomorrow.' "

Mary Anne Radmacher

It occurred to me that life is simple but our perspective makes life appear more complicated than it really is.   Thanks to the media, the world today is saturated with messages that try to convince us what our life should be like, what we are all doing wrong, what we should look like, and what we need in order to be happy. These messages that encourage us to seek perfection only serve to shift the focus away from everything in  life that is good.  What I need to remember is that one person's idea of perfect may be another person's idea of a flaw. Who I strive to be needs to be less about what I look like and more about who I am.  A person who loses a limb but still finds a way to run a marathon, or a child battling cancer but is still smiling, may be physically imperfect in the eyes of some people but they are the epitome of perfection in my eyes.  Each time I see a homeless person who demonstrates kindness in spite of their circumstances I am reminded me that the perfect car means nothing to people whose primary concern is about trying to make it through another day.  Once our basic need for survival  is met, the rest is a blessing that can be easy to overlook if our focus is on someone else's definition of perfect.

"Life's challenges are not supposed to paralyze you. They are supposed to help you discover who you are."

Bernice Reagan

When it comes down to a discussion on life or death, I have been reminded that life is about survival, family, friends, and those intangible things that make me happy.  This is how I thrive in spite of adversity.  I emerge from all of this with physical and emotional scars; but those scars are reminders that I am strong enough to endure any challenge and courageous enough to create my own definition of perfect.  Life isn’t complicated.  Life is simple.  It is my perspective that makes life seem complicated by creating expectations which have nothing to do with living a happy life.

"If you concentrate on what you don't have, you will never have enough."

Oprah Winfrey

Re-Discovering The Rhythm

 

A few months ago I started playing piano again.  This has been quite an undertaking because I haven’t played for a couple of decades.  I first started to play at age 8.  Around the age of 15 my mother and I had a difference of opinion regarding the type of music I should play so I refused to continue lessons.  In compromise, my mom stopped insisting that I continue to go further with my piano lessons as long as I continued to play. At the time it felt liberating to be able to focus solely on some of the more trendy music but I regret the decision. Once I left home my priorities changed and playing piano was something I did only if I had time until I eventually stopped making time to play altogether.

“A painter paints pictures on canvas, but a musician paints pictures on silence.”

Leopold Stokowski

A few people assume that I started playing again so I could feel close to my mother.   Playing the piano does bring back memories of mom, but my reason for starting to play again has nothing to do with my mother’s memory. I am doing this only for myself.  Mom taught music, and she was an accomplished pianist, but she was more than just a musician to me.  Playing music just brings me so much pleasure and has always been an outlet for me when life wasn't kind. Now that I am playing again, music helps me reconnect with that essential part of myself that I have been neglecting.  When I was growing up, music was as much a part of our daily ritual as breathing air. I can not begin to describe how much I have missed playing. At times I would consider carving out time for piano again but there was always something else that needed my attention more so my piano was always put off for a later day.  When I needed to become caregiver for my mom I thought about playing again but time was such a precious commodity during those years.  Then I lost both my sister and my mom within months of each other and began to realize that I need to stop taking tomorrow for granted.

“Music can change the world because it can change people.”

Bono

Anyone who has been rendered emotionally or spiritually bankrupt by a devastating loss or traumatic event seeks to find solace in something.  When I am hurting, I tap into my creative spirit by cooking, drawing, or writing as I listen to music.  Although I stopped playing, music has always been present in my life. My regret is that it took a major life event before I would give myself permission to carve out time to engage in something that I love. I think most people put off pursuing their passions  for a variety of reasons.  For some of us time is the enemy; but it is easy to become so busy putting everyone and everything else first that we risk losing a part of ourselves.  Some people never start because they are afraid of failure. Other people  are afraid of imperfection so they give up on their creative endeavors too soon. I think that we need to engage in those pursuits that we are passionate about, and give ourselves permission to be imperfect,  because nurturing our spirit is just as important as nurturing our physical selves. 

“Music was my refuge.  I could crawl into the space between the notes and curl my back to the loneliness.”

Maya Angelou

I tend to be a very social person but these last few months I have chosen to spend more time alone than I usually do.  A few people have expressed their concern about this but I assured them that being alone and being lonely are completely different states of being.  The saying that we are all responsible for our own happiness is true.  Even when circumstances are out of our control, how we respond is a choice. I can choose to sit at home feeling sad or I can stay at home and engage in things that make me happy.  My choice is happiness but after several difficult years I just needed time to discover my own rhythm once again.

As far as piano goes, I am doing much better than I thought I would do but I am not as good as I want to be.  I signed up for classes because I need a refresher on a few things and I want to learn to both play and compose a different style of music.  A group who plays for hospitals and charity events has talked to me about joining them.  I don't think I am ready yet but I asked them to approach me in six months if they still need someone.  Music is a time commitment, and practice is critical, but I make time because music is both a need and a want for me.  It challenges my mind while it makes me feel both happy and content.  I love my mom, I treasure the memories, and I am grateful that she gave me the gift of music but I am doing this for me.

 

“Without music to decorate it, time is just a bunch of boring production deadlines or dates by which bills must be paid.”

Frank Zappa

 

 

 

Focus On The Journey, Not The Destination

 Mother's day was about a week ago and this was the first Mother’s Day that I have not had a Mother to buy a card for. Fortunately, I have wonderful children who did things to make the day extra special but I still felt a little nostalgic. My mom passed away a few months ago and I have kept myself busy, almost too busy, in an effort to insulate myself from the sorrow. However,  In those moments of sorrow and reflection I often found myself thinking of my life when I was growing up. As I mused on this, I realized that my childhood was a simpler time for me, but that was because my parents were the ones who took responsibility for the big things in life.  The life that I have now isn’t any simpler than the life my parents had, it is simply different. One of the biggest differences between myself and my parents is that my parents worked hard but they also made a point of carving out time for the simple pleasures. Yet, as I strive for better, I am not as consistent in making time for  simple things that serve no purpose other than making me happy.

“If you would rather live surrounded by pristine objects than by the traces of happy memories, stay focused on the tangible things. Otherwise, stop fixating on stuff you can touch and start caring about stuff that touches you.”

Martha Beck.

Over-commitment is something I have always struggled with and a couple of months ago I was home enjoying a beautiful spring day when an old memory surfaced. I remembered sitting at my mom’s piano learning a new piece of music as the spring sunshine and the smell of flowers filled the room. This is a memory that hasn’t surfaced for years but I felt a sense of happiness as I remembered the many hours that I spent at the piano playing, composing, and learning. Over the years I stopped making time to play the piano because I had other priorities. From time to time I considered taking up my piano again, however, time was a precious commodity and piano is a daily commitment so I  put if off for another day. On this particular morning, as I stood in front of that open window, I found myself smiling over an old memory and wished with all of my being that I could relive a few of those moments.

My parents understood the value of making time for things that would enrich the spirit. When I was growing up, creativity was encouraged. My mother had a music degree and she taught both Piano and Music theory. Music was such a part of our daily routine that, for the longest time, I didn’t even realize that there are some people who can’t read music. Although Music is still a large part of my life in many ways, I no longer play. On a whim, I went it and sat at my piano to play but my fingers were no longer limber. I made a commitment to practice scales and cadences daily until my scales actually sounded like notes flowing up the keyboard again.  I have made time for piano every day since and I enjoy every moment of it. Playing again is like reconnecting to an old friend. I feel as though I am renewing my bond with Beethoven. It occurred to me that in my quest for the idyllic life I have sacrificed those simple pleasures and, in doing so, I may have cheated myself.

A few days later I was listening to a friend of mine make a similar statement. She asked me, “Why is it that I hesitate to give my self permission to just make time for things that just make me happy?” I thought of  something I read once called “The Station” by Robert J Hastings and I decided that I need to re-evaluate some of my priorities.

…..“But uppermost in our minds is the final destination. At a certain day, on a certain hour, we will pull into the station. Bands will be playing and flags will be waving. Once we get there so many wonderful dreams will come true and the pieces of our lives will fit together like a completed jig saw puzzle. How restlessly we pace the aisles, damning the minutes for loitering………waiting,  waiting, waiting... for the station.

“When we reach the station that will be it!” we cry………when I turn 18, when I finally buy my new Mercedes, when I put my last kid through college, when I payoff my mortgage, when I get a promotion, when I reach retirement age……….then I shall live happily ever after.

Sooner or later we must realize that there is no station, no one place to arrive at once and for all. The true joy of life is the trip. The station is only a dream. It constantly outdistances us. “Relish the moment” is a good motto. It is not the burdens of today that drive men mad. It is the regrets over yesterday and the fear of tomorrow. Regret and fear are twin thieves who rob us of today. “

Quote from “The Station “

By Robert J Hastings.

 I  made a commitment to create time for things that just make me happy. Knowing that I tend to be driven I need to remember a quote by Joel Osteen, "Sometimes our greatest strength is also our greatest weakness." 



This Mother's day my son wanted to take me out for dinner.  I like to cook and have several shelves of old cookbooks and one of the things that makes me happy is trying a new recipe or a different cooking technique. Food brings people together but I realized that, in an effort to save time, we often go out for dinner. I was craving comfort food from home so I suggested that my son come over and we can make dinner.

The dinner was great but the camaraderie was even better. We are both very busy and the time to prepare, cook, and clean up gave us time to catch up. The day reinforced the idea that I need to make time for those simple pleasures which I put off until tomorrow because there is no guarantee of a tomorrow.

We should consider every day lost on which we have not danced at least once.”
― Friedrich Nietzsche

What I find  ironic is that while focusing on  the more tangible aspects of life in order to make the journey more pleasant it is easy to forget to just enjoy the journey. Sometimes we all just need a little reminder.  I know that I do. As I was reflecting on how to rearrange my schedule to make time for these happy moments...I broke my foot.  Limited mobility forced me to slow down but it also helped me realize that there is no excuse not to carve out time for things that just make me happy.  I think that the universe is trying to tell me something and I get the message loud and clear. There is no station waiting for me. Life is  the journey, not the destination.

 

Grief Is A Process, Not A Parking Spot

 

The last six months have difficult.  I watched cancer take my sister and a few weeks later I found myself sitting in Hospice watching my mother fade.  The holiday season was a blur of sorrow, a parade of people, a constant feeling of exhaustion, and too much stress.   Mom passed away shortly after the New Year and I was with her until the end.  Although I thought I was prepared for her passing, when she left us my heart just imploded.  Over the next few days it felt as though I was navigating through a fog of sorrow making funeral arrangements and the ever constant parade of people.   

A few days ago, for the first time in months, I had my first full day alone.  As I poured my morning coffee, I noticed that the cup I was using was one that my mother had given me almost twenty years ago.  Throughout the day I seemed to be more aware of my mother’s influence in my life.  It was a comforting feeling to know that mom had left an imprint on my life that will never fade.  I still feel sad but I am wise enough to understand that sorrow is normal at a time like this because grief is a process, but grief should not be a parking spot.

 

 As I mused on how to navigate this difficult time, I reflected back on the last few months and realized that so many things went wrong; but just as many things went right. There had been tension between my mother and I, but when I received that call that she needed me I wouldn’t think of hesitating.   I was unprepared and had to learn about both Alzheimer disease and caregiving on the fly. There were times when I felt completely overwhelmed but the upside is that I had more than two years to reconnect with my mother.  Mom was surrounded by people who cared about her in her last days and she had a chance to see everyone before she passed away.  She even made it through one last Christmas, although I am not completely certain that she was even aware of the holidays this year.  I had the right people near me at the right time.  Even the things that didn’t go according to plan seemed to set a chain of events in motion which led me to something that I needed more. 

“Life is lumpy.  A lump in your oatmeal, a lump in your throat, and a lump in your breast are not the same lump. One should learn the difference.” Robert Fulghum

This last two and a half years, as I watched as my mom battle Alzheimer Disease, it felt as though she was fading right in front of my eyes one memory at a time. The demands on my time and my emotions were enormous so I began to put distance between myself and the consistent whiners. I am not demeaning anyone’s personal challenges but I heard a motivational speaker say once that “A lump in your oatmeal is an inconvenience and a lump in your breast is a problem.  Unfortunately, there are folks who react to both lumps the same way.” There was a time when I would patiently allow someone to waste my time complaining about the lumps in their oatmeal just as vehemently as they complained about their real problems.  The last two years has taught me that time is valuable so I should not waste it listening to people who complain endlessly yet have a myriad of excuses for not improving their situation.  Time was a precious commodity so I had to put distance between myself and a few acquaintances but these last few years also reinforced a few other friendships and even made them stronger.

 

“There comes a time in your life when you walk away from all of the drama and the people who create it.  You surround yourself with people who make you laugh. Forget the bad and focus on the good. Love the people who treat you right and pray for those who don’t.  Life is too short to be anything but happy. Falling down is a part of life, getting back up is living.” 

Jose N. Narris Mi Vida

 

One of the people I don’t make time to talk with often called me a mere hours after my mother’s memorial. I was out with family and it took less than a minute to realize that the purpose of the call wasn’t consolation or concern. I felt as though she saw my loss as an opportunity for shared drama so she could begin a tirade of complaints about a “lump in the oatmeal problem.”   The timing of her call was less than ideal but that call also helped me realize that the best way to navigate through my pain was to focus on the memories that would keep me smiling.  After making a gentle exit from the conversation I returned to the table with a resolve to change the spirit of the moment.  I looked around at my family and asked, “Did mom ever share the story about the first time she changed a flat tire?” Most of them shook their head so I told a story that my mother told me when I was learning to change a tire in my Driver’s Education class.

 

“Every person passing through this life will unknowingly leave something and take something away.  Most of this ‘something’ cannot be seen or heard or numbered or scientifically detected or counted.  It is what we leave in the minds of other people and what they leave in ours.  Memory.  The census doesn’t count. Nothing counts without it.”

Robert Fulghum,

All I Really Need to know I Learned in Kindergarten.

 

When I was younger we lived in a remote area, and the trip to our place was down a remote country road.  My dad made certain mom knew a few car basics (such as changing a flat tire) in the event that she ever broke down on the road home.  He even had her practice changing a tire until he felt comfortable that she could manage on her own.  A few months later mom was on her way home when she had a flat tire on a remote part of the road. I remember mom telling me that she was grateful she could change the tire herself so she “got out of the car and just got to work.”  As she was finishing the task, someone came by and stopped to offer assistance.  My mom told him “No thank you.  I just finished changing the tire so I should be all set!”  The man looked a little confused as he examined what she had done. Finally he said nodded and said, “Yes, and you did a fine job.  Perhaps I can help you change the flat tire.”  Mom looked at the car and to her dismay she realized that she had been so intent on changing the tire herself that she changed the one she had practiced on instead of the one that was flat! My mother said she and my dad would laugh over that story every time there was a tire issue with one of the cars.   

 

This story prompted others to share their stories of my mom’s adventures and it wasn’t long until we were smiling in fond remembrance of my petite little mother who was feisty, intelligent, loved to laugh, loved animals, loved to garden, loved anything that was artistic, was an accomplished musician, and would strive to teach her students a genuine love of music.  My mom was independent, outspoken to a fault, impetuous, compassionate, kind, and artistic. She could be just as stubborn and headstrong as she was kind and compassionate which meant that she could be frustrating at times.  Yet, what I admired most about her was the fact that she was genuine.  She wasn’t afraid to take a risk, speak her mind (even if it made her unpopular) and she would be the first to laugh at herself when she made a mistake.  .

“Remember tonight for it is the beginning of always.”

Dante

 

I think grief is a byproduct of love because we only grieve losing what we care about.  While grief is about mourning what was lost, living is the fine art of balancing what was, what is, and what will be.  I want to cherish my memories of yesterday while I work on living to the fullest today so I can create a set of happy memories that my family will smile about, and hopefully cherish, someday when I am gone.  

Thank you to my mother who taught me to always be myself, the love of music, art, nature, not be afraid to take a risk, and to value living life to it's fullest. 

Rest In Peace Mom. You are in my heart always.

 

Happy New Year

The year 2014 has been filled with many life changing events and a healthy variety of emotion charged moments. This year I have experienced painful events, expensive events, fun events, and meaningful events.  As I looked back over the last twelve months I realized that very few things went as planned but the most important things were  experienced to their fullest.

As the holidays approached this year, I was under a tremendous amount of stress. A few weeks after my sister passed, my mother had a series of strokes. She is failing so Hospice is helping us keep her comfortable. In addition to the time and attention needed required for my mother,  it is the time of year that requires long hours at work.  As a firm believer in Murphy's Law, when my washing machine failed and then dog my dog required surgery I began to hope that Murphy would stop working overtime in my life and place his focus elsewhere. 

I didn't find time to decorate the house and shop for food until two days before Christmas. My Christmas cards were mailed on December 24th and I finished wrapping presents only a few hours before everyone was due to arrive for Christmas Eve dinner.  My daughter's plane was arriving home on Christmas day so I had planned a small Christmas dinner for our little family.  The timing for a meal at home didn't work out so we ended up at a restaurant eating Mexican food.  Mexican Food is always good and, since I was sleep deprived, this worked out well for me too.

The day after Christmas we had plans to go shopping and my sister was to join us.  On December 26, just before I was ready to hop in the shower, I tried to clear some of the remnants of the prior day's chaos and sent a text to my sister asking what time she would arrive at my house.  Her reply was "We are an hour away."  I almost hyperventilated at her response so I asked her, "Who is we?"  Thirty minutes later I tried to answer the door but my door handle jammed so I opened the garage and greeted an entourage of people as I stood there speechless, fresh from the shower, with my wet hair and bathrobe. My sister took one look at my face and said, "I guess I shouldn't have surprised you."   In spite of an interesting start to the day we had a wonderful time shopping together.  While shopping with my daughter and my sister's family,  I bumped into a dear friend which made the day just that much more special.  

That evening I remembered that I forgot to pick up a gift for my grandson's birthday party the next day so I made a quick trip to Target before they closed.   While wrapping the gift it occurred to me that as I was trying to meet the expectations of the holiday I really didn't make adequate time for all of the people who mean the most to me. Every year I promise myself that I will not let the season overwhelm me and every year I find myself overwhelmed..  Many of the things that require my attention are unavoidable but this entire month was too chaotic.  I  began to think about what I should have done/could have done differently. Perhaps I could have sacrificed the home cooked meals or asked for more time off but, in the end, I would not have changed a thing. The time with my family was precious and with each disaster there was a silver lining. When my dog got sick, I discovered that both my Vet and one of her assistants both have parents with Alzheimer Disease.  We decided to get together regularly for to support each other.  As I was selecting my new washing machine, the lady helping me said that this is the first Christmas without her mother.  As she began to talk I discovered that she had  recently lost her mother after experiencing the same thing that I am going through now.  I shared my story with her and we stood talking for a very long time.  She hugged me as I was leaving and I walked out of the appliance store I was feeling just a little better. 

This year I discovered that some folks claim to care but in times of crisis they are nowhere to be found and then other people think that just showing up, expecting to be entertained while gracing me with their presence, is enough. Someone told me once that true friends are defined in times of adversity. A true friend is someone who goes out of their way, offering to carve time from their own busy schedule to actually help. I have not accepted any of the offers to help yet but their thoughtfulness means more than words can convey. Just knowing there are people who care enough to actually show up and be there makes me feel just a little less alone.

Although this was a difficult year, it had it's highlights which gives me hope for 2015.  My dog is going to be alright, my new washing machine will be delivered in two days, I made some new friends, discovered how special other friends are, was able to finish everything in time for Christmas, spent time with family,  I was able to share Christmas with my mother (even if it was beside a hospital bed), and I have a shiny new door handle on my front door.  So, as I bid goodbye to this difficult year I enter into the year 2015 with no resolutions or expectations.  All I want is to be is the best version of myself and remember how important it is to actually show up and demonstrate the same levels of  friendship and kindness to others that I have received throughout 2014. 

Happy New Year.