If you are a fan of The Phantom of the Opera, you know the title of this blog is a lyric from a very beautiful song. Tonight, that lyric speaks volumes to me. As the week winds down, my heart grows heavier with each passing day as I face the 4th anniversary of my son Michael's death. You can understand why I hate November 6.
It's not as though Michael is far from my thoughts or heart any other day or week, but during the week leading up to the 6th I find him even more present than usual. I find myself wondering what he would look like today at 24. Would he have achieved his goal of being taller than his eldest brother Chris? Would he be able to grow a full beard with no blank spaces unlike his brother Andrew? Would he be married? Would he be creating stunningly beautiful and frighteningly fast cars as he always dreamed? Lots of questions never to be answered.
I'm certainly not the first mom to lose a child, and sadly I won't be the last. And although I was told the hurt would get better with time, it doesn't. My heart aches to hear his laugh, which I cannot pull from my memory. I would give anything to see him with his brothers once again, laughing or playing cards or puffing on a cigar on the deck as they did so often. To feel his hug again would be paradise and worth all that I own. But my arms are empty and the silence that was once his voice is deafening to me. And even though it's been 4 years, that day and the week leading up to it still knocks me sideways. My grief doesn't mean I loved Michael more than Chris and Andy, or somehow lessens their importance to me, it simply means there is a hole in my heart that cannot be filled.
So this week, my family and dearest friends have remembered that it's a tough week for me and have offered support at every turn. I am so grateful for that love. I cannot express how much it means to me. My dear, dear friend Anita wrote this to me after we exchanged messages and I dumped my sadness and fears on her, "If you are too scared to look ahead, and too sad to look backward, then look to your side and you will find me there." How do you say thank you for or repay friendship and love like that? She has endured her own losses again and again and yet, she is there for me asking nothing and offering everything.
So the week will come to an end. The 6th will roll around as it does every year. My boys will be here and they will let me cling to them and I will cry and we will share stories of our Michael. And with Sunday a new year will start again. In December, we will welcome a new life to our family as Sarah and Andrew give us a new Michael. And as I welcome this precious new boy, this new Michael, my heart will release just a bit of the pain of the loss of my Michael. And that is good. I wish I could give it all away, but that's just not possible. He was my child, my baby, 1/3 of my heart and I will forever find myself wishing he was somehow here again. Written with love for my son, Michael Thomas Herbert, April 29, 1986 - November 6, 2006.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
What a Difference Chocolate Can Make!
Well, it's been quite a while since I've added anything to my blog. It's not that I haven't thought about it, I've just been totally immersed in my new job. I LOVE IT! I mean what's not to love? It's home parties with chocolate as the main ingredient for heaven's sake! And not just any chocolate - Lindor Truffles, Excellence Bars, Pralines ... my taste buds think they have died and gone to heaven! Who knew learning a product line could be so much fun!
Now, although I've worked with different products as a part of my career for over 29 years, my new colleagues neglected to warn me about a few consequences of this product line. Things like, once you've made hot chocolate using premium chocolate, you'll never be able to go back to Swiss Miss again. Seriously? Water and chocolate flavored powder? Never again. Or, that dude Duncan Hines? Yeah, he had no clue what real chocolate brownies should taste like. No more brownies or cakes from a box. And, I just thought Mozart was an amazing composer. I had no idea there's a chocolate temptation that bears his name. To think that during all those years of piano lessons, when my mom asked me what I was working on, I could have answered Mozart and been telling the absolute truth as I popped chocolate into my face! My piano playing wouldn't have improved, but I would have had lots more fun practicing!
But beyond just enjoying amazing tastes, my new job has opened the door to lots of other emotions. For example, the home office is in the beautiful northeast and my eyes were treated to oranges, reds and yellows so vibrant they could make a person cry from the sheer beauty. Next, along the exit ramp on the highway, was a line of bittersweet bushes that wore deep orange berries like a fur coat. They triggered a memory of picking bittersweet with my mom when I was a girl and just the sight of those bushes brought her alive once again for me for a few fleeting minutes - it was pure joy. Finally, I step out of my car to enter the home office, and take a deep breath and I am treated to the aroma of chocolate being created - oh my! What a change from taking a whiff of cars cooling off in a parking lot! A smile takes over my face and what a great way to start the day at work - smiling!!
So, I'm loving life right now - at least in the career department! I'm so looking forward to our launch and watching many find laughter and joy and earn money while they're at it! And heck, when it comes to learning the product line, well it's just like the song says ... "I've Only Just Begun"! Well, gotta run, I hear a Truffle calling my name! MMMMMMM.......silky, milk chocolate!! Catch you later my friends!
Now, although I've worked with different products as a part of my career for over 29 years, my new colleagues neglected to warn me about a few consequences of this product line. Things like, once you've made hot chocolate using premium chocolate, you'll never be able to go back to Swiss Miss again. Seriously? Water and chocolate flavored powder? Never again. Or, that dude Duncan Hines? Yeah, he had no clue what real chocolate brownies should taste like. No more brownies or cakes from a box. And, I just thought Mozart was an amazing composer. I had no idea there's a chocolate temptation that bears his name. To think that during all those years of piano lessons, when my mom asked me what I was working on, I could have answered Mozart and been telling the absolute truth as I popped chocolate into my face! My piano playing wouldn't have improved, but I would have had lots more fun practicing!
But beyond just enjoying amazing tastes, my new job has opened the door to lots of other emotions. For example, the home office is in the beautiful northeast and my eyes were treated to oranges, reds and yellows so vibrant they could make a person cry from the sheer beauty. Next, along the exit ramp on the highway, was a line of bittersweet bushes that wore deep orange berries like a fur coat. They triggered a memory of picking bittersweet with my mom when I was a girl and just the sight of those bushes brought her alive once again for me for a few fleeting minutes - it was pure joy. Finally, I step out of my car to enter the home office, and take a deep breath and I am treated to the aroma of chocolate being created - oh my! What a change from taking a whiff of cars cooling off in a parking lot! A smile takes over my face and what a great way to start the day at work - smiling!!
So, I'm loving life right now - at least in the career department! I'm so looking forward to our launch and watching many find laughter and joy and earn money while they're at it! And heck, when it comes to learning the product line, well it's just like the song says ... "I've Only Just Begun"! Well, gotta run, I hear a Truffle calling my name! MMMMMMM.......silky, milk chocolate!! Catch you later my friends!
Sunday, October 10, 2010
People, Planes and Pains in the Patoot
As a result of my career change, I have had the "opportunity" to be on planes and spend more time in airports over the past several weeks. And I must say, aside from the usual hassles, these are great locations to study human behavior. Some things make me shake my head in wonder and others just make me laugh!
Let's start in the airports. Going through the security check lines is nothing short of an adventure! From watching people lugging impossibly heavy bags as carry-ons to avoid the baggage fees, to the attire, to the language, it's just short of a circus. I watched a man decked out in full motorcyle regalia, complete with studded jacket, belt, wrist bands and dog collar stand in amazement that the metal detectors went off. (That was as close to a strip search as I ever want to be.) Then there is the woman who is about 5 feet tall who doesn't want to take off her stilletto heels, but doesn't want to be "wanded" either, and is complaining because she is going to be late for her flight because security just won't let her through. And finally there is the passenger who seemingly doesn't get it that EVERY coin in his pocket is going to set off alarms and goes back and forth through the arch placing one coin at a time into the little dish!
Now once you're through security it should be smooth sailing right? Not a chance! You now get to play dodge-em with the courtesy transportation beeping relentlessly, backpacks and carry ons that are wider than a person's body and slappng everyone they pass and listen to the constant announcements from every gate that let you know that the flights are overbooked and they are looking for volunteers to change their plans and take a voucher, blah, blah, blah. In DC last week there were 4 agents in a very confined area all shouting into their PA systems at the same time. It sounded like an auction house or the floor of the stock exchange! It was insane and not one of them bothered to look up to see passengers covering their ears it was so loud and obnoxious! They honestly acted like overbooking is something that occurs once in every 10,000 flights. HA! And how about the race to stand in line when your seating area is called? I do believe we all have assigned seats, so what's the hurry? We're all going to leave at the same time and arrive at the same time, why sit on a stuffy plane any longer than needed just to watch others walk on board? Makes little sense to me!
OK - we're on the plane, or trying to get on the plane. People are trying to jam duffle bags, purses the size of shopping bags and roller bags into spaces that clearly aren't large enough. What a surprise, it doesn't fit, so they come back down the aisle - like salmon swimming upstream - acting outraged that the plane isn't big enough. Really? You mean you didn't hear the 14 announcements about how small the aircraft is? Finally all seats are taken and now is when the gender differences kick in big time. I have learned that men cannot resist plopping their elbows on the arm rest between the seats, crossing their legs in the proverbial figure 4 and leaning into the space beside them so they can fully open their Wallstreet Journal or USA Today and read edge to edge. Does this make them more manly or satisfy some need to contol all the space around them? Don't really know, but it's very consistent. And women? Oh my, why does every woman on the plane assume that the person next to them either requires mothering or is going to become their best friend in the next 60 minutes and converse and laugh at volumes I fondly call their "outside voices"? Oh, the things I've heard from women 4 rows behind me!
Finally, there are the announcements by the crew. Yes, I understand they need to be done, but seriously, is there anyone on this planet that doesn't know how to fasten a seatbelt in this day and age? Or are we so dim-witted that we can't figure out that we need to sit down before the plane can take off? And my favorite is the announcement about using your seat cushion as a flotation device sould there be a water landing necessary, on flights that don't cross 1 inch of water on their flight path. Is it so tough to read through your announcements and make the ones that only fit your situation or are the attendants as bored as we are with these things and do it straight from memory and don't listen themselves? Just makes you go hmmmm.
Anyway, just as my Gandfather used to love people watching, I too find myself observing people en route to somewhere. It's a study in humanity, habits and hilarity. Next time you fly somewhere, just watch what goes on around you, it could be the most enjoyable part of your whole trip!
Let's start in the airports. Going through the security check lines is nothing short of an adventure! From watching people lugging impossibly heavy bags as carry-ons to avoid the baggage fees, to the attire, to the language, it's just short of a circus. I watched a man decked out in full motorcyle regalia, complete with studded jacket, belt, wrist bands and dog collar stand in amazement that the metal detectors went off. (That was as close to a strip search as I ever want to be.) Then there is the woman who is about 5 feet tall who doesn't want to take off her stilletto heels, but doesn't want to be "wanded" either, and is complaining because she is going to be late for her flight because security just won't let her through. And finally there is the passenger who seemingly doesn't get it that EVERY coin in his pocket is going to set off alarms and goes back and forth through the arch placing one coin at a time into the little dish!
Now once you're through security it should be smooth sailing right? Not a chance! You now get to play dodge-em with the courtesy transportation beeping relentlessly, backpacks and carry ons that are wider than a person's body and slappng everyone they pass and listen to the constant announcements from every gate that let you know that the flights are overbooked and they are looking for volunteers to change their plans and take a voucher, blah, blah, blah. In DC last week there were 4 agents in a very confined area all shouting into their PA systems at the same time. It sounded like an auction house or the floor of the stock exchange! It was insane and not one of them bothered to look up to see passengers covering their ears it was so loud and obnoxious! They honestly acted like overbooking is something that occurs once in every 10,000 flights. HA! And how about the race to stand in line when your seating area is called? I do believe we all have assigned seats, so what's the hurry? We're all going to leave at the same time and arrive at the same time, why sit on a stuffy plane any longer than needed just to watch others walk on board? Makes little sense to me!
OK - we're on the plane, or trying to get on the plane. People are trying to jam duffle bags, purses the size of shopping bags and roller bags into spaces that clearly aren't large enough. What a surprise, it doesn't fit, so they come back down the aisle - like salmon swimming upstream - acting outraged that the plane isn't big enough. Really? You mean you didn't hear the 14 announcements about how small the aircraft is? Finally all seats are taken and now is when the gender differences kick in big time. I have learned that men cannot resist plopping their elbows on the arm rest between the seats, crossing their legs in the proverbial figure 4 and leaning into the space beside them so they can fully open their Wallstreet Journal or USA Today and read edge to edge. Does this make them more manly or satisfy some need to contol all the space around them? Don't really know, but it's very consistent. And women? Oh my, why does every woman on the plane assume that the person next to them either requires mothering or is going to become their best friend in the next 60 minutes and converse and laugh at volumes I fondly call their "outside voices"? Oh, the things I've heard from women 4 rows behind me!
Finally, there are the announcements by the crew. Yes, I understand they need to be done, but seriously, is there anyone on this planet that doesn't know how to fasten a seatbelt in this day and age? Or are we so dim-witted that we can't figure out that we need to sit down before the plane can take off? And my favorite is the announcement about using your seat cushion as a flotation device sould there be a water landing necessary, on flights that don't cross 1 inch of water on their flight path. Is it so tough to read through your announcements and make the ones that only fit your situation or are the attendants as bored as we are with these things and do it straight from memory and don't listen themselves? Just makes you go hmmmm.
Anyway, just as my Gandfather used to love people watching, I too find myself observing people en route to somewhere. It's a study in humanity, habits and hilarity. Next time you fly somewhere, just watch what goes on around you, it could be the most enjoyable part of your whole trip!
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Relax Eeyore!
If you have ever read any Winnie the Pooh stories, you are familiar with his little donkey friend, Eeyore. Eeyore is a slow moving little guy, with a very deep voice, who just never seems to be happy. He constantly worries about everything and sees only the negative in situations. Well, it has come to my attention recently that apparently more and more people are deciding to adopt Eeyore's disposition and to them I say RELAX!!
Someone please tell me when it became the norm to answer the somewhat rhetorical question "How are you?" with a litany of all the woes of the world? Really? Are we to the point that there is nothing positive in our lives? Or, are we so pathetic that we want everyone to feel sorry for us, so we need to disclose all the bad things in our life? Wow, I hope not!
I have seen this Eeyore syndrome front and center in a couple of cases over the past few weeks. As you may know from my previous posts, my daughter-in-law is pregnant. It's her first time, so you really don't know what to expect. What has really surprised me is how many people feel compelled to share their horror stories from their own pregnancies with her! WHY?? What does that accomplish except make her worry and wonder if it will happen to her! Being pregnant isn't easy and every pregnancy is different. You're a ball of raging hormones! Your energy is being zapped, your emotions are wild and killing a fly can send you into fits of tears! Knowing this, if you've ever been pregnant, I have to ask why women insist on sharing the worst moments of their own pregnancy with others. It's like having a bad experience becomes a badge of honor! Who had the longest labor? Who had the hardest time delivering? Who had the most scares during their pregnancy? WHO CARES?? You created life - what a miracle - that's all that matters! I do know if Eeyore was a girl, he'd love being pregnant just so he could complain all the time and be applauded for the effort!
I recently reconnected with a friend from years ago. She found me on Facebook and we started with the usual pleasantries since it's been about 10+ years since we've been in contact. I simply asked, "How are things in your world?" Wrong question to ask!! I heard about a divorce, her move back in with her parents, she hates her job, hates the city where she lives and is depressed because she doesn't have any friends to go out with. Really? I can't imagine why no one wants to be around her! Eeyore would LOVE to be with her!
Finally, I'm shopping the other day and having a ball buying things for the anticipated grandbaby. I was so happy and having so much fun. I got to the checkout and mistakenly asked, "How are you today?" Oh my ... did I get an earful! She was tired, didn't want to be at work, didn't have time for breakfast so was hungry, her register wasn't cooperating and oh, did I find everything I needed? She smashed my good mood in a heartbeat! I couldn't wait to get out of that store and I promise I'll go to another register if I shop there again and she's on duty.
The point of all this is just this - everyone has problems. The world is a tough place these days. Sometimes doing your job isn't fun, that's called reality. But, do we have to foist our own woes on everyone else? Is it so hard to find something wonderful happening in your life? Did you wake up this morning? Then celebrate that! For heaven's sake, you're alive, you're breathing, you have the opportunity to make today anything you want it to be! It's easy to worry about everything, but does that change anything? Nope! Does sharing everything bad in your life with someone else make it any better? Nope! You might feel better for a minute or two, but probably nothing really changed. You'll share the same bitter remarks with the next person you meet as well and what does that accomplish?
If you're in a service role, put your woes away for the time you meet the public. Try smiling! If you are reconnecting with old friends and your life hasn't been so great, ask yourself why before you dump on that friend. Assess how much of your pathetic life is the fault of your attitude. If you know someone who is doing the toughest job on the planet - creating life - then shut up about your trials and tribulations when you carried a child and share the great moments of pregnancy and delivery. It's really not all that hard. If you walk away from a conversation thinking "Wow, that person is a bummer", ask yourself how many people walk away from you saying the same thing.
Trust me, Eeyore is an adorable little guy physically, but his attitude sucks. But you know what? We don't all have to be Eeyore's. Don't be a donkey - RELAX! We'll all be a lot happier in the long run.
Someone please tell me when it became the norm to answer the somewhat rhetorical question "How are you?" with a litany of all the woes of the world? Really? Are we to the point that there is nothing positive in our lives? Or, are we so pathetic that we want everyone to feel sorry for us, so we need to disclose all the bad things in our life? Wow, I hope not!
I have seen this Eeyore syndrome front and center in a couple of cases over the past few weeks. As you may know from my previous posts, my daughter-in-law is pregnant. It's her first time, so you really don't know what to expect. What has really surprised me is how many people feel compelled to share their horror stories from their own pregnancies with her! WHY?? What does that accomplish except make her worry and wonder if it will happen to her! Being pregnant isn't easy and every pregnancy is different. You're a ball of raging hormones! Your energy is being zapped, your emotions are wild and killing a fly can send you into fits of tears! Knowing this, if you've ever been pregnant, I have to ask why women insist on sharing the worst moments of their own pregnancy with others. It's like having a bad experience becomes a badge of honor! Who had the longest labor? Who had the hardest time delivering? Who had the most scares during their pregnancy? WHO CARES?? You created life - what a miracle - that's all that matters! I do know if Eeyore was a girl, he'd love being pregnant just so he could complain all the time and be applauded for the effort!
I recently reconnected with a friend from years ago. She found me on Facebook and we started with the usual pleasantries since it's been about 10+ years since we've been in contact. I simply asked, "How are things in your world?" Wrong question to ask!! I heard about a divorce, her move back in with her parents, she hates her job, hates the city where she lives and is depressed because she doesn't have any friends to go out with. Really? I can't imagine why no one wants to be around her! Eeyore would LOVE to be with her!
Finally, I'm shopping the other day and having a ball buying things for the anticipated grandbaby. I was so happy and having so much fun. I got to the checkout and mistakenly asked, "How are you today?" Oh my ... did I get an earful! She was tired, didn't want to be at work, didn't have time for breakfast so was hungry, her register wasn't cooperating and oh, did I find everything I needed? She smashed my good mood in a heartbeat! I couldn't wait to get out of that store and I promise I'll go to another register if I shop there again and she's on duty.
The point of all this is just this - everyone has problems. The world is a tough place these days. Sometimes doing your job isn't fun, that's called reality. But, do we have to foist our own woes on everyone else? Is it so hard to find something wonderful happening in your life? Did you wake up this morning? Then celebrate that! For heaven's sake, you're alive, you're breathing, you have the opportunity to make today anything you want it to be! It's easy to worry about everything, but does that change anything? Nope! Does sharing everything bad in your life with someone else make it any better? Nope! You might feel better for a minute or two, but probably nothing really changed. You'll share the same bitter remarks with the next person you meet as well and what does that accomplish?
If you're in a service role, put your woes away for the time you meet the public. Try smiling! If you are reconnecting with old friends and your life hasn't been so great, ask yourself why before you dump on that friend. Assess how much of your pathetic life is the fault of your attitude. If you know someone who is doing the toughest job on the planet - creating life - then shut up about your trials and tribulations when you carried a child and share the great moments of pregnancy and delivery. It's really not all that hard. If you walk away from a conversation thinking "Wow, that person is a bummer", ask yourself how many people walk away from you saying the same thing.
Trust me, Eeyore is an adorable little guy physically, but his attitude sucks. But you know what? We don't all have to be Eeyore's. Don't be a donkey - RELAX! We'll all be a lot happier in the long run.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Baby Pictures
I had the most incredible experience today - I watched an ultrasound of my future grandson! What amazing technology! I know I sound old and dated and all that, but remember, we didn't have ultrasounds when I was pregnant with my sons. We never knew the gender before the birth and we had to actually count the fingers and toes the first time we held our child. There was no "preview" of size or parts or size of parts! We just waited with anticipation and enjoyed the surprise.
Anyway ... I was fortunate today to have been invited by my son and daughter-in-law to accompany her to an ultrasound. I'm familiar with the technology and I've been awed by it in the past, but let me tell you, there is NOTHING like seeng your grandchild in the womb. It puts a huge jolt into your system and you just sit and smile like an idiot! I guarantee today wasn't much fun for Sarah, but I can't remember such a feeling of undiluted joy!
Now, as things go, our little boy was very relaxed today. In fact, it appeared that he couldn't have cared less what was going on. He was lying on his back with one hand behind his head. His other hand was up close to his head, sort of like he was signaling for a taxi or a waiter. At one point he had his little legs crossed at the ankles and I have a darling picture of his teeny-tiny foot! It's about the size of my thumb, but you can clearly count 5 toes - no guesswork necessary!
We viewed the top of his head, followed his spine, measured his thigh and then hovered over his heart. Oh my!! What a miracle to see a heartbeat!! And to hear it as well! I could have watched and listened to that for hours. And then he turned ever so slightly and we saw his beautiful, sweet face! It brought tears to my eyes then and does again now as I write. It makes him so real ... a child of my child. Abolutely amazing! I thought being a mom was about the coolest thing ever, but I'm thinking this Grandma stuff could easily eclipse that feeling - sorry boys, but it's something you can't explain!
Anyway ... it was a day to witness God's greatest creation and gift to us, a child! I have always said and taught that we should cherish each moment with our children. They are on loan to us from God and only He chooses how long we get to be together. So to have experienced seeing this little guy while he's still in there baking, is something that will live in my heart and my memory forever. Sarah - you honor me by allowing me to see this miracle, thank you a million times over. Andrew and Christopher - I love you with every fiber of my being, but you'd better prepare yourself - there's a new kid in town and he's stealing pieces of my heart!!
Anyway ... I was fortunate today to have been invited by my son and daughter-in-law to accompany her to an ultrasound. I'm familiar with the technology and I've been awed by it in the past, but let me tell you, there is NOTHING like seeng your grandchild in the womb. It puts a huge jolt into your system and you just sit and smile like an idiot! I guarantee today wasn't much fun for Sarah, but I can't remember such a feeling of undiluted joy!
Now, as things go, our little boy was very relaxed today. In fact, it appeared that he couldn't have cared less what was going on. He was lying on his back with one hand behind his head. His other hand was up close to his head, sort of like he was signaling for a taxi or a waiter. At one point he had his little legs crossed at the ankles and I have a darling picture of his teeny-tiny foot! It's about the size of my thumb, but you can clearly count 5 toes - no guesswork necessary!
We viewed the top of his head, followed his spine, measured his thigh and then hovered over his heart. Oh my!! What a miracle to see a heartbeat!! And to hear it as well! I could have watched and listened to that for hours. And then he turned ever so slightly and we saw his beautiful, sweet face! It brought tears to my eyes then and does again now as I write. It makes him so real ... a child of my child. Abolutely amazing! I thought being a mom was about the coolest thing ever, but I'm thinking this Grandma stuff could easily eclipse that feeling - sorry boys, but it's something you can't explain!
Anyway ... it was a day to witness God's greatest creation and gift to us, a child! I have always said and taught that we should cherish each moment with our children. They are on loan to us from God and only He chooses how long we get to be together. So to have experienced seeing this little guy while he's still in there baking, is something that will live in my heart and my memory forever. Sarah - you honor me by allowing me to see this miracle, thank you a million times over. Andrew and Christopher - I love you with every fiber of my being, but you'd better prepare yourself - there's a new kid in town and he's stealing pieces of my heart!!
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Saturday In The Park
Well, today I took the advice of the hit song by Chicago and spent Saturday in the Park - well at least part of the day. And oh my, the sights to be seen!
I took a drive over to Columbus to a shopping village called Easton. It's a beautiful property with outside entrances to all the stores, and in the center there's a grassy area with benches and a fountain that really isn't a fountain, but about 25 or 30 underground spigots that shoot water in various patterns. Music is piped into all areas, so it creates a relaxing place to catch your breath or wait on those who are joining you.
After Building A Bear for my future grandson (which was a BLAST), I had time to just sit and observe - something my Grandfather used to love to do! He would go to the state house in downtown Columbus and sit for hours, taking in the world around him. I did the same today and I have to say it was actually pretty humorous. Now, imagine a day in the high 60's, a bright blue sky with puffy clouds moving overhead, a wonderful breeze rustling the trees behind you and sparrows chattering and chasing each other. You're on a bench and you observe:
A very pregnant young lady with her mammoth husband, who is several steps ahead of her and not really aware of where she is - he's on his cell phone. She is struggling to hang on to her purse, get the panel of her maternity jeans up over her belly and keep her maternity shirt down over the panel. She would pull up the panel and the shirt would come up; she'd pull down the shirt and the panel would slide down; back and forth, back and forth. You get the pciture. She was fairly oblivious to all who were around her, but everyone got quite a view as this couple progressed. The husband never did turn around! I'm totally not making fun of her - I feel for her! I remember being pregnant a million years ago and walking along as my pantyhose rolled down over my belly. It' ain't pretty and it's mighty uncomfortable!
To your right, there is a collection of children hanging on a decorative wrought iron fence watching a grouping of model trains go in and out of fabricated mountains, tunnels and trees. There are several trains, with different themes and as they come into view, this gaggle of kids chants what they are looking at: "An-i-mals, An-i-mals, An-i-mals!", followed by "Trucks and cars, Trucks and cars, Trucks and cars!" and finally when the train with the Ohio State Buckeye insignia and tiny plastic football players in and on top of rail cars, you hear, "Buck-eyes, Buck-eyes, Buck-eyes." Now, we're talking 3, 4 and 5 year olds here. I had to smile as the Buckeye train passed and there was an exchange between 2 of the younger gazers. The first said, "What's a Buckeye?" and the answer came back, "Not Buckeye, Black-eyes! Somebody must have got hurt." Ah ... true sports fans.
Now, swing your eyes to the center and rivet them on the water experience. Two toddlers are squatting down just outside the reach of the exploding water. Their eyes are round with wonder and anticipation. They're too young to know what a pattern is or that such a thing even exists. So, they glance in all directions trying to guess where the next geyser will appear. They squeal with the glee of a child that is surprised again and again and you have to wonder how in the heck they can sit back on their heels that long without falling over! At long last, one of the dads comes to retrieve his little one. Apparently he's not been paying attention to what happens here, because he turns his back on the water holes, leans over to pick up his toddler just as this Ohio version of Old Faithful does it's thing. Bullseye! A shot in the keester and adults dissolve into laughter that cannot be construed as sympathetic all around him! He is shocked, then embarrassed and finally, just takes a bow and slinks away to connect with his hysterical wife!
Actually, it was great to just sit, to see all stages of life around. Girls with the shortest shorts imagineable, boys with their tongues hanging out trying to follow without being seen. Young couples holding hands, giggling the nervous giggles of young love. And my favorite - the seniors who are also walking hand in hand, simply taking it all in. Theirs is a leisurely walk of comfort and years of knowing each other. They smile at the little ones by the water, caution the younger ones hanging on the fence to see the trains and simply shake their head at the daddy with the wet behind! One gentleman smiles knowingly, pauses and kisses his best girl on the cheek - no words needed, but volumes spoken between them.
It was a GREAT afternoon!
I took a drive over to Columbus to a shopping village called Easton. It's a beautiful property with outside entrances to all the stores, and in the center there's a grassy area with benches and a fountain that really isn't a fountain, but about 25 or 30 underground spigots that shoot water in various patterns. Music is piped into all areas, so it creates a relaxing place to catch your breath or wait on those who are joining you.
After Building A Bear for my future grandson (which was a BLAST), I had time to just sit and observe - something my Grandfather used to love to do! He would go to the state house in downtown Columbus and sit for hours, taking in the world around him. I did the same today and I have to say it was actually pretty humorous. Now, imagine a day in the high 60's, a bright blue sky with puffy clouds moving overhead, a wonderful breeze rustling the trees behind you and sparrows chattering and chasing each other. You're on a bench and you observe:
A very pregnant young lady with her mammoth husband, who is several steps ahead of her and not really aware of where she is - he's on his cell phone. She is struggling to hang on to her purse, get the panel of her maternity jeans up over her belly and keep her maternity shirt down over the panel. She would pull up the panel and the shirt would come up; she'd pull down the shirt and the panel would slide down; back and forth, back and forth. You get the pciture. She was fairly oblivious to all who were around her, but everyone got quite a view as this couple progressed. The husband never did turn around! I'm totally not making fun of her - I feel for her! I remember being pregnant a million years ago and walking along as my pantyhose rolled down over my belly. It' ain't pretty and it's mighty uncomfortable!
To your right, there is a collection of children hanging on a decorative wrought iron fence watching a grouping of model trains go in and out of fabricated mountains, tunnels and trees. There are several trains, with different themes and as they come into view, this gaggle of kids chants what they are looking at: "An-i-mals, An-i-mals, An-i-mals!", followed by "Trucks and cars, Trucks and cars, Trucks and cars!" and finally when the train with the Ohio State Buckeye insignia and tiny plastic football players in and on top of rail cars, you hear, "Buck-eyes, Buck-eyes, Buck-eyes." Now, we're talking 3, 4 and 5 year olds here. I had to smile as the Buckeye train passed and there was an exchange between 2 of the younger gazers. The first said, "What's a Buckeye?" and the answer came back, "Not Buckeye, Black-eyes! Somebody must have got hurt." Ah ... true sports fans.
Now, swing your eyes to the center and rivet them on the water experience. Two toddlers are squatting down just outside the reach of the exploding water. Their eyes are round with wonder and anticipation. They're too young to know what a pattern is or that such a thing even exists. So, they glance in all directions trying to guess where the next geyser will appear. They squeal with the glee of a child that is surprised again and again and you have to wonder how in the heck they can sit back on their heels that long without falling over! At long last, one of the dads comes to retrieve his little one. Apparently he's not been paying attention to what happens here, because he turns his back on the water holes, leans over to pick up his toddler just as this Ohio version of Old Faithful does it's thing. Bullseye! A shot in the keester and adults dissolve into laughter that cannot be construed as sympathetic all around him! He is shocked, then embarrassed and finally, just takes a bow and slinks away to connect with his hysterical wife!
Actually, it was great to just sit, to see all stages of life around. Girls with the shortest shorts imagineable, boys with their tongues hanging out trying to follow without being seen. Young couples holding hands, giggling the nervous giggles of young love. And my favorite - the seniors who are also walking hand in hand, simply taking it all in. Theirs is a leisurely walk of comfort and years of knowing each other. They smile at the little ones by the water, caution the younger ones hanging on the fence to see the trains and simply shake their head at the daddy with the wet behind! One gentleman smiles knowingly, pauses and kisses his best girl on the cheek - no words needed, but volumes spoken between them.
It was a GREAT afternoon!
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Snips and Snails and Puppy Dog TALES
My gang range in age from 4 - nearly 10 years. I have 3 males and 2 females. Samson is the oldest and he is a sturdy, black pug who is gaining more salt than pepper in his coat. He has lost most of his bottom teeth, but that doesn't stop him from eating,drinking or attempting to smile occasionally. He moves a bit slower than the rest of the gang, but he gets where he needs to go in his own sweet time. Sweetie is next in line and she is the matriarch of the bunch. She rules the roost and the other 4 know it! She is a pretty little thing, and her sweet face is only interrupted by a tongue that is about an inch too long for her mouth, so she simply lets it hang out. Quite fetching really and oddly enough she has no clue it hangs out all the time.
Sherman is next in line and he is an offspring of Samson and Sweetie. He's rather high strung and gets jealous quickly if any of the others take up residence in my lap. Jewels is the doll-baby of the troop. She is a sleek black pug that has a face that resembles a baby seal. She is quiet and very calm, probably as a result of being deaf. And while being deaf may seem sad, she's the happiest pug ever - nothing disturbs her! She can lay down next to a running vacuum cleaner and fall instantly asleep because her world is Q-U-I-E-T! Trust me, there are days that I envy her! She and Sherman were mates when I was breeding pugs and their offspring is Tug, my fifth pug.
Tug is the real character of the lot. At some point in his puppy days, he must have dreamed of being a kangaroo because I gotta tell you, this pug has "ups". He can jump straight from the floor to the center of the kitchen counter with no problem. He often greets me with a jump into my arms at shoulder height, always trusting that I'll catch him. Sometimes he's right! And like any baby in a family, he expects to get his way in every situation.
Together, they are a creative little group and I imagine two of them standing by the garage door and three of them standing in the window watching me pull away each day. Then, likely, one of them yells, "All clear, she's gone!" And that, my friends is the signal to Tug to check out the counter tops to see what's there to be investigated! In my mind's eye, I can see him jumping up and down and reporting to the others, who are on the floor, "Ok, we've got a loaf of bread." Jumping again, "And I see a bag of something, hold on." Lands and jumps up again, "Yep, it's the jackpot - Cheetos!" At this pronouncement the others are probably drooling and barking and running circles around each other. Tug knows his job - get the Cheetos - although loaves of bread are his personal favorite!
Now, I happen to know Cheetos are the favorite pick, because I have returned from work to find a bag on the floor with only the hind end of a pug sticking out. No pug head is visible - it is deep in the bag. With a slight cough or exclamation, the bag is quickly shed and the front half of the pug emerges. And where a black muzzle and mask would usually be - two bug eyes protrude from a very orange face. Now, with Tug, he thinks that he can get away with this whole shenanigan simply by avoiding meeting my eyes. He is completely clueless that he has orange Cheeto fuzz all over his face. So he looks quickly away, peering ever so slowly out of the corner of his eye to see if I'm still looking at him. This happens two or three times before he relents, lowers his curly tail and slinks over for my forgiveness. He alone is taking the blame - the others have totally fled the scene, leaving Tug holding the bag (so to speak).
Over the years, I have discovered pugs with their noses stuck in peanut butter jars, sleeping on a large pile of individual shoes from various pairs, investigating the bottom shelf of my pantry and once - sitting IN the refrigerator as I was disposing of some fuzzy green food! Right now, as I write, they are all piled up together snoring for all their worth. It's a bit noisy, but there is a rhythm to the breathing and I can identify each one by their own pattern. And while they may seem self-centered and totally ornery, they are generous in their affection and they willingly share. On one business trip, I opened my suitcase to find a small stack of dog biscuits. Apparently they were worried I wouldn't eat while I was away. No reason to worry there!
Of course, my family and many friends think I've lost my mind having 5 pugs. Maybe I have, who knows? But I can say this - my life is never dull and if I choose to diet, they'll help me ... all I have to do is leave the junk food close to the edge of the counter!
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Crazy or Just Alive?
Have you ever had one of those days (or weekends) where it feels like every emotion in your body is on high alert? I hope so, because if you haven't, then I'm losing my mind. Here's what's happened.
Yesterday, before it started to rain here in good old Nashport, I was out on the deck outside my bedroom. My bedroom is on the third floor of my house and is actually treetop high. This gives me a peaceful view of the 5 acres of woods (sounds like Winnie the Pooh) that I own and I spend a fair amount of time up there watching squirrels and birds and once in a while a beautiful red-tailed hawk. Well, as I was scanning the back 40, I noticed that a giant tree that had long since lost all its branches and weather had smoothed away its bark wasn't standing where it should be. This particular tree is a big sucker, so I was really surprised that it was hidden by the others. Being curious, I went to my second floor deck and checked again from a wider angle. Nope - couldn't see it. So I went to my bottom floor and out on to my patio and peered through the trees. Well, my grand old tree was gone! Sometime during the last week, it had fallen. I could see it lying on the ground from my vantage point and tears came to my eyes!! Tears for a tree, really? I don't know what came over me! I guess I started thinking about the squirrels who lived in the tree and the woodpecker who played his percussion on it every morning and wondered where they would go. I just stood there for a few minutes letting the tears come. Then I quickly looked around to see if anyone could see me - idiot - my backyard is totally secluded! I shook my head and went inside.
Now later in the day, after I had worked for several hours, I needed a mind break. I have this game on my computer called Fishdom. It's a game where you work on large grids, getting 3 squares of particular images in order to clear out golden squares and earn money to later buy fish, food and decorations for aquariums. The puzzles start out pretty easy, but gradually get harder. Now I don't want to come right out and say that I've played this game frequently, but I was on level 142 and feeling pretty proud because I'd never failed a level. Well, level 142 was a kick in the head to say the least and as I was getting closer and closer to running out of time, I apparently started yelling at the computer - telling it where to put things and where to move things and to quit doing things. I finally realized I was yelling outside of my head, when my pugs (all except Jewels, who is deaf) bolted out of their snoring and started barking. Nearly scared me off my chair! And yes, I failed the level.
Now it's evening and I'm watching a program of gospel singing which I love. A gentleman by the name of GeorgeYounce, who passed in 2005, was being memorialized. He was an amazing bass singer, but a story teller of the highest order. He told the story of a 7 year old who was on a field trip to a police station. During the trip the children were taken to see the bulletin board of the Most Wanted criminals. As the story goes, as the kids looked at the board in awe, this particular little boy put his hand up. The officer doing the tour acknowleged him and he said, "Sir, I have a question." "Go ahead young man," came the officer's reply. "Well, sir, if these are the most wanted criminals in America, why didn't you just keep them when you had them here to take their picture." I started laughing out loud and that little story still strikes me as funny and I still laugh out loud.
The final outburst came when I read a posting from my son Andrew on FaceBook - he felt his expected baby boy kick for the first time! I lost it! Tears are right here again even as I write this. What joy! I imagine him holding that little bundle in December and I can hardly contain myself.
So, maybe I'm losing my mind, who knows. Some would say it's just old age. Maybe. I like to think maybe it's God's way of showing me that I'm truly alive. If I can feel sorrow that a tree has fallen, anger because I can't pass a level of a game, happiness because of a silly joke and joy for my son who has created life - I must be OK! I sure don't like to think about the alternative! Thanks for indulging me, SMILES to everyone reading this!
Yesterday, before it started to rain here in good old Nashport, I was out on the deck outside my bedroom. My bedroom is on the third floor of my house and is actually treetop high. This gives me a peaceful view of the 5 acres of woods (sounds like Winnie the Pooh) that I own and I spend a fair amount of time up there watching squirrels and birds and once in a while a beautiful red-tailed hawk. Well, as I was scanning the back 40, I noticed that a giant tree that had long since lost all its branches and weather had smoothed away its bark wasn't standing where it should be. This particular tree is a big sucker, so I was really surprised that it was hidden by the others. Being curious, I went to my second floor deck and checked again from a wider angle. Nope - couldn't see it. So I went to my bottom floor and out on to my patio and peered through the trees. Well, my grand old tree was gone! Sometime during the last week, it had fallen. I could see it lying on the ground from my vantage point and tears came to my eyes!! Tears for a tree, really? I don't know what came over me! I guess I started thinking about the squirrels who lived in the tree and the woodpecker who played his percussion on it every morning and wondered where they would go. I just stood there for a few minutes letting the tears come. Then I quickly looked around to see if anyone could see me - idiot - my backyard is totally secluded! I shook my head and went inside.
Now later in the day, after I had worked for several hours, I needed a mind break. I have this game on my computer called Fishdom. It's a game where you work on large grids, getting 3 squares of particular images in order to clear out golden squares and earn money to later buy fish, food and decorations for aquariums. The puzzles start out pretty easy, but gradually get harder. Now I don't want to come right out and say that I've played this game frequently, but I was on level 142 and feeling pretty proud because I'd never failed a level. Well, level 142 was a kick in the head to say the least and as I was getting closer and closer to running out of time, I apparently started yelling at the computer - telling it where to put things and where to move things and to quit doing things. I finally realized I was yelling outside of my head, when my pugs (all except Jewels, who is deaf) bolted out of their snoring and started barking. Nearly scared me off my chair! And yes, I failed the level.
Now it's evening and I'm watching a program of gospel singing which I love. A gentleman by the name of GeorgeYounce, who passed in 2005, was being memorialized. He was an amazing bass singer, but a story teller of the highest order. He told the story of a 7 year old who was on a field trip to a police station. During the trip the children were taken to see the bulletin board of the Most Wanted criminals. As the story goes, as the kids looked at the board in awe, this particular little boy put his hand up. The officer doing the tour acknowleged him and he said, "Sir, I have a question." "Go ahead young man," came the officer's reply. "Well, sir, if these are the most wanted criminals in America, why didn't you just keep them when you had them here to take their picture." I started laughing out loud and that little story still strikes me as funny and I still laugh out loud.
The final outburst came when I read a posting from my son Andrew on FaceBook - he felt his expected baby boy kick for the first time! I lost it! Tears are right here again even as I write this. What joy! I imagine him holding that little bundle in December and I can hardly contain myself.
So, maybe I'm losing my mind, who knows. Some would say it's just old age. Maybe. I like to think maybe it's God's way of showing me that I'm truly alive. If I can feel sorrow that a tree has fallen, anger because I can't pass a level of a game, happiness because of a silly joke and joy for my son who has created life - I must be OK! I sure don't like to think about the alternative! Thanks for indulging me, SMILES to everyone reading this!
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
The Skype's the Limit
Well, I'm feeling pretty proud of myself tonight - I've added Skype to my online arsenal! Now that may not seem like a big deal, but for me it is! And it is SO cool!
Now to give you background, I am totally inept at video, computer and audio equipment. I usually have to have Chris (my eldest son) help me out. Considering that Chris lives in West Virginia, he is usually talking me through the process and I am guessing at the buttons I'm supposed to be pushing. Let me give you an example.
A few weeks ago, my sister came to visit from Topeka. Her 7 year old grandson, Braeden, was with her, which was very cool. Of course at 7, you play DS, but you also have to play Wii or XBox or PS2 or 3 or whatever number it's up to now. I have a Wii, so we were set. Except that the Wii was upstairs on a television and we wanted it 2 floors below in the family room. So, we moved it. It was no big deal to get it downstairs, after all it's a tiny box, a little strip that sits on top of the TV and some controllers. Got it. So it's all hooked up and then I realize you have to change some settings on the TV to get it to play. Uh-OH!
There are about a million buttons on the controller and we happen to have two controllers for the TV - don't ask me why, we just do. You get to choose from format, input, aspect, menu, info and a dozen other words. I'm pushing buttons like a maniac and no picture is emerging. The Wii is on, we can see the blue light. Grrr, so I resort to the step I didn't want to take - I call Chris. See, I consider myself to be a fairly intelligent woman and to have to call my son because I can't figure out a remote control is just humiliating.
Chris is patient, as always,although I do get the requisite "Maaa!!!" after I've greeted him and then tell him I need help with the TV. You'd think he wouldn't care that he has explained this same function about a dozen times at least and I just can't get it to sink in! He of course identifies the problem immediately, I'm using the smooth remote instead of the one with the ragged corners the dogs chewed eons ago. That's the one that has the magic button. But, naturally, the dogs were appalled by the labeling system on that remote and chewed off every blinking word. I can't find the right button because while the button is still there (barely), there is no way to know what it does. Chris knows, because as most boys/men, he has the entire remote memorized by touch. He doesn't even have to look at it - his fingers go automatically. He guides me to the third button down, second row, click it twice and we have Wii. Lovely. Of course, when Braeden left and the Wii was no longer being used, the TV picture was still messed up and it took me a week to get it back to filling the screen. And no, I did not call Chris, I watched it with a picture that was a small box, too wide for the screen cutting off heads and elongated so everyone looked like football-heads.
But I digress as usual. Today for some unknown reason I decided I wanted to learn to skype. So I downloaded the program (after talking to Chris), and went through all the steps. Checked my webcam to be sure it's functioning and then called Chris to do a test run. And IT WORKED!! The picture was awesome - I was so happy, I could see my Chris full screen!! And I'm hearing him loud and clear. And suddenly he's yelling, "Ma!, Ma! Are you there?" Razzle - he can see me, but can't hear me. You can guess what comes next ... he's telling me to check this control and that control and I'm writing notes and holding them up to the camera so he can read what I can or can't do. It was insane. The problem was quickly identified - my webcam doesn't have a microphone! Oh brother!
So, it's off to Staples, purchase a microphone that thankfully simply plugs into my USB port (even I can handle that), I call Chris and ask him to do another test run and SUCCESS!! I see him, I hear him, I can change him from full screen to 1/2 ... I'm a genius!
Bottom line, I've taken another step and added a new function to my online arsenal! I can't wait to try it with other friends and family! The only downside? Now I have to clean up the area the camera can see and there'll be no more making faces at some of the conversations!! Maybe I'll just put a pug in the chair and hold the microphone under the desk!
Now to give you background, I am totally inept at video, computer and audio equipment. I usually have to have Chris (my eldest son) help me out. Considering that Chris lives in West Virginia, he is usually talking me through the process and I am guessing at the buttons I'm supposed to be pushing. Let me give you an example.
A few weeks ago, my sister came to visit from Topeka. Her 7 year old grandson, Braeden, was with her, which was very cool. Of course at 7, you play DS, but you also have to play Wii or XBox or PS2 or 3 or whatever number it's up to now. I have a Wii, so we were set. Except that the Wii was upstairs on a television and we wanted it 2 floors below in the family room. So, we moved it. It was no big deal to get it downstairs, after all it's a tiny box, a little strip that sits on top of the TV and some controllers. Got it. So it's all hooked up and then I realize you have to change some settings on the TV to get it to play. Uh-OH!
There are about a million buttons on the controller and we happen to have two controllers for the TV - don't ask me why, we just do. You get to choose from format, input, aspect, menu, info and a dozen other words. I'm pushing buttons like a maniac and no picture is emerging. The Wii is on, we can see the blue light. Grrr, so I resort to the step I didn't want to take - I call Chris. See, I consider myself to be a fairly intelligent woman and to have to call my son because I can't figure out a remote control is just humiliating.
Chris is patient, as always,although I do get the requisite "Maaa!!!" after I've greeted him and then tell him I need help with the TV. You'd think he wouldn't care that he has explained this same function about a dozen times at least and I just can't get it to sink in! He of course identifies the problem immediately, I'm using the smooth remote instead of the one with the ragged corners the dogs chewed eons ago. That's the one that has the magic button. But, naturally, the dogs were appalled by the labeling system on that remote and chewed off every blinking word. I can't find the right button because while the button is still there (barely), there is no way to know what it does. Chris knows, because as most boys/men, he has the entire remote memorized by touch. He doesn't even have to look at it - his fingers go automatically. He guides me to the third button down, second row, click it twice and we have Wii. Lovely. Of course, when Braeden left and the Wii was no longer being used, the TV picture was still messed up and it took me a week to get it back to filling the screen. And no, I did not call Chris, I watched it with a picture that was a small box, too wide for the screen cutting off heads and elongated so everyone looked like football-heads.
But I digress as usual. Today for some unknown reason I decided I wanted to learn to skype. So I downloaded the program (after talking to Chris), and went through all the steps. Checked my webcam to be sure it's functioning and then called Chris to do a test run. And IT WORKED!! The picture was awesome - I was so happy, I could see my Chris full screen!! And I'm hearing him loud and clear. And suddenly he's yelling, "Ma!, Ma! Are you there?" Razzle - he can see me, but can't hear me. You can guess what comes next ... he's telling me to check this control and that control and I'm writing notes and holding them up to the camera so he can read what I can or can't do. It was insane. The problem was quickly identified - my webcam doesn't have a microphone! Oh brother!
So, it's off to Staples, purchase a microphone that thankfully simply plugs into my USB port (even I can handle that), I call Chris and ask him to do another test run and SUCCESS!! I see him, I hear him, I can change him from full screen to 1/2 ... I'm a genius!
Bottom line, I've taken another step and added a new function to my online arsenal! I can't wait to try it with other friends and family! The only downside? Now I have to clean up the area the camera can see and there'll be no more making faces at some of the conversations!! Maybe I'll just put a pug in the chair and hold the microphone under the desk!
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Patrick
Patrick is a 24 year old young man who grew up in small town America, Dresden, Ohio to be exact. He is the youngest of 5 children and likely had the advantages of being the "baby". Only the family knows for sure. He does pretty much what every young man his age does, he lives on his own, holds a job, drives a car, plays video games, listens to rock music, goes out with friends, checks out the hotties while he's out with those friends, looks for that special "someone" who will fill his heart and life, drives his mom crazy and sometimes just wants to be left alone. He's a tall, slender dude with a cherubic round face and a dimple you could lose a pearl in! Until recently he had hair to the midde of his back, which worked for him, and I can't say if he has tattoos or not - none of my business really. Until recently Patrick was just like every other 24 year old going through the motions of growing up and searching for who he is.
All of that changed last year when Patrick learned he had leukemia. He'd been bruising a bit more often than usual, experiencing the discomfort of bloody noses and decided maybe he should get things checked out. The results weren't what anyone expected. So, he started the regimens of chemo and vowed that he was going to "kick leukemia in the face". He endured the bone aching exhaustion that chemo brings about, he cut his fabulously long hair and donated it before the leukemia forced him to lose it strand by strand. He stepped out of what should have been a fun-filled life and turned himself over to doctors and technicians and nurses - strangers who gave him care and encouragement. He gained ground slowly, and through sheer will of effort, he put the leukemia in remission.
So why am I telling you this story today? Because Patrick was one of my Michael's best buddies and he is the youngest brother of my beautiful daughter-in-law Sarah. And because Patrick learned this past week, that the leukemia has returned.
Now when I see Patrick or hear of what's going on in his life, I remember the joy he and Michael shared as children. Oh, they were ornery for sure! In fact, it was through a note Patrick wrote to our family at Michael's funeral that I learned of an escapade the two shared. It was the day Michael got his driver's license. He apparently went and picked up Patrick to take him for the first ride as a legal driver. As Patrick explains in his note, they went "cruising" through Zanesville (a little burg in southeast Ohio). Michael had a Firebird as his first car. (Yeah, I know, what was I thinking!) He loved that car, for all the reasons any 16 year old would love a Firebird. Anyway ... apparently they decided to take a ride on 70E, the main highway between our area and Columbus. As Patrick reports it, they had a great time and as a result of the ride, he knew what it was like to go 110 mph! 110 on the first day with his license ... had I known I would have taken those keys away and shredded that license! But they both knew that, hence I never knew while Michael was alive!
Anyway, Patrick represents the good guys in life. He is a true friend to those around him. He lights up a room with his smile and his eyes sparkle. But some of that sparkle is gone. He has endured too much for someone his age and I want it to stop! I am a firm believer in the power of prayer and the impact of faith. I want to see Patrick live a long life and be a daddy - if for no other reason than for his sons to pull some of the stunts on him that he and Michael pulled on Linda (Patrick's mom) and me! So, today as I wondered and stressed over what I could do to help Patrick, I decided that if the power of 1 prayer can make a difference, the power of thousands of prayers could really put a dent in this thing!
So, I have reached out to my 650+ friends on Facebook and asked them to read this blog today. I am asking everyone who reads it to raise up Patrick in your prayers, whatever your faith may be, and ask everyone on a prayer list, or a friend list to do the same. We need thousands and thousands of prayers flying heavenward to give Patrick the strength he needs to fight this thing one more time. I believe in Patrick - he's a fighter, but every fighter needs someone in his corner. Please help me fill Patrick's corner with love, hope, inspiration and strength. He's not my son, but he touched my son's life and that's very important to me and I am thanful that their lives crossed. I am grateful to everyone reading this, your prayers will make a difference. My thanks.
All of that changed last year when Patrick learned he had leukemia. He'd been bruising a bit more often than usual, experiencing the discomfort of bloody noses and decided maybe he should get things checked out. The results weren't what anyone expected. So, he started the regimens of chemo and vowed that he was going to "kick leukemia in the face". He endured the bone aching exhaustion that chemo brings about, he cut his fabulously long hair and donated it before the leukemia forced him to lose it strand by strand. He stepped out of what should have been a fun-filled life and turned himself over to doctors and technicians and nurses - strangers who gave him care and encouragement. He gained ground slowly, and through sheer will of effort, he put the leukemia in remission.
So why am I telling you this story today? Because Patrick was one of my Michael's best buddies and he is the youngest brother of my beautiful daughter-in-law Sarah. And because Patrick learned this past week, that the leukemia has returned.
Now when I see Patrick or hear of what's going on in his life, I remember the joy he and Michael shared as children. Oh, they were ornery for sure! In fact, it was through a note Patrick wrote to our family at Michael's funeral that I learned of an escapade the two shared. It was the day Michael got his driver's license. He apparently went and picked up Patrick to take him for the first ride as a legal driver. As Patrick explains in his note, they went "cruising" through Zanesville (a little burg in southeast Ohio). Michael had a Firebird as his first car. (Yeah, I know, what was I thinking!) He loved that car, for all the reasons any 16 year old would love a Firebird. Anyway ... apparently they decided to take a ride on 70E, the main highway between our area and Columbus. As Patrick reports it, they had a great time and as a result of the ride, he knew what it was like to go 110 mph! 110 on the first day with his license ... had I known I would have taken those keys away and shredded that license! But they both knew that, hence I never knew while Michael was alive!
Anyway, Patrick represents the good guys in life. He is a true friend to those around him. He lights up a room with his smile and his eyes sparkle. But some of that sparkle is gone. He has endured too much for someone his age and I want it to stop! I am a firm believer in the power of prayer and the impact of faith. I want to see Patrick live a long life and be a daddy - if for no other reason than for his sons to pull some of the stunts on him that he and Michael pulled on Linda (Patrick's mom) and me! So, today as I wondered and stressed over what I could do to help Patrick, I decided that if the power of 1 prayer can make a difference, the power of thousands of prayers could really put a dent in this thing!
So, I have reached out to my 650+ friends on Facebook and asked them to read this blog today. I am asking everyone who reads it to raise up Patrick in your prayers, whatever your faith may be, and ask everyone on a prayer list, or a friend list to do the same. We need thousands and thousands of prayers flying heavenward to give Patrick the strength he needs to fight this thing one more time. I believe in Patrick - he's a fighter, but every fighter needs someone in his corner. Please help me fill Patrick's corner with love, hope, inspiration and strength. He's not my son, but he touched my son's life and that's very important to me and I am thanful that their lives crossed. I am grateful to everyone reading this, your prayers will make a difference. My thanks.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Miles of Smiles
Have you ever driven somewhere and when you arrived you think "how did I get here?" or "wow, that was fast, I don't remember the drive at all!" I have even had the experience where I've driven the same route everyday for so long that I don't notice things around me - like a new building that has suddenly sprung up! Suddenly? Really? Don't think that's possible. Well, for some reason, today I was keenly aware of my surroundings as I came to work. Here's what I observed:
I noticed how the fog lay in layers across a field of corn creating the sense of being among the clouds. Dew was still clinging to the corn stalks that paraded in perfect rows and were close enough to the road to display their silken tops. A light breeze ruffled them making me think of ladies wearing hats with feathers. A bit further down the road and around the curve, a doe stood guard over her fawn as she tentatively nibbled on grass that sparkled with the tentative rays of sun breaking through the cloud cover. The doe raised her head, her eyes met mine for a fleeting second and the serenity of her attitude while watching her baby filled me with peace.
I continued on my journey, coming out of the rural landscape to highways leading to civilization. I observed drivers staring straight ahead, glassy eyed as they reached for their styrofoam cups of whatever libation they need to get the blood pumping for their day. No one was smiling, no one was interacting with anything but the thoughts held in the privacy of their mobile domain. Most profoundly, no one seemed happy. No one seemed to exude an energy that said "I can't wait for my day to unfold!" A sadness came upon me, wiping away the calm I had experienced driving through the back roads.
The melancholy clings to me even now. I wonder why we do this to ourselves. Why do we go through the motions each day without recognizing what is around us? Are we so jaded that we no longer appreciate God's creation and the wonder that is visible for us each day if we would simply take time to see? Why is it that only the weekends bring us the moments of joy when we see nature at play?
I live in a wooded area and have the luxury of decks around my home that are at tree top level. Over the past several weeks I have witnessed deer standing among the trees, peaking through leaves to observe me. A skunk couple has recently moved into the neighborhood and I have watched them waddle their way through underbrush, checking on each other as they go to be sure the other is close by. A racoon family recently took ownership of the fork in an old and stately oak tree. Mama racoon transports three babies up the trunk and places them in the crook of the tree and gathers them within her arms, simply to hug them, or so it appears. Birds of all colors and sizes fly in pairs to visit the feeders that hang from my decks and the chatter tells me these are friends, this is their favorite restaurant, this is a morning ritual that is enjoyed. I sit as quietly as I can and absorb the wonder.
I wish that we could all carry with us the joy of the weekend world as we go about our labors each day. A smile here and there, a nod of the head perhaps to that driver in the car in the next lane. A gesture of greeting instead of a gesture of rage when someone needs to get somewhere faster than you are choosing to travel. It really isn't that hard, or at least it shouldn't be.
Obviously, it has to start somewhere and with someone. I'm going to take on that task. I will not be a glassy eyed driver competing for the front spot at the traffic light. I will enjoy my surroundings, I will bask in the glory of another day given to me. I challenge each of you to do the same. Notice something on your drive to the office, the doctor, the grocery - it doesn't matter - then please tell me about it! I'd love to hear what is in your world each and every day!
I noticed how the fog lay in layers across a field of corn creating the sense of being among the clouds. Dew was still clinging to the corn stalks that paraded in perfect rows and were close enough to the road to display their silken tops. A light breeze ruffled them making me think of ladies wearing hats with feathers. A bit further down the road and around the curve, a doe stood guard over her fawn as she tentatively nibbled on grass that sparkled with the tentative rays of sun breaking through the cloud cover. The doe raised her head, her eyes met mine for a fleeting second and the serenity of her attitude while watching her baby filled me with peace.
I continued on my journey, coming out of the rural landscape to highways leading to civilization. I observed drivers staring straight ahead, glassy eyed as they reached for their styrofoam cups of whatever libation they need to get the blood pumping for their day. No one was smiling, no one was interacting with anything but the thoughts held in the privacy of their mobile domain. Most profoundly, no one seemed happy. No one seemed to exude an energy that said "I can't wait for my day to unfold!" A sadness came upon me, wiping away the calm I had experienced driving through the back roads.
The melancholy clings to me even now. I wonder why we do this to ourselves. Why do we go through the motions each day without recognizing what is around us? Are we so jaded that we no longer appreciate God's creation and the wonder that is visible for us each day if we would simply take time to see? Why is it that only the weekends bring us the moments of joy when we see nature at play?
I live in a wooded area and have the luxury of decks around my home that are at tree top level. Over the past several weeks I have witnessed deer standing among the trees, peaking through leaves to observe me. A skunk couple has recently moved into the neighborhood and I have watched them waddle their way through underbrush, checking on each other as they go to be sure the other is close by. A racoon family recently took ownership of the fork in an old and stately oak tree. Mama racoon transports three babies up the trunk and places them in the crook of the tree and gathers them within her arms, simply to hug them, or so it appears. Birds of all colors and sizes fly in pairs to visit the feeders that hang from my decks and the chatter tells me these are friends, this is their favorite restaurant, this is a morning ritual that is enjoyed. I sit as quietly as I can and absorb the wonder.
I wish that we could all carry with us the joy of the weekend world as we go about our labors each day. A smile here and there, a nod of the head perhaps to that driver in the car in the next lane. A gesture of greeting instead of a gesture of rage when someone needs to get somewhere faster than you are choosing to travel. It really isn't that hard, or at least it shouldn't be.
Obviously, it has to start somewhere and with someone. I'm going to take on that task. I will not be a glassy eyed driver competing for the front spot at the traffic light. I will enjoy my surroundings, I will bask in the glory of another day given to me. I challenge each of you to do the same. Notice something on your drive to the office, the doctor, the grocery - it doesn't matter - then please tell me about it! I'd love to hear what is in your world each and every day!
Monday, August 9, 2010
A Sisterly Celebration
My sister Cathy has filled my thoughts today. Not because anything is wrong, but because tomorrow, August 10 is her birthday and it's the big 6-0! I can't believe it - 60! How did that happen? How did she age when I haven't? Of course, turning 60 is cause for celebration, but it's also cause for some great memories!
Cathy is the eldest of the siblings. She is followed closely by our brother Don (Donnie to us) then I'm next, in that dreaded middle position and I'm followed by a younger brother Jeff. We've always been a close group, which is amazing since our personalities are so very different. By profession, Cathy is an elementary school teacher of 34 years; Donnie is a minister; I'm in direct sales and Jeff is a Funeral Director. Over the years, despite our professions, we have all assumed a particular role within the family and we consider them our "jobs".
Cathy is head worrier. When something is bothering us, we call the head worrier, tell her what's bothering us and let her stew about it. She would worry anyway, so why should we use our energy? Let her feel good about taking over a burden! Donnie is in charge of all things spiritual and we count on him to be our direct line to the Big Man upstairs in times of crisis. He's mighty good at his job. I'm the lecturer - it's my job to lecture any one of the other three when they are out of line or doing something really stupid. I take my job seriously. And Jeff is in charge of transportation - he earned that role by driving the hearse or limo in his line of work, owning a Studabaker, a motorcyle, a truck - you get the picture. All in all it works out pretty well and we respect the lines of each other's duties. It's all about delegating!
Now, Cathy and I honestly didn't get along as children, and it's entirely her fault. We shared a bedroom as children and she had this annoying habit of always wanting to clean it up and keep things tidy. I'm a total clutter bum, so we didn't exactly see eye to eye on the condition of our living quarters. She was sort of a prissy girl and I was a tomboy. I tried to see things her way, but she just couldn't understand my perspective. I've never gotten over the year she screamed and ran from the room when I gave her a frog for her birthday! Scared the poor frog out of his wits and made me dump sand from his bowl all over the floor! Thankfully, the sand was on her side of the room, so she had to clean it up. Hey, rules are rules - no gimmes for birthdays!
As we got older, I really thought our relationhip would improve. We built a new home and Cathy and I had separate bedrooms - sorry boys, girls need their space! So, I'm thinking, this is going to be ok - she's a teenager now, surely she'll stop being such a goody-goody! Wrong! It just got worse. She had the nerve to do her homework every night and if her curfew was 11:00, she was in by 10 of! Geez, what's up with that? She never once climbed out a bedroom window onto the garage roof and jumped to the ground to sneak out and meet a boy. Oh no, she always told Mom and Dad when she was going out! Honestly, it's her fault my poor mother nearly had a stroke when I would do creative things like that. She was so used to Cathy's straight arrow behavior that she thought I was the one out of line. Unbelievable!
Finally, Cathy goes off to college - one close to home, so she didn't have to live in a dorm. (Figures) But finally, finally she did something that I could hold over her head for years!! She joined a sorority and as they were decorating for homecoming, they were enjoying "big girl beverages" ... many "big girl beverages" - sloe gin fizz to be exact. Well, my parents decided they wanted to go to campus and check out the decorations. When we arrived, we couldn't find Cathy. We found her sorority, but not her. Her sorority sisters were giggling and acting a bit weird and standing awkwardly in front of one particular structure. Mom and Dad decided to look further down the sidewalk for their perfect child, but as we all passed the structure I heard a giggle and snort that sounded oddly familiar. Mom and Dad went on and I peaked inside the structure. There was Cathy - blottooed! Gigglng her brains out, hiding and begging me to get Mom and Dad off campus. FINALLY, she wasn't so perfect, she wasn't doing what she was supposed to do, she actually did something that wouldn't gain total approval! I loved it!
Mom and Dad never did learn of her escapade and I kept her secret like a loving sister should, but boy did it pay off over the years. Honestly, I think it was in that moment, when we held a secret that our relationship really began to bloom. I looked at her differently from then on. It wasn't worship, it was just a realization of what a great sister I have!
Throughout the years she has always been there for me, not becuase of the secret or because she had to be, but because she wanted to be. When I was going crazy with a toddler and brand new baby and the baby wouldn't stop crying, she was the one who came and held him while I brushed my teeth! When Donnie hit a steam shovel with her car, she was the one to tell him it would be OK. When Jeff wrecked a swivel rocking chair by spinning it so hard it popped off its base, she was the one to take the blame and the punishment. It's just what she did. She protected us when we didn't know we needed protecting and she made things right for us, whenever she could.
She's a pretty amazing woman, my sister. 34 years in a classroom? She deserves a medal for that alone. Today she is still married to the same man who swept her off her feet back in those college days. She has a daughter and two grandsons who are the light of her life. She's in the choir at church, substitutes as the pianist when called upon and plays the bells and chimes on special occasions. She doesn't ask for anything in return, she simply does what needs to be done. And she's the best darn worrier on the planet!
So, tomorrow I will celebrate her 60th birthday here in Ohio as she celebrates out in Kansas. I'll know it's time to celebrate when I see that glow on the western horizon that tells me all the candles have been lit! I love you Cathy - now plug your ears cause I'm gonna sing: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR CATHY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!! Here's a hug across the miles!
Cathy is the eldest of the siblings. She is followed closely by our brother Don (Donnie to us) then I'm next, in that dreaded middle position and I'm followed by a younger brother Jeff. We've always been a close group, which is amazing since our personalities are so very different. By profession, Cathy is an elementary school teacher of 34 years; Donnie is a minister; I'm in direct sales and Jeff is a Funeral Director. Over the years, despite our professions, we have all assumed a particular role within the family and we consider them our "jobs".
Cathy is head worrier. When something is bothering us, we call the head worrier, tell her what's bothering us and let her stew about it. She would worry anyway, so why should we use our energy? Let her feel good about taking over a burden! Donnie is in charge of all things spiritual and we count on him to be our direct line to the Big Man upstairs in times of crisis. He's mighty good at his job. I'm the lecturer - it's my job to lecture any one of the other three when they are out of line or doing something really stupid. I take my job seriously. And Jeff is in charge of transportation - he earned that role by driving the hearse or limo in his line of work, owning a Studabaker, a motorcyle, a truck - you get the picture. All in all it works out pretty well and we respect the lines of each other's duties. It's all about delegating!
Now, Cathy and I honestly didn't get along as children, and it's entirely her fault. We shared a bedroom as children and she had this annoying habit of always wanting to clean it up and keep things tidy. I'm a total clutter bum, so we didn't exactly see eye to eye on the condition of our living quarters. She was sort of a prissy girl and I was a tomboy. I tried to see things her way, but she just couldn't understand my perspective. I've never gotten over the year she screamed and ran from the room when I gave her a frog for her birthday! Scared the poor frog out of his wits and made me dump sand from his bowl all over the floor! Thankfully, the sand was on her side of the room, so she had to clean it up. Hey, rules are rules - no gimmes for birthdays!
As we got older, I really thought our relationhip would improve. We built a new home and Cathy and I had separate bedrooms - sorry boys, girls need their space! So, I'm thinking, this is going to be ok - she's a teenager now, surely she'll stop being such a goody-goody! Wrong! It just got worse. She had the nerve to do her homework every night and if her curfew was 11:00, she was in by 10 of! Geez, what's up with that? She never once climbed out a bedroom window onto the garage roof and jumped to the ground to sneak out and meet a boy. Oh no, she always told Mom and Dad when she was going out! Honestly, it's her fault my poor mother nearly had a stroke when I would do creative things like that. She was so used to Cathy's straight arrow behavior that she thought I was the one out of line. Unbelievable!
Finally, Cathy goes off to college - one close to home, so she didn't have to live in a dorm. (Figures) But finally, finally she did something that I could hold over her head for years!! She joined a sorority and as they were decorating for homecoming, they were enjoying "big girl beverages" ... many "big girl beverages" - sloe gin fizz to be exact. Well, my parents decided they wanted to go to campus and check out the decorations. When we arrived, we couldn't find Cathy. We found her sorority, but not her. Her sorority sisters were giggling and acting a bit weird and standing awkwardly in front of one particular structure. Mom and Dad decided to look further down the sidewalk for their perfect child, but as we all passed the structure I heard a giggle and snort that sounded oddly familiar. Mom and Dad went on and I peaked inside the structure. There was Cathy - blottooed! Gigglng her brains out, hiding and begging me to get Mom and Dad off campus. FINALLY, she wasn't so perfect, she wasn't doing what she was supposed to do, she actually did something that wouldn't gain total approval! I loved it!
Mom and Dad never did learn of her escapade and I kept her secret like a loving sister should, but boy did it pay off over the years. Honestly, I think it was in that moment, when we held a secret that our relationship really began to bloom. I looked at her differently from then on. It wasn't worship, it was just a realization of what a great sister I have!
Throughout the years she has always been there for me, not becuase of the secret or because she had to be, but because she wanted to be. When I was going crazy with a toddler and brand new baby and the baby wouldn't stop crying, she was the one who came and held him while I brushed my teeth! When Donnie hit a steam shovel with her car, she was the one to tell him it would be OK. When Jeff wrecked a swivel rocking chair by spinning it so hard it popped off its base, she was the one to take the blame and the punishment. It's just what she did. She protected us when we didn't know we needed protecting and she made things right for us, whenever she could.
She's a pretty amazing woman, my sister. 34 years in a classroom? She deserves a medal for that alone. Today she is still married to the same man who swept her off her feet back in those college days. She has a daughter and two grandsons who are the light of her life. She's in the choir at church, substitutes as the pianist when called upon and plays the bells and chimes on special occasions. She doesn't ask for anything in return, she simply does what needs to be done. And she's the best darn worrier on the planet!
So, tomorrow I will celebrate her 60th birthday here in Ohio as she celebrates out in Kansas. I'll know it's time to celebrate when I see that glow on the western horizon that tells me all the candles have been lit! I love you Cathy - now plug your ears cause I'm gonna sing: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR CATHY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!! Here's a hug across the miles!
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Bulldog In the Rain
This is a story that I have told several times to different audiences throughout my career in direct sales. One of my new "followers" (thank you) has asked me to repeat it and I'm happy to do so.
I am a dog lover and make no secret of it. I am particularly fond of what I call "smash faced dogs". These would include pugs, boston terriers, English bulldogs, you know any dog that is lacking a snout. The flatter the face, the more I love them. I currently have 5 pugs - Samson, Sweetie, Jewels, Sherman and Tug - and was a pug breeder for many, many years. So, when I say I am a dog lover, I mean it.
Anyway ... at one point in our lives we had an English Bulldog name MAC, named for Michael, Andrew and Christopher. Now MAC wasn't the brightest bulb in the pack, but then if you know bulldogs, you know they aren't known for their keen intelligence. And I admit, MAC was just plain dumb, lovable, but dumb.
Now one of MAC's favorite activities was to go outside in the rain. Which is fine, except that MAC went out in the rain, sat down and looked straight up. Get the picture? A bulldog sitting in the rain, looking straight up, with rain pouring down his nose. And choking. Yep, he'd look straight up, rain would go in his nose and down his throat and he would choke. Did that stop him from looking up or sitting in the rain? Nope - he loved it!
So, one particular rainy day, I'd had a really bad day at work. I was a Sales Director at this time for The Longaberger Company and my numbers weren't exactly where I wanted them to be. My team wasn't doing what I thought they should, I'd had a day of really frustrating calls trying to get people to go out and book shows and sell and was generally in a fairly grumpy mood when I got home. When I got home, MAC wanted to go outside. Of course he did! It was raining!!
My backyard was fairly muddy, so I decided to let MAC out the front door, which he loved! He ran straight out to the end of the front sidewalk, sat down and put his face in the air. Rain went down his nose and throat and he began choking. (Don't worry, MAC doesn't die from this behavior, this is a happy story.) It's raining pretty hard, so I'm figuring this can't be good for very long, so I need to get him back inside.
I stand in the front door - I'm not going out in the rain after any bulldog - and call him, "Come here MAC, come here good boy!" He looks at me, which temporarily stops the rain from going down his throat, wiggles just a bit and looks right back up into the rain again. Brilliant right?
So, I resort to offering him an incentive (bribe). MAC loves treats, so I get a biscuit, show him the biscuit, call to him again "Come on MAC, come on boy, come and get your biscuit." He looks at me, considers the biscuit, wiggles his backside (bulldogs don't have tails) and looks right back up into the rain. AHHHH!
I need bigger ammo. So, I pull out the big gun - a hot dog! MAC loves hot dogs, surely this will do it! So, I go back to the front door, show him the hot dog, observe my neighbor across the way staring at the goings-on from her bedroom window and then proceed to lean over and wave the hot dog to lure MAC inside, "Come on MAC, come on boy, how about a nice hot dog?!" Now, he's interested! He actually stands up! He looks at me, looks at the hot dog, takes a big breath and sits right back down and looks up! And yes, starts choking.
Now it was during this last exchange that I have an epiphany. MAC was acting exactly the way my team was acting. It didn't matter what I put in front of them, how much I begged them, pleaded with them and incented them, they weren't going to take the action I wanted them to until it was their idea. MAC turned down his favorite people-food in the whole world because at that minute, sitting in the rain was what he wanted to do. It didn't matter what I wanted for him, it wasn't his idea to come inside, so he wasn't going to. He really didn't even care that he was choking, he wanted to sit in the rain and until he was done wanting to sit in the rain, he wasn't coming in.
The moral to this story? You can provide information, you can offer the most desirable reward but you can't motivate someone else. You can inspire them. You can do your best to lead them, but motivation comes from within. It's what Dave Longaberger called the "fire in the belly". If they don't want to move, they won't. If they don't want to be successful, they won't be. If they don't want to take the action that will stop something negative from happening, you can't do it for them. You may want it for them, but it won't make it happen.
I realized that day that I had lots of bulldogs in the rain on my team. You probably know lots of bulldogs in the rain as well. Don't give up on them. Keep reaching out to them - at some point it will be their idea and they will do what you hope they will. Keep looking for the inspiration that will work. And more importantly, ask yourself if you are someone else's bulldog in the rain! If you are waiting for someone else to motivate you, it's not going to happen. Only you can do that. In MAC's case? I went inside, just left the front door open. He came in pretty quickly when he could no longer see me standing there - it was no fun to be in the rain with nobody watching. And you know what? When he came in, I think he had a smile on his face!
I am a dog lover and make no secret of it. I am particularly fond of what I call "smash faced dogs". These would include pugs, boston terriers, English bulldogs, you know any dog that is lacking a snout. The flatter the face, the more I love them. I currently have 5 pugs - Samson, Sweetie, Jewels, Sherman and Tug - and was a pug breeder for many, many years. So, when I say I am a dog lover, I mean it.
Anyway ... at one point in our lives we had an English Bulldog name MAC, named for Michael, Andrew and Christopher. Now MAC wasn't the brightest bulb in the pack, but then if you know bulldogs, you know they aren't known for their keen intelligence. And I admit, MAC was just plain dumb, lovable, but dumb.
Now one of MAC's favorite activities was to go outside in the rain. Which is fine, except that MAC went out in the rain, sat down and looked straight up. Get the picture? A bulldog sitting in the rain, looking straight up, with rain pouring down his nose. And choking. Yep, he'd look straight up, rain would go in his nose and down his throat and he would choke. Did that stop him from looking up or sitting in the rain? Nope - he loved it!
So, one particular rainy day, I'd had a really bad day at work. I was a Sales Director at this time for The Longaberger Company and my numbers weren't exactly where I wanted them to be. My team wasn't doing what I thought they should, I'd had a day of really frustrating calls trying to get people to go out and book shows and sell and was generally in a fairly grumpy mood when I got home. When I got home, MAC wanted to go outside. Of course he did! It was raining!!
My backyard was fairly muddy, so I decided to let MAC out the front door, which he loved! He ran straight out to the end of the front sidewalk, sat down and put his face in the air. Rain went down his nose and throat and he began choking. (Don't worry, MAC doesn't die from this behavior, this is a happy story.) It's raining pretty hard, so I'm figuring this can't be good for very long, so I need to get him back inside.
I stand in the front door - I'm not going out in the rain after any bulldog - and call him, "Come here MAC, come here good boy!" He looks at me, which temporarily stops the rain from going down his throat, wiggles just a bit and looks right back up into the rain again. Brilliant right?
So, I resort to offering him an incentive (bribe). MAC loves treats, so I get a biscuit, show him the biscuit, call to him again "Come on MAC, come on boy, come and get your biscuit." He looks at me, considers the biscuit, wiggles his backside (bulldogs don't have tails) and looks right back up into the rain. AHHHH!
I need bigger ammo. So, I pull out the big gun - a hot dog! MAC loves hot dogs, surely this will do it! So, I go back to the front door, show him the hot dog, observe my neighbor across the way staring at the goings-on from her bedroom window and then proceed to lean over and wave the hot dog to lure MAC inside, "Come on MAC, come on boy, how about a nice hot dog?!" Now, he's interested! He actually stands up! He looks at me, looks at the hot dog, takes a big breath and sits right back down and looks up! And yes, starts choking.
Now it was during this last exchange that I have an epiphany. MAC was acting exactly the way my team was acting. It didn't matter what I put in front of them, how much I begged them, pleaded with them and incented them, they weren't going to take the action I wanted them to until it was their idea. MAC turned down his favorite people-food in the whole world because at that minute, sitting in the rain was what he wanted to do. It didn't matter what I wanted for him, it wasn't his idea to come inside, so he wasn't going to. He really didn't even care that he was choking, he wanted to sit in the rain and until he was done wanting to sit in the rain, he wasn't coming in.
The moral to this story? You can provide information, you can offer the most desirable reward but you can't motivate someone else. You can inspire them. You can do your best to lead them, but motivation comes from within. It's what Dave Longaberger called the "fire in the belly". If they don't want to move, they won't. If they don't want to be successful, they won't be. If they don't want to take the action that will stop something negative from happening, you can't do it for them. You may want it for them, but it won't make it happen.
I realized that day that I had lots of bulldogs in the rain on my team. You probably know lots of bulldogs in the rain as well. Don't give up on them. Keep reaching out to them - at some point it will be their idea and they will do what you hope they will. Keep looking for the inspiration that will work. And more importantly, ask yourself if you are someone else's bulldog in the rain! If you are waiting for someone else to motivate you, it's not going to happen. Only you can do that. In MAC's case? I went inside, just left the front door open. He came in pretty quickly when he could no longer see me standing there - it was no fun to be in the rain with nobody watching. And you know what? When he came in, I think he had a smile on his face!
A Different Kind of Cookie Monster
OK, so I'm talking on the phone this morning with Chris, my eldest son. He lives in WV, so our connection is a daily phone call, and today he was at the grocery. And yes, we talk everyday. Andrew, son #2 - not so much! It's fine, it's just the relationship that Chris and I have and it's a habit we've fallen into over the years as geography has been between us. Anyway, we're talking and there is a child screeching in the background. Now, Chris has no children yet, so I know it's not his, but this child is literally screeching at the top of his lungs. I'm thinking the mother is beating him. Chris assures me she is not. We shout our way through the conversation and the day goes on.
So, after our conversation, I go to the grocery here and I am keenly aware of all the small children who are unhappily accompanying parents. As I'm watching behavior and listening I think back to the time when my boys were with me. Now, I have 3 sons and as a single mom they were with me on trips to the grocery, errands, etc. There was no sense in paying a baby sitter for an hour or two. And I have to tell you if my kids acted the way some of these kids act today, they would have been punished and it wouldn't have happened a second time. Some mothers today seem to be oblivious to the behavior of their children! How does that work?
Now, I will tell you a story on Andrew (sorry buddy) and it involves a grocery trip. This particular trip occurred before Michael was born, so I only had Chris and Andy with me. Chris was walking beside the cart and Andy was in the "seat" - you know that awesome wire space that has the two cut out squares for their legs to fit through so they can strategically kick you the entire way around the aisles. But I digress. We were going up and down aisles, buying what was on the list, being penny-wise. When we got to the cookie/cracker aisle, Andrew requested (actually demanded) cookies. At this point in my life, I had a rule - not on the list, not in the cart.
So, we pause long enough for me to select crackers from the cracker side of the aisle and Andrew continues demandng cookies, getting louder with every request. I refuse again and again. Finally about three quarters of the way down the aisle as he is getting more and more obnoxious, I get right down in his little face and tell him "that's enough, don't ask again, no cookies!". He crosses his little arms across his chest, sticks out his bottom lip and begins to huff and puff - you've seen it, it's when that lower lip goes in and out with that slight sucking sound. I figure he's received the message and we're ready to move on.
Now Andrew is a clever child. A shrewd little boy who wasn't content when he didn't get his way. Hmm... he's still that way at age 30, soon to be 31. Anyway ... I am checking the list and I see him lean around me and look behind me, then look the other way down the aisle and back behind me. I watch as his eyes light up and he leans toward the shelf and the cookies he has been begging for. And as I hear another cart come close behind me, he shouts at the top of his lungs "Stop hitting me!" The person pushing the other cart scrambles around me, I am horrified and Andrew gets his cookies as we zip out of the aisle.
Two things - he won that round, but it never happened again I assure you. Not because I stopped taking him to the grocery, but because I had the good sense to discipline him. And no, I didn't beat him or even hit him for that matter. You see, I had a wooden spoon that put the fear of God into him and I only had to show it to him for unwanted behavior to cease. I never actually had to hit him with it.
The second thing? I have the joy of watching 2 of my sons now as men (my Michael was killed 3-1/2 years ago in an automobile crash) and they are well-behaved, mannerly gentlemen. People comment to this day on their manners - things like holding a door for a lady, addressing adults as sir or ma'm, using those almost non-existent words like please and thank you and excuse me when they sneeze or belch! These are the niceties that I miss and wonder where they've gone. Trust me, I know not all children are ill-behaved, there are many, many, many out there who are fabulous in public. I congratulate their parents. Yep - their parents. Manners don't come out of nowhere. Manners don't just happen. They have to be taught, observed and learned. So when you see bad behavior ... you can fill in the rest of this thought.
Being a mom is the greatest joy in the whole world It's also the toughest role you'll ever have to play. But know this, some of those really hard things you have to do - like say no, or take a loved video game away, or ground them - it will all pay off someday and you'll stand back and say "I did good." It may be painful today and make you weary, but one day you're going to be so proud you could bust! I know I am! Love you Christopher and Andrew (you too Michael).
So, after our conversation, I go to the grocery here and I am keenly aware of all the small children who are unhappily accompanying parents. As I'm watching behavior and listening I think back to the time when my boys were with me. Now, I have 3 sons and as a single mom they were with me on trips to the grocery, errands, etc. There was no sense in paying a baby sitter for an hour or two. And I have to tell you if my kids acted the way some of these kids act today, they would have been punished and it wouldn't have happened a second time. Some mothers today seem to be oblivious to the behavior of their children! How does that work?
Now, I will tell you a story on Andrew (sorry buddy) and it involves a grocery trip. This particular trip occurred before Michael was born, so I only had Chris and Andy with me. Chris was walking beside the cart and Andy was in the "seat" - you know that awesome wire space that has the two cut out squares for their legs to fit through so they can strategically kick you the entire way around the aisles. But I digress. We were going up and down aisles, buying what was on the list, being penny-wise. When we got to the cookie/cracker aisle, Andrew requested (actually demanded) cookies. At this point in my life, I had a rule - not on the list, not in the cart.
So, we pause long enough for me to select crackers from the cracker side of the aisle and Andrew continues demandng cookies, getting louder with every request. I refuse again and again. Finally about three quarters of the way down the aisle as he is getting more and more obnoxious, I get right down in his little face and tell him "that's enough, don't ask again, no cookies!". He crosses his little arms across his chest, sticks out his bottom lip and begins to huff and puff - you've seen it, it's when that lower lip goes in and out with that slight sucking sound. I figure he's received the message and we're ready to move on.
Now Andrew is a clever child. A shrewd little boy who wasn't content when he didn't get his way. Hmm... he's still that way at age 30, soon to be 31. Anyway ... I am checking the list and I see him lean around me and look behind me, then look the other way down the aisle and back behind me. I watch as his eyes light up and he leans toward the shelf and the cookies he has been begging for. And as I hear another cart come close behind me, he shouts at the top of his lungs "Stop hitting me!" The person pushing the other cart scrambles around me, I am horrified and Andrew gets his cookies as we zip out of the aisle.
Two things - he won that round, but it never happened again I assure you. Not because I stopped taking him to the grocery, but because I had the good sense to discipline him. And no, I didn't beat him or even hit him for that matter. You see, I had a wooden spoon that put the fear of God into him and I only had to show it to him for unwanted behavior to cease. I never actually had to hit him with it.
The second thing? I have the joy of watching 2 of my sons now as men (my Michael was killed 3-1/2 years ago in an automobile crash) and they are well-behaved, mannerly gentlemen. People comment to this day on their manners - things like holding a door for a lady, addressing adults as sir or ma'm, using those almost non-existent words like please and thank you and excuse me when they sneeze or belch! These are the niceties that I miss and wonder where they've gone. Trust me, I know not all children are ill-behaved, there are many, many, many out there who are fabulous in public. I congratulate their parents. Yep - their parents. Manners don't come out of nowhere. Manners don't just happen. They have to be taught, observed and learned. So when you see bad behavior ... you can fill in the rest of this thought.
Being a mom is the greatest joy in the whole world It's also the toughest role you'll ever have to play. But know this, some of those really hard things you have to do - like say no, or take a loved video game away, or ground them - it will all pay off someday and you'll stand back and say "I did good." It may be painful today and make you weary, but one day you're going to be so proud you could bust! I know I am! Love you Christopher and Andrew (you too Michael).
Taking the Leap
Talk about stepping outside a comfort zone! I find myself smiling as I begin this adventure. Here I am, the person who in my business world encourages thousands of people to take risks, step outside your comfort zone, try new things feeling uncomfortable simply because I don't have a clue what I'm doing! Guess I'll figure it out and learn from others as I go!
I'm actually starting this at the urging of a very dear friend. She seems to think that I have a unique perspective on things as a result of my life experiences and the way I view the world. I guess there's something to that. I don't personally think I'm all that different - sure I have purple hair, but your haircolor doesn't make you who you are. It certainly makes a statement about you, but it isn't who you are. (I'll talk about the decision to go purple in another entry.) I simply find myself wanting to share thoughts and perspectives with the hope that maybe someone will read one and it will have meaning for them. I don't pretend to be brilliant or to have all the answers. I would just love to make a difference in someone's life, even if I never know of that difference.
So, I'm going to give this blog thing a try! I figure, I love to talk and I love to write, so why not combine the two? I'll just talk to myself and write it as I do! I won't disturb anyone but my pugs - Samson, Sweetie, Jewels, Sherman and Tug - and they really don't give a rip! They'll just lift their heads, give me a dirty look for waking them, and go back to sleep! That's the life I want! Anyway ... thanks for reading. I hope you enjoy what you see. I'm going to have some fun doing this, hope you'll stay tuned!
I'm actually starting this at the urging of a very dear friend. She seems to think that I have a unique perspective on things as a result of my life experiences and the way I view the world. I guess there's something to that. I don't personally think I'm all that different - sure I have purple hair, but your haircolor doesn't make you who you are. It certainly makes a statement about you, but it isn't who you are. (I'll talk about the decision to go purple in another entry.) I simply find myself wanting to share thoughts and perspectives with the hope that maybe someone will read one and it will have meaning for them. I don't pretend to be brilliant or to have all the answers. I would just love to make a difference in someone's life, even if I never know of that difference.
So, I'm going to give this blog thing a try! I figure, I love to talk and I love to write, so why not combine the two? I'll just talk to myself and write it as I do! I won't disturb anyone but my pugs - Samson, Sweetie, Jewels, Sherman and Tug - and they really don't give a rip! They'll just lift their heads, give me a dirty look for waking them, and go back to sleep! That's the life I want! Anyway ... thanks for reading. I hope you enjoy what you see. I'm going to have some fun doing this, hope you'll stay tuned!
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