Dad And Trees and Speaking Up

Dad died three years ago today.  I wrote a piece right after dad died about how I wished I could have connected more with him.  I longed for personal interaction.  I don't remember any conversations or activities that we did together just the two of us.  It felt like a huge void in my life.  I was boy crazy from an early age.  I was that girl that had to have a boyfriend and as I look back, I wish I would have had more respect for myself.  I cringe but am learning to laugh when I watch a sitcom that makes fun of a young woman with "daddy issues." That was me. It is a thing.  I am aware of it now.

I am also aware that I tend to freeze in place and not act even when I know what to do. I don't speak up. I didn't have the confidence. I'm learning.

Months ago at a teenage values seminar at our church that broached sexuality, one of our youth pastors advised dads of girls: pay attention to your girls and hug them.  They need it and it reduces sexual promiscuity.

When George and I were dating, and we talked about having a family,  I remember telling him that if we had girls he had to pay attention to them, talk to them and do things with them.  I said it once and he has obliged my request since they were born.  I now can see (after George pointed it out!) that it came out as a forceful demand on my part.  I don't regret it.  I spoke up.  I am thrilled that the girls connect with him.  It is necessary and needed.

Yet it also brings up sadness as I type.  There will always be the little girl in me that needs her daddy's attention. It took me many years to accept Dad as he was and it wasn't an easy process. I was angry for a long while and then I grieved.  I grieved him before he died and eventually came to a place of acceptance.  I then could appreciate what he did give me.  I know that he loved me but he could not say it out loud.  I admit I have trouble with this myself.  It was much easier to express love with my children when they were younger than it is with grown people.  I have work to do, to practice vulnerability, to speak up.  It's new territory. Dad's form of love was to provide a roof over my head, clothe, feed and educate me.  Education was really important. And I'm grateful for that.  I really see that now.

Dad loved the outdoors.  I remember his very tanned arms.  On the other hand, I'm an A/C girl who likes to write and talk about thoughts and feelings and spirituality and go to yoga.  He was a gardener, hunter and fisher.   Years before he died, he built a cabin on family property that goes back several generations.  He built it for his family to use. He didn't talk about it or tell me, he just did it. Thanks to him, I'm a tree farmer and I enjoy walking with my brother and surveying the land. My kids love to ride the four-wheelers and get their feet wet in the creek and the girls love to kid me about my country roots, but I know they like it too.

My connection to him now is in land and trees.

And as I walk the dogs in my neighborhood on my street,  I found the most ironic display as a reminder.

Do you see it?

The tree is speaking to me.

Namaste.

She Was Enchanted

I have been trying to finish the 2009 Disney Scrapbook album for many years.

Yes, eight years to be exact.  We are leaving in a few short days to visit Disney World again.  Something spurred me on to make it a mission to finish this album.

In 2013, I made an earnest effort to finish and by that I mean, I pulled out all the materials and posted about it on Facebook.  My daughter came across this pic on FB two days ago and made fun of me.

That was four years ago.

But that attempt did get me as far as being completely organized and knowing exactly what pages were left.

I swore off ever doing another scrapbook years before that, but I had to finish this one.  I now make Shutterfly albums using digital photos and I have several of those under my belt and already on the shelf.

But the 2009 Disney Scrapbook remains.

This was a trip we took with my mother in law.  She is no longer with us.  When you first look at pictures of people who have departed, it's like a sucker punch.  Now, it's just a soft push.

GaGa loved "It's A Small World." She was enchanted by it.  When we went in 2012 a few months after she died,  I felt her on that ride and I teared up.  I was enchanted and enjoyed it and was grateful.

I was in the moment in that ride.

Do I not want to finish this album because it permanently finishes the trip?  Who knows?! I only had a few pages left.  Last night, I finished those pages. So it's done.  But yet, I keep tweaking and printing captions.  I need to put all of the remaining materials away and yet I procrastinate.

 I can feel some emotion stirring as I type this so I may be on to something.  I just know it's time to finish.  There will always be residual sadness.  GaGa died five years ago last month.  She loved my girls up close and personally.  She was at our house all the time.  She was with us.   

Letting go of a person who loved my children and I, whole-heartedly, well, it's hard to lose a person like that in your life.  

Sigh.

But it's time to finish.  She is still with me.  Her sense of fun.  She had much gratitude about simple things.  That stood out to me.  I carry that with me. 

She and Charlie (her husband) would always remark after we went somewhere for a meal or an event how nice it was.  Those remarks always stood out to me.  Now I can see it as a gratitude and living in the moment.  Gratitude is good.

I'm looking forward to Disney World.  There will be good moments and bad moments.  But I'm thrilled that the girls are looking forward to it. We have a countdown dry erase board for it. We are so excited to see our family spirit animal, Eeyore in person! An aside is that Riley is starting high school in a few months. How long will family vacations go on? Time is passing.  How DID that happen? 

I still see them this way.

 

Namaste. 

Hits and Misses

This morning as I eased my way out of bed in a fog and the darkness of the newish Daylight Savings time change, I looked down and noticed I missed stepping in cat hairball throw up by mere inches.

Hits and misses

In my best Debbie Reynolds' "Singing in the Rain" interpretation..."What a lovely morning!  Good morning, good morning, We've talked the whole night through, good morning, good morning to you!"

There is a significant chill in the air on this March morning in south Louisiana. One that I celebrate and adore before the heat and humidity begin kicking in all too soon.  I love that I have to put on George's long heavy robe to bring the dogs outside.  I take them in the darkened back yard as the sun is barely coming up on the front of the house. I had to turn the outside lights on to be able to see.  Annie has done her business on the right side of the yard and receives her expected treat.  I have been training Brinkley to go as well.  We are on the left side of the pool near a dark corner.  As I am straining to see whether his leg has been lifted,  I look up and notice the beautiful moon shedding a faint light in the darkened sky.  It took a few seconds to orient that it was the moon!!

I check his leg and I gaze up again at the moon, trying to experience it's magnificence and I'm startled by the sight and the sounds of by a flock of birds flying in formation which the view of, had been previously blocked by our shade tree.  Breathtaking!  I look down again and there's dog poop on the patio.

Hits and misses

This is life.

There is unexpected beauty while dodging dog poop.  I may not be awake enough to catch it every time but when I am, it's always a thrill like it's never happened before.

Do you know what I'm saying?

Some days, I have no energy from running here and there or in place with whatever is necessary in mine and my family's life.  My mood is low and I feel I'm not enough.  I used to be scared of these kinds of days. I have now become accustomed to the fact that those feelings will flow and my energy will return and my mood will rise.  And sometimes, the next day I will wake up more rested and ready to spot the light of the moon and hear the unexpected honk of the birds in flight and marvel and miss the dog poop and celebrate.

Namaste.

For Good

Mallory and I started watching Broadway at the White House, did I tape this?  How did it get on the DVR?  But it was there.  I must watch it.  I was just there at the White House.

I love theater.

And then this happened.

I love this song.

Compassion, Love and Forgiveness.

I always think of my mother in law when I listen to this song.  I went into the ugly cry.  Mallory patted me and said it was okay.

It's okay to cry and it's okay to miss someone and remember how they changed your life.

Haircuts and Life Lessons

A while back during a school break,  I scrambled to get the girls' hair appointments on a Saturday, as it was long overdue.  Salon appointments are still new to us as we have frequented kid haircutting places and we haven't settled on a regular place yet.  It still seems like a big deal  (to me!) to have a real shampoo, cut AND blow-dry.  As I sat and watched them have their first haircut since August, I had a verklempt moment.  This is not going to happen forever.  Having both girls getting their haircut together and in this moment they are not arguing.  Woo Hoo.

Winning.

And even mores that we are in the same place doing the same activity.  Riley will be getting her license in a few short years.  They are growing up.  I now drive and drop her off without getting out the car.  Plans are made with her friends by texting and parents are just informed of where, when and how much money.

I see other friend's children growing up right before my eyes.  Attending dances with dates, driver's licenses, high school graduations, and dropping them off at college.

It seems to be happening faster and faster.

After Riley's hour and a half cut which is about and hour and fifteen minutes longer than a trim at the kid's place, she was in a state of shock.  They had cut at least 7 inches off.  The stylist was very thorough with Riley's thick long hair.  We then chatted about how important it was to communicate with the stylist and that was lost as it was Riley's hair but she wanted me to do the communicating.

Unhappy feelings ensued.  Riley was none too pleased and expressed that fully.  And the next morning as we drove to church, I heard again from both girls that too much of their hair had been cut off.

This is life.

A picture perfect moment and exquisite thankfulness followed by much turmoil and not so much thankfulness. Life runs the whole spectrum of emotions.  I'm learning to ride the ride of all the emotions, and know they won't harm me.

This is the stuff that life is made of.  I have a very hard time just sitting with other people's disappointment, frustration, anger and over time, I have learned not to take it personally.  Sometimes, they just need to vent. AND I don't have to solve the problem either.  People just need to be heard.

This is a huge factor in life.  People want connection and to be heard.  And sometimes I do it better than others but I try to listen to my loved ones.

I'm learning.

(And they did end up liking their hair, it took a few days to set in... and we have learned the golden rule of really communicating with a stylist.)

Washing Dishes??

I enjoyed washing the dishes last night.

And the night before.

What has happened to me???   I have HATED washing dishes from the first time I was asked in the late 70's or early 80's.  Most nights, I will leave items in the sink that I can't put in the dishwasher until the next morning. I don't want to deal with it.

I find I never completely finish the project of cleaning the kitchen.  And my husband will attest to that. There are many activities that I don't finish but that is a topic for another day.

But for the last two nights, I noticed it was actually a calming activity.  (Could it be related to the fact that my youngest daughter had major meltdowns during homework on these 2 nights as well?!)  Time will tell.

I was alone in the kitchen, no distractions and I just focused on washing, and rinsing and stacking to dry. It was such a peaceful process.  I took time with each item until I was done.

I remember Oprah talking to Eckhart Tolle about being in the moment and that is just being with whatever you are doing, in that moment. They discussed walking up stairs and while doing so having no other thoughts about anything else.  It takes practice to do this.  No phone, no worrying about the future, no worrying about the present, no frustrations about the past.  Just thinking about each step as you climb.

This mindfulness "stuff" can really change your life.  I had gratitude for washing dishes.

Holy crap. : )

Namaste

It Can't Always Be the Same: Rocking the Light AND the Dark and Birthday #46

Lauren & Mallory 2006

Feeling a little verklempt this morning and I'm learning to embrace these melancholy moments because life (the spiritual journey it is!)  is embracing the light and the dark.  You cannot have one without the other.   The dark has frightened me for years and I fought it off to no avail.  I'm learning to embrace my once sworn enemy and welcome it with curiosity and kindness.  This is no easy feat yet the dark makes the light, oh so much sweeter.

I walked the dogs in quiet this morning and in atypical fashion for late July in Louisiana, it was a cool morning.  There are several things on my mind this morning.  I saw that the moving truck that was packed yesterday with my neighbor Lauren's belongings was indeed gone.  She is headed to New Orleans for nursing school.  She babysat for me for the last 9 years!!  I was pregnant with Mallory when we moved into this house in 2005.  Lauren started off as a mother's helper and ended up driving my kids around, the ultimate in a mother's trust.  Lauren is going to rock nursing school! Look out New Orleans.

Katie and Riley 2005 - Ballon Festival

My niece, Katie, will be induced tomorrow to have her first baby.  She was one of Riley's first babysitters.  She was in the room when Riley was born.  It doesn't get much closer than that.  But there is always dark and light.  As in many families, things happen and we don't get along for a spell. Katie and I have moved through that and are on the other side.  I can't wait to meet Baby Boston.  Entering motherhood is an awesome and life changing event.  For me, it was the beginning stirrings of my consciousness journey.  Your children can evolve you like no other. (Thank you Dr. Shefali Tsabary!)  Katie will rock motherhood and be oh so fashionable while doing so!

My kids are starting back to school next week.  Riley will be entering sixth grade and Mallory, the third grade.  I dropped Riley off for her back to school party last night.  She had a purse with money and a phone in her possession!  My stomach turned as she ran off and I drove away.  Middle School.  I am learning to let Riley be who she is and navigate the highs and lows of the brutal middle years.  This is no easy task.    I have to let my own insecurities not be pushed as I'm privileged to listen to hers.  Thank you social media for adding to the drama.  Middle School and puberty were easy enough to navigate before.  Yet...Riley is going to rock Sixth Grade!

On my walk, it hit me that my forty-sixth birthday is in two days.  Birthdays can be like middle school for me, quite the booger.  In the past, reality never met my expectations and I had to learn to adjust.  (I do love birthdays on FB though - it's the bomb!)  I have learned to lower the expectations, take the day in my own hands and plan it myself.  You can't wait around for other people to do what you want to have done in your own life.  I was so caught in the muck of fear that I could not even think of alternatives much less act on them in the first half of my life.

Yet that change and adjustment in my expectation of birthdays (and life!)  has lead to gratitude for the little things:
Like a crisp morning in July! Peace and quiet and birds singing on a dog walk.  The girls sleeping in so I can write.  Annie curled up next to me snoring and making me smile.

I don't have delight every day in these things and that is okay too.  Sometimes I want to cry during my morning dog walk.  That is part of life too.  Embracing that "dark" that comes and being curious about it is making all the difference in my life.

Today, I'm especially thankful for people who have come in my life, and become such a special part of it either by birth or by luck.  I love you guys!  I'm so happy for your new adventures.

I'm grateful that life changes and evolves and I am learning to embrace it instead of being scared by it.

Namaste.

Katie and I on Christmas Day 1984

Settle Into Your Bones

May today there be peace within. May you trust that you are exactly where you are meant to be. May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith in yourself and others. May you use the gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you. May you be content with yourself just the way you are. Let this knowledge settle into your bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise and love. It is there for each and every one of us.
~Mother Teresa

Beautiful quote! I so love the part about contentedness with yourself and the knowledge "settling" into your bones. That is what I have felt very much in the last months and I have worked really hard to get there. It could also be described as being comfortable in my skin. Whatever description you use, I feel it now. There is so much yin and yang going on for us now. It's the Christmas season and the family gathered together and we put on the Christmas music and decorated our tree and also outside with our "Griswaldish" lawn ornaments. And I'm patiently waiting to hear if my leg is now free of melanoma cells.

Last night, George and I visit GaGa at the nursing home before heading to the festive Ochsner Holiday Party. She asks what year she is born and we reply 1932. She asks what year it is now. Upon learning that she is 79, she says that's too long. She is in pain, can't use her words, can't dial a phone or change a tv channel and told us she is ready to die. The tears fell down her cheeks and when I hugged her goodbye, some fell on my new blouse. She loved my new blouse and was worried about the stain.

I am in the sandwich generation. I see the agony of illness and age and it is contrasted with the energy and celebration of youth. I have come to embrace both. It's not easy but now I know how much to appreciate my children's enthusiasm and energy. I have always been thankful for the miracle of their presence in my life as it did not come easy. But now watching someone fade away, my appreciation is even deeper.