Category Archives: Life Happens

Service

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There are places I remember
All my life, though some have changed
Some forever not for better
Some have gone and some remain
All these places have their moments
With lovers and friends I still can recall
Some are dead and some are living
In my life I’ve loved them all~ Lennon/McCartney

I attended a memorial service today. I think I was the youngest person there. We were celebrating the life of someone I first remember from 1976. This remarkable woman and her late husband took care of us when my grandfather died and my parents had to go overseas to help my grandmother. My parents were gone for three weeks. In that time, I learned that “idle hands were the devil’s work” and meatloaf actually came in a color other than confetti (my mother had a habit of mixing everything and anything into ground beef to make it stretch further). Her son became our “cousin” and was so much a part of our growing up that even though it’s been twenty years since I saw him, he’s still “Cuz.”

The sermon wasn’t anything resembling a eulogy. It was about relationships and how our human relationships don’t end with death. Rather, those bonds sustain us as we ourselves move towards death and, depending upon your beliefs, reunion with those who have gone before.

This summer has been one of reflection for me. I’ve had many hours by myself and spent some of them revisiting the places of my youth. As I drove around my old haunts, I had time to think about all the memories. My first elementary school where I met my “kindergarten husband.” The second one where I got in trouble for bringing a banned book to school. The junior high I attended is now completed fenced in like Fort Knox and is a preparatory school. My high school, which I remember as being located in the middle of a cotton field, is also fenced in and surrounded by strip malls. I guess this is the “some forever, not for better” part of the story.

But the people I’ve reconnected with are like favorite tee-shirts. A bit worn and maybe faded, but they still fit perfectly. You would think after being gone almost 25 years, things would have changed between us. Yet we greet each other as if no time has passed.

As I stood in the church today, I realized that things have changed for many people. The churches I attended as a young adult were “progressive” and “forward thinking.” I caught myself wondering if that was a good thing. I grew up in a religious tradition steeped in ritual. I found myself saying the “old school” version of the prayers. There was incense and bells (bells and smells as we kids called it). My memories are, of course, shaped by time. But even with the well-rounded edges that occur from turning them over and over in my mind they are brought into sharp focus when placed back in context.

I’ll miss my “aunt” and everything she taught me growing up. As the priest said today, she is among the last of a generation that served without questioning or seeking glory. Long before churches started offering “Alpha groups” and ways to “reconnect our youth,” there were people who attended church for the communion with others in worshipping under a common umbrella. Congregations welcomed new members and all pitched in to keep things running. I think that’s what’s been missing in my more recent forays into churches.

So, dear readers, think about your relationships. I want to be able to say I’ve loved them all and that is true for the most part. Help me change “for better” so the next generation understands that service is not a burden. Don’t let my aunt’s generation be the last that serves without seeking glory. Above all, make sure you love them all….

A Letter to My Son

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Do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Twenty years ago, I was a young, scared parent who had a 10 month old and found out another child was on the way. Those remaining eight months were stressful. I was sick, we moved, my husband started a new job which created the possibility of a deployment and my unborn boy was thought to be at risk for birthing complications. Yes, we knew from the multiple ultrasounds that our baby was a boy. The only easy part about this time was picking out a name.

My son arrived 19 years ago today. It was a messy delivery, ending up in an emergency C-section to deliver a baby that weighed 11 pounds, 15.6 ounces. We round it up to 12 pounds for storytelling purposes. My husband had to go to the store and buy diapers because the nursery didn’t have any to fit him.

To my It-Man:

You came into this world ready to tackle anything, literally. Doctors asked if we were ready to sign you up for a football team. You blew all the growth charts out of the water. Running around at 10 months. Charming everyone with your smile. Being taller than your sister and loving it. When you grew taller than me, you were so proud!

We faced challenges over the last 19 years, but I have seen how those challenges shaped you as a young man. I wouldn’t trade one minute of our past. Those bumps just made our lives more interesting. Sometimes, I think other parents could learn a lot from our experience. Our path was definitely not the well-travelled road that so many of your peers followed.

I hope you remember all the people who helped you become the man you are now. The camping trips, the reunions, Boy Scouts, Robotics, teachers and friends that helped guide you along the way and most of all, your family. There was an entire village that helped you reach this point. I’ve forgotten some of the names, but I’m truly grateful for their presence in your life.

As you celebrate this weekend, keep all of us with you. Look to the future, but never forget the past. It’s time for you to try out those wings we gave you a few years ago. Your tree is firmly rooted in the ground, but your path is now yours to forge. I know you can find your way back if you want or need to. Soar…take in your surroundings…enjoy the journey. Find your own path, knowing your village is extremely proud of you.

Happy birthday, It-Man.

The Friend I Thought I Knew

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Be courteous to all, but intimate with few, and let those few be well-tried before you give them your confidence.~ George Washington

I have had reason to ponder this quote recently. So far my readers know I am a medically disabled mom who uses a service dog. I’ve also disclosed some of my philosophies about parenting. I long ago learned that friends come and go for various reasons and because of those experiences, I tend to not disclose very much about myself. You see, like many of you, I’ve had friends that for whatever reason decide they no longer want to be my friends. Some of those relationships ended up being downright poisonous. Others, well, they ended in less overt painful actions.

I learned to be courteous to all from my parents. I was raised to believe that all life has value and it is up to me to find that value then cherish and nurture it in the best way I can. Sometimes, it is a fleeting moment such as giving up a seat on a crowded bus. Other times, I find myself becoming closer to someone over the long-term and taking them in confidence. However, I have learned to guard my heart and the number of people who know me very well is small. Today, I have learned yet again that, as Oprah puts it, “everyone wants to ride in the limo, but few want to ride on the bus.”

I have watched my children stumble with relationships many times. Their fair weather friends have, unfortunately, been many. I am helpless to do anything but watch as yet another human being hurts my child. Some of them do it accidentally, but others seem to thrive on personal attacks. After these train wrecks, I am left to pick up the pieces. Much like my beloved procedural novel heroes, I try to figure out why. Inevitably, I end up looking at the adult role models for the bully and discover that it is a familial trait. I have long since stopped trying to talk to other parents as it seems I’m among the minority of parents who hold themselves and their children accountable for their actions.

You may be wondering what brought on this examination of friendships. It has to do with what I perceive to be my ability to be courteous to all. Some people take my courtesy to mean they know me, what is best for me and how to “be there” for me. Dear readers, the news is that I have hundreds of friends in real life. Yet, the ones who could actually give you my address number less than a dozen. Because of my willingness to listen, people assume they know me well. Then, when I break course, they determine I was never their friend. And the rumors start. Then the painful realization that yet another person dislikes me because I didn’t fit their mold sets in.

Over and over, yet I keep trying. My kids do too, probably because they were also raised to enter into a friendship with an open mind. They have started to learn not to open their hearts readily. I find this sad because at their ages, they have experienced so much hatred for being themselves that they no longer extend an open hand to everyone who walks into their lives. They are missing the richness that a diverse group of friends brings to life. They are missing opportunities to nurture others because they have been hurt so much they feel the need to not only guard their hearts, but put a moat around themselves as well.

I ask that each of you think about the impact your words and actions have on your friends. I want you to consider whether you are causing pain to others in your life. Think about your fellow humans and how it feels when you say or do something for your own personal gain at their expense. We all have feelings. Just think before you act…if you wouldn’t like it, what makes you think someone else will?

Pay It Forward

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Patience is necessary, and one cannot reap immediately where one has sown.~ Soren Kierkegaard

I was recently part of a discussion about parenting children with special needs. One person basically came right out and said there was no way I could understand a child with Autism because I’m “just” a mother. Another commented that because my children aren’t “severely” disabled, I can’t understand what other parents are going through. I’ve already written about how I feel when people start playing the disability olympics. I struggle so much with wanting to tell people that every day is a new day and then being shot down as overly optimistic.

I am optimistic when it comes to children. They represent new opportunities for everyone. Just as each adult brings a new thread to the tapestry of life, so do our children. If you think about it, we were all children once. We learned, struggled and overcame obstacles. We became reflections of our upbringings.

It is those upbringings that parents are responsible for. It’s tough being a parent. Despite all the parenting advice out there, each kid is unique and doesn’t fit “perfectly.” I’ve had friends whose babies started sleeping through the night within weeks of birth. Other parents have had to cope with colic for over a year. Consequently, we’ve all learned to adapt to our children’s needs in order to keep our lives running more or less smoothly.

My knowledge of children with disabilities comes from both raising Autistic children, working with children who have significant disabilities in the school setting and providing advocacy assistance for families whose children have a variety of disabilities. I do not profess to have all the answers. But, I can offer advice from a variety of perspectives. The first piece of advice I always offer is that tomorrow is another day.

I have been following another blogger as her toddler with Autism grows. When I first started reading that blog, I smiled a knowing smile to myself. The frustration and love for her child were evident in her writing. Yet, I knew she had many days of discovery in her future. Life would change, sometimes for the good and sometimes for worse. She is now blogging about how cool it is to watch her child start to do tasks that her friend’s kids did a year ago. I wanted to say “I told you it would be okay” so many times, yet did not feel it was my place.

My advice to all adults out there, parents or otherwise, is to be patient. Be patient with yourselves. Be patient with your children. Be patient with the kids you have in your life. Know that parents are trying to figure out how to be parents. Don’t judge, even if your kids share a disability diagnosis. Be kind. Remember that you’re a role model for those around you. You don’t have to be perfect, just patient.

Voyages

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Most children threaten at times to run away from home. This is the only thing that keeps some parents going.~ Phyllis Diller

Parenting. The final frontier. Bravely going where no one has gone before. Well, sort of. We’ve all had parental figures in our lives. Yet, each one of us has some quirky little things that others do not. In others words, parenting is a journey we make with others, on parallel and occasionally intersecting paths.

I have 3 biological children in my life in addition to scores of others that have been passed through my hands as a teacher, Scout leader and child advocate. A couple of days ago, I was in a conversation with my youngest about the benefits of being the youngest. My point was, I made all of my parenting mistakes on her siblings. Her point was, I still make far too many mistakes.

I’ve been thinking about this a lot. Not to mention being reminded of it daily now by my youngest. I found out today that I hadn’t taught my son how to address an envelope. My oldest is still trying to figure out how to put together “outfits” of a professional style. And my youngest told me yesterday that her life would be so much easier if I’d just get a clue. Ah, yes, the grand times of parenting. Yet, it is strangely fulfilling to hear them whine and realize that if that’s all I did “wrong,” I’m pretty darn lucky.

This blog is a short one on purpose. I have more mistakes to go make…..

If it has teeth….

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My own quote today…Anything with teeth can bite you.

I mean real teeth, not metaphorical for once. I’ve had a guppy latch onto my finger. I’ve had dogs, cats and guinea pigs bite me. I’ve had children bite me by accident. I’ve had teenagers bite me on purpose. Family members, students and even a stranger have bitten me. Are all these people and animals evil for biting me?

I don’t think so. Sometimes I’ve deserved it…really, if you stick your hand in a guinea pig cage you should expect a nibble. Working with students who have severe disabilities means sometimes things happen when students are frustrated. Horseplay frequently leads to someone being bit in my house. It’s just part of what to expect.

By now, you are probably wondering why I’m talking about bites. In my social media platform I received notification about a company that denied access to a girl and her service dog (http://doggirlpitbull.blogspot.com/2013/09/famed-california-tourist-spot-bans-pit.html#). The girl has Autism, the dog is a pit bull. From the sounds of it, they were denied access because of the bully breed. My point is, anything with teeth has the capacity to bite you. It has nothing to do with the organism in specific. It’s just part of the package you have to accept when you decide to be around things with teeth.

Just in case you’re not familiar with service dogs, I’d like to correct a few statements made in the article linked above. By Federal law, service dogs are not required to be “certified” or “registered.”  Some states do require a registration tag for identification, but that is a state requirement for people who reside permanently in that state. Nor are service dogs required to be “vested” or “harnessed” for identification purposes. I’m not required to carry documentation or “paperwork” about my disabilities or my dog. By law, a business owner can ask if my dog is a service dog and does she mitigate a disability. That’s it. See http://www.ada.gov/qasrvc.htm for more specifics. The owner may also ask me to leave if my service dog is acting unruly or disrupting business (although not if her alert is to draw attention to my medical needs).

My service dog is a blue heeler mix. The breed is well-known for their high energy and herding abilities. Most people seem to be familiar with how these dogs nip at ankles to get people to move along. I get many comments about “how can you have a dog like that around children?” The answer is easy – she was trained not to nip at ankles.

Before you condemn a breed because of reputation, look who’s holding the leash. I have many friends in the service dog community that rely on bully breeds because of their ability to perform mobility work. These dogs are highly trained and are no more threatening than the person standing next to you. A poorly trained dog, whether it be a chihuahua or a Great Dane, is a poorly trained dog.

As an aside, next time you want to bite someone, remember you just might get a reputation as a vicious individual.

One day

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The best thing about the future is it comes one day at a time.~ Abraham Lincoln

This last week has been a whirlwind. With so much happening in my life and all around me, it is hard to slow down and catch a breath. I pushed myself hard this week in preparation for enforced rest that will be coming soon. I am so not looking forward to that time. But for now, I shall keep pushing every day.

I’ve met some amazing people in the last few months in addition to reconnecting with people from my past. I was thinking on the airplane Friday about how rich my life has become. And how I would never had met these people if I hadn’t been forced to slow down. Through social media, I’ve made friends with people around the globe. Every day, I now get a peek into how other people see the world. It fascinates me how many different, yet similar, perspectives my friends have. I had no idea that one of my childhood friends, whom I’ve considered an introvert for over 40 years, is actually quite the extrovert. It wasn’t until I took the time to “chat” with this person that I realize how much time had shaped us.

Jumping to greater community, I’m amazed at how people are helping each other. My state experienced enormous loss due to fire in June and is now being inundated with rain, leading to widespread flooding. I’ve lived here 11 years and watched as the community seemed to rend itself over ideological issues. On the news a few minutes ago there was a story about how people have set their differences aside and opened their homes, churches and other places of refuge to those in need. I just kept thinking it would be great if these same people could remain side by side when the regular day-to-day living conditions return.

I don’t know if George Strait is a fan of Abraham Lincoln, but it seems they share a philosophy. Strait sung “life’s not the breaths you take but the moments that take your breath away” a few years ago. Build your day around the moments. Take each day as it comes. I bet you’ll find your life in richer than you ever imagined.

Lemon Trees

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Storms make trees take deeper roots.~ Dolly Parton

Over the last week I’ve had to deal with many storms, from raging tornadoes to mild showers. I’m not done dealing with the damage these metaphorical storms caused in my life, but I am making progress. Just like meteorological storms, these metaphorical storms had many causes as well as confluences. The one thing they all have in common is the impact on me.

We’ve all heard about making lemonade. What happens if your lemon tree is destroyed? I’ve had some pretty crazy things happen this summer that fall under the lemon category from a major car accident to a life-altering new diagnosis. My friends would tell you I’ve smiled and sailed right on through, lemonade in hand. In truth, I haven’t. I’ve struggled mightily with some of these things. I’ve tried to rationalize why things happened to me. I’ve gone through at least some of the stages of grief around each event. And I’m still standing.

The last major event nearly knocked me over. I fled back to the safety of my family. The place I knew would be shelter in a storm. Once the eye of this last storm passed over, I realized that my roots were deeper than I thought. While some of these roots are definitely on the surface, others run right down to the well. I discovered that I need both in order to thrive.

Last night I was on the phone with another friend. Her life has also been uprooted, more so than mine. As we talked, I let our conversation flow over me and turn about in my mind. The thought that the points we focus on the most become our lives popped up. When I focus on my health, everything else seems to fade away. When I focus on my family, the rest of my problems melt into the ground. I do have many things on my mind and I can multi-task, but when the big items hit, they get my full attention. This can be both a positive and a negative. It’s positive, because obviously a major health issue demands attention. It’s negative because I become so wrapped up in that focal point, that I let everything else go. Then when I’m ready to return to “normal,” I find that normal has changed. It can be quite disconcerting.

The key is to keep redefining normal. My normal is not your normal. As I’ve previously said, we are all different. But by re-prioritizing and trying to keep the bigger picture in mind, I will grow deeper roots. These things that interrupt my life are but leaves on a tree. They will eventually fall away and become insignificant. My roots, however, need nurturing. I need to remember to water them frequently. The shallow ones will eventually serve their purpose as well and will wither away. The deeper roots, the ones that make me strong, will grow even deeper and help keep me anchored when the next storm rolls through.

The next time a storm rolls through your life, think about your roots. Even better, start thinking about them now. Have you been watering them enough? Have you cultivated some strong anchor roots? Do you have enough surface roots to hold you in place through a mild shower? Right now, I think I’m going to go pick up the old watering can.

Think, then blink

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guid·ance (n.) 1. The act or process of guiding. 2. Counseling, such as that provided for students seeking advice about vocational and educational matters. 3. Any of various processes for guiding the path of a vehicle or missile, by means of built-in equipment.

I have discovered a new meaning for the word guidance. It apparently can also be defined as “using policy to shirk responsibility.” As in “the guidance says that can’t be done.” Rather than think independently, it becomes easier to follow guidance. The end result is a group of people who rely solely on the opinion of others to make decisions.

In some ways, this form of guidance is very similar to definition 3 above. The trajectory of my life is being guided by the built-in mentality that allows people to blame their lack of interest on “guidance.” If this sounds bitter, it’s because the more I look at things, the more I realize how often policy dictates decision. Gone are the days of thinkers such as Jefferson. In their place, we have groups whose information and conclusions seem valid enough that another larger group believes those ideas.

You can find this group thinking across all aspects of your life, from the workplace to heath care to current politics. Ever wonder why you can’t wear sneakers to work? Would it impact productivity? Probably not. But along the way, someone decided sneakers were unprofessional and no one has challenged it so, no sneakers. Have you wondered why you have to go to physical therapy before your doctor will consider that you really hurt something? A flow chart has determined your fate. Politics…well, that’s self-explanatory.

There’s an old saying that two heads are better than one. If it stopped at 2 heads, we might have some semblance of balance. Add a 3rd, 4th or more and things start to become imbalanced. In trying to reach consensus, the individual is lost. Policy becomes more important than people.

That is my rallying cry for today. I am a person, not policy. All the flow charts in the world can’t contain my humanity. I appreciate the concept of guidance, but I do not believe that it should ever replace the power of individual thought.

Live, Love, Laugh

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There cannot be a crisis next week. My schedule is already full.~Henry A. Kissinger

This quote was made in jest during a time of intense political stress. Yet, it rings true today because we have filled our lives with things that need doing, places we must go and people who demand our presence. Our lives have become schedules, without room to pause and savor what is right in front of us.

One of my friends recently attended the funeral of a very good friend. My friend found herself unable to cry at the service and was wondering what was wrong with her. I thought about this for a while, as I am prone to cry at a picture of cute puppies. Then I realized, it’s because my friend lives in the now. She savored her time with her friend as it came and thus had no regrets other than losing the companionship of a dear friend. They laughed and shared life every day. Even though her friend passed rather suddenly, my friend found herself understanding that life is meant to be lived right now, not as a series of regrets.

I frequently joke about how my housekeeping skills have been lacking for the last decade. No, I’m not a hoarder and my house, while messy, is not unsanitary. I’ve just found that as my kids were growing up, I wanted to be involved in their lives. I led Scouts, volunteered at schools, taught my kids to serve others and made dinner almost every night. The dust bunnies could wait. My life was full of kids and their activities.

Today, I am grateful I lived in the now. My kids are young adults and can fend for themselves. The only major skill they lack is housekeeping, but that probably has to do with me being a poor role model. My days are still full, but not with the things I want them to be. Living in the now was crazy busy, but strangely liberating.

I encourage all of you to pause for a few moments and look at your schedule. Then look at your life. Happiness is found in doing the things you love. Don’t worry about a crisis…there will undoubtably be one anyway. Live, love, laugh. Those three words sum up how to handle a crisis.