Finding What You're Looking For...

Sometimes, as I read posts on social networking sites, I just want to scream.  People ranting about everything that is wrong in this world.  People who know what they want to know and nothing else.  Yes, I could scream, but that’s not what I do….I stop reading them instead.  I read things I totally disagree with, yet I am not willing to comment.  Why?  That’s where those people are looking, and they don’t want to change..

We find what we are looking for….

In the past, I was somewhat of a Negative Nellie.  I would have a performance evaluation at work and, typically, I would forget the 99 good things and focus on the 1 thing that needed “improvement.”  I didn’t need a manager to tell me what was wrong with me, I already knew.  And so, I was nearly crushed under the weight of the negative comment.

Not such a great way to live, believe me.  It’s okay to be sensitive and caring, but having such thin skin was quite detrimental to my everyday existence.  I was constantly criticizing myself for my mistakes, or my failures, or my inadequacies.  And I usually found some way to improve the source of the negative comment.

And then something happened…

To say “I got older” is too simplistic.  As I grew older, I began to be kinder to myself and more lenient with my mistakes.  Why?  Perhaps because I was starting to realize that, good or bad, I am who I am.  As the positivity started infecting me, I began to be more forgiving and more tolerant of myself.

I changed what I was looking for…

Taking five minutes each day to look around and find the positives started changing my life….and me.  The glass started being half instead of half empty.  The sky was bluer.  The birds now sing louder.  My prayers are full of gratitude instead of supplications.  I woke up and realized that I am in a really good place now.

I can’t take full credit for my change of philosophy.  I owe a huge debt to the wonderful man who came into my life.  No, he didn’t make me happier, I did.  I firmly believe that we are each responsible for our own happiness…

All he did was love me.  Just the way I am flaws and all.  And I started to like myself better, too.  Yes, I do love him, but I also love me when I am around him.  He helped me see myself as he sees me, instead of in the negative light that I was used to…

I know that there is a war raging in many parts of the world.  I know that children go to bed hungry.  Innocent people are murdered.  Or robbed.  Or enslaved.  Famine, drought, hunger, poverty, political machinations, slavery, dishonesty….it’s all around us.

 

And so are miracles.  And random acts of kindness.  And people who are willing to go out of their way to help others.  People making a difference.  Just as I try to make a difference in some small, meaningful way. 

That’s what I find when I go looking…

Remember Me...

Today is a difficult day for many of us.  It is hard to be devoid of expectations on a day filled with commercial hype…. 

For those of us who have lost our own mother, it is a sad day, too.  And if, like me, you had a difficult relationship with your mother, it can be even harder.  Sometimes, I just wish I could show her that I have “turned out all right” and that I am not a failure… Other times, I feel guilty for thinking how much better off I am without her guilt trips.

As for my own children, I don’t harbor much in the way of expectations.  I am lucky enough to know that they love me, and that’s enough.  I can’t deny that I would love the special brunch, or dinner, or a barbeque in my honor, but it isn’t really necessary.

I look back on the years when my children were young, and I see things I did, or didn’t do, that I would like to change. Of course, that’s not possible.  I have to remind myself that I did the best I could at the time and that I did better than my own mother did for me. 

That’s what it’s about really: doing things better than the last generation.  Doing or undoing things that we remember from childhood.  There are many things from my childhood that I didn’t do to my children and I am grateful for that.  It means that lessons were learned, albeit the hard way.  I am also sure that my mother did better than her strict, Germanic mother did.  It’s a progression, a journey, toward perfection as a mother….

My mother has been gone for thirty-two years, nearly half my life.  I have reviewed and relived many things from the past in my mind, second-guessing her motives and chastising myself for not being different, or “better” than I was….

But it all comes to naught.  The past is the past.  The future isn’t here yet, and today is all we have.  So today, I am grateful to have three beautiful children who have grown into loving, responsible adults.  I am glad that I taught them to be independent and that they mastered it. 

  

I guess what I’m trying to say is that I love my children and I know they love me.  I don’t need anything special on Mother’s Day, just what I hope they do every day: remember me.

And to my children: please know how much you mean to me and how proud I am of you.  I pray for you every day and think about you always.  I see you in your own children and I delight in the memories they evoke for me.  I know you love me and that you appreciate what I did for you, and you are most welcome!

Just please, remember me….

Birthday...

Forty-eight years ago today, I became a mother. I didn't care whether I had a boy or a girl as long as the baby was healthy. God, in His Infinite Wisdom, gave me a little girl and I named her Jennifer. She was so cute and cuddly and smiled so easily. If I was overwhelmed by motherhood, she calmed my fears. The person in my life that she most reminds me of is my Other Mother, Jean Harriet Bryant. Although Jean is gone, Jennifer embodies her spirit of gentle kindness and concern for others. She has grown into a magnificent woman with features chiseled by her experiences and a heart untouched by the evil in the world. She is my first child, my only daughter, and the light of my life. 
Happy Birthday, Little Girl!!

Scatter-brained….

There was a time when I would have used that term to describe myself, but not now.  It’s still true: I am “scattered” these days.  But I made a promise to myself that I would try to be as nice to me as I try to be to others.

So, no more name-calling, even just “in my head.”  I am not “stupid” or a “moron” or “lazy” or any of the other descriptives that I used to apply to myself.  I am “smart” and “busy” but not scatter-brained. 

That said, I am still scattered.  There are so many things I want to do, or need to do, that I sometimes don’t know where to start.  Fortunately, I have no problem leaving all those things to ferment whilst my love and I go off on another adventure!

What’s fermenting in my brain right now?  I want to write more, attend to my blog more, and somehow become more disciplined in the whole blog thing.  I also want to learn more of the “nuts and bolts” of web sites and layouts and advertisers and content and yada, yada, yada.

I am really Jones-ing to get to my art journaling, too.  I have so many wonderful supplies and journals and ideas in my head.  I have things to remember and lists to make and drawings to draw and, well, just lots of stuff to journal.  And to be a journalist, I guess.

I have hiking trails to try and clothes to make (or not) and parties to plan and an antiques booth to keep stocked.  And then, there’s the house….

Not only are there rooms to clean, and rugs to beat and flowers to plant, but there are window frames and moldings and doors to paint.  It never ends, does it?

So, where does that leave me?  Scattered?  Over-planned? Too busy to ever get it all done?  Or what?

Ah, that’s the best part: being busy all the time!  True, sometimes I’m “busy” reading or resting, but it’s busy nonetheless…

Life is full to the brim for me and I wouldn’t have it any other way.  I will enjoy each moment and fill it with what feels right at the time.  If the house gets cleaned, that’s great but, if my art journal gets started, that’s even better!

When I’m gone, I want them to say: “her house wasn’t always clean but her heart and her life were full.”

That works for me…

Cali

Friends....

I am sitting here looking at a photo of a long-time friend.   I can see her, and hear her, as I look at the photo.  She had an infectious laugh, a heart of gold, and she never met a stranger.  Unfortunately, the photo is on the front of the program for her memorial service: she died March 25^th.

We became friends in high school.  I loved being around her because she was always so upbeat.  She had that kindness that many espouse but few really practice in real life.  She was only a stranger for ten seconds after you met her, and then she was a friend for life…..

Our children were just about the same age: the oldest being a girl, followed by two boys.  I remember when she used to come visit me at my home and bring her kids.  All the kids got along well and played together so we could sit and talk.  I remember, too, that her daughter taught my daughter the names of all the colors, or at least, all the colors that M&Ms came in….

A lot of stuff happened in her life that could have made her angry, or sent her in a downward spiral, or caused her unbearable bitterness.  But she wasn’t that way.  She was resilient.  She had an abiding faith in God and in her ability to bear anything that happened to her through His Grace.

I didn’t want to go today.  I am not a fan of funerals, but then, who is?  I asked John to go with me and, of course, he did.  The church is just two doors down from our home, so we walked.  And in the warm sunshine, I felt a shiver.  Regret? 

Perhaps.  I know that the last time I talked to her on the phone was too long ago, and I was calling to cancel a lunch date.  She lived at the coast and I was vacationing there and wanted to see her, but life intervened and I had to come home early.  I never, ever thought that I would never talk to her again.

But life is like that, isn’t it?  We postpone things we ought to do until “another day” and that day never comes.   And today, that feeling would not leave me until I got into the church and saw her smiling face in the photo slide show.  And I know now that she thought of me as often as I thought of her, and that we could get together tomorrow and it would be just like old times.

But there won’t be a tomorrow with her.

As we walked in the church, we were greeted by another friend from high school days.   She approached me, smiled, and gave me a hug.  I heard someone else say my name and I turned around to see another friend from high school.  And I got another hug.

As we were trying to decide where to sit, I saw more friends, and decided we would sit right behind them.  And there were more hugs.  And introductions, although they all knew about John and our “adventures” from my posts on Facebook.

The service was amazing.  The eulogy caused many, many tears in the church.  And the testimonials from all those high school friends made us all smile and laugh despite our tears.

Is it possible to learn lessons from someone who is dead?  Or maybe it’s lessons from the exemplary life she led…. She reminded me to stop having regrets and to act on my instincts.  “Get out there and live and stop being so introverted!”  I can hear her saying that to me and then laughing.

The tragedies that befell her in her life were terrible, but the joy she brought to each and every day of her life was inspiring.  She never felt sorry for herself, and she never stopped trying to find the good in everybody and everything.

After the funeral, we walked home and I cried.  I was overwhelmed with the outpouring of kindness and the hugs I received.  I was deep in thought about my friend and wondering how to deal with my thoughts.  I decided to go shopping….

Retail therapy?  No, not really.  There are two new babies in our family and we want to send them gifts to let them know how happy we are to have them in our lives.  No more assuming that they will know how much we care.

I have to tell them…..

I was shopping in a craft store when I saw someone I used to work with in the operating room.  Being somewhat introverted and socially awkward (in my opinion), I would normally have just kept going and assumed that she was too busy to talk to me or she wouldn’t remember me.

Not today: I walked right over to her and said “hi!”  We spent almost 45 minutes “catching up” on what has been going on in our lives.  It was good to see her again, but it was great that I didn’t just walk away, knowing that she didn’t see me…..

And tonight, I will wrap baby gifts and address the boxes, then mail them in the morning.  I think I will also send an email to each of my kids and remind them that I love them and I’m thinking about them.  And I think I’ll send messages on Facebook to the friends I saw today and tell them how good it felt to see them again.

Thank you, Jeannie……

Cali