Defining Love

Saturday night, I came across the post of Anderson Cooper announcing the birth of his second son, Sebastian.  I played the video of him explaining how he and his former partner and now best friend were parenting both sons and the children's surnames would both be Maisani-Cooper.  They are a family. He described how he felt the presence of his deceased mother, father and brother while raising toddler Wyatt Cooper with Ben.  He then read a quote from his father, Wyatt Cooper which made me weep.  

All of it made me weep. 

(Thank you to the man on Twitter who painstakingly captured the words on video in written form.) 

Here are Wyatt Cooper's amazingly loving and accurate words. 

"Life itself is brief. And yet each life encloses all eternity.  We are, all of us separately and together engaged on the same tough journey. Each of us taste its joys and sorrows.  Each of us gets by as best as we can. And we must whenever possible reach out to each other tentatively to touch with our hands, with our eyes, and with our hearts. We must wish for each other love and laughter, good thoughts and happy days.  We must go rejoicing in the blessings of this world. Chief of which is the mystery, the majesty, the magic that is life."

For some reason, ever since Anderson Cooper started writing and documenting his and his mother's life and their relationship journey, I was mesmerized.  First in the book, "The Rainbow Comes and Goes" and then in a documentary, "Nothing Left Unsaid."  Anderson has been through tremendous loss, and examined it and come through it looking for light and love. Gloria Vanderbilt led an astounding life trying to fill in the gaps for missing loved ones.  A dad that died when she was one and a mother who was not able to connect with her.   She and Anderson shared their grief over losing his dad, Wyatt, all too soon and then ten years later, his brother, Carter. They shared how their relationship worked and didn't work.  I love a family who speaks their truth and tries to work things out together.  Relationships are messy and there has to be open, honest and mature communication.  If you don't have that, it's really hard to make it work for both parties. 

I celebrate Anderson and his best friend choosing to raise a family together and it really resonates deeply for me.  Family can be who you make it to be.  It can be those who reach out and touch our hands, eyes and hearts.  I have tried to connect on a deeper level with family and it just hasn't worked.  It's devastating to come to that conclusion yet I have learned that God ( the Divine One, the Trinity, the Christ Consciousness or Universe) will bring people and situations into my life that will fill my longing for attachment and connection in a loving and kind way.  It will not look like what I expected but if I can let go, forgive and move on, my heart will be touched by love when I least expect it. 

Today, on Valentine's Day, a manufactured day with confusing origins, I will still celebrate LOVE. 

The kind of love that listens to my deepest concerns and I listen to theirs.  A love that is kind, responsive, mature and patient.  It's not perfect but it shows up.  That's my version of First Corinthians 13.  A veil is lifted and I only understand in part, but the part, the mystery that I see is so generous and overwhelming, I can't do anything but figure out how to lean into it again and again. 

I am so very thankful for the loves in my life.  The unit that I created: my husband and daughters,  friends who are soul sisters, family, and others who cross my path in all kinds of ways.  And of course,  the four legged sweethearts cannot be left out! 

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.

Letting Go Tom Cruise Take My Breath Away (for just a moment)

Oh, how I loved Top Gun.  I caught it on cable yesterday just in time for the volleyball scene.

Yes, that volleyball scene.

Lucky me!!

This is one of my favorite memories of movie watching in the 80's.  I don't remember who I was with or where I watched it but I so enjoyed watching these guys jump, dive and high five especially Slider.  (I had to IMDB him to see what he has been up to...) And is it a coincidence that my husband has a resemblance to Iceman...  Hmmm.  This scene  as well as Jake standing by the car in "Sixteen Candles," Morris Day and The Time singing The Bird in "Purple Rain" and way too many moments of "Bull Durham"are cemented in my brain from high school and college as pure happiness.

Yet in the last years, I have had a hard time watching anything with Tom Cruise in it that I loved before - and there were many.  Cocktail anyone?  It's amazing how even bad movies can be good when you are a teenager.    Tom disappointed me so with his rant against Brooke Shields and anti-depressants.  I was actually enraged.  As a person who really suffered with postpartum depression, his belief system and platform infuriated me. Yet I am beginning to mellow.    I almost changed the channel but then decided why not watch it.  I looked it up just now, it's been seven years since his rant on the Today Show.  And Tom still looks unhinged in the footage.

Watching "Top Gun" nearly thirty years later is amusing.  In hindsight, I can see that Tom was a little too cocky for me.  Some moments of dialogue make me want to cringe.  But how can you turn your back on some awesome Kenny Loggins' soundtracks?!  At my ripe age, Viper has even gotten more attractive.  How did that happen?

I think that for me to enjoy life to the fullest now,  I have to let go of everyone else having the same opinion as me or allowing myself to be close to someone with a different political or theological mindset.  I use to be so uncomfortable and off put when someone had a different opinion as me and now that is fading.  I was distressed  because I didn't feel like it was okay to have my own opinion much less OWN it fully.  Now that I am feeling more secure in my skin and self worth is rising, it is easier and easier to allow others to be themselves (AND more importantly for me to be me!)  It's a work in progress.

So now I can let Tom Cruise take my breath away for just a little while reveling in the 80's and it will all be o-kay.

Namaste.

Just Let Go

Yes, yes, yes!

No Words, Just A Firm Squeeze

My dad died two weeks ago.  His body had been failing him for quite a while.   The one kidney he had left stopped functioning years ago and then his weakened heart finally gave out during a procedure that was necessary to keep his body going.  That's the mechanics of the story.

The intimate part of the story is that he was my father.  A daughter looks to a dad to understand her meaning in the world.  The words that were floating in my head to describe him the morning after he died were quiet and sweet presence.  It took me 46 years to get to those words.   I then read the words my sister in law wrote which were more acutely accurate: "quiet, funny, sweet, sharp, dear and kind."  I forgot the sharp and funny.   And he was both of those.

I am funny and sharp when I allow myself to be.  Somewhere along the way I became too serious and forgot how healing laughter is.

I didn't have the kind of relationship I wanted with my dad.  I was never Daddy's little girl.  He was very quiet when it came to me.

I wanted more of him my whole life.

I longed for conversations with him about my life and things that I was interested in.  I longed to seem like I mattered in a way that I could recognize.   When I called my parents' home, he immediately handed the phone over to my mother.  This is normal for some people.  I think it was his generation as the provider and it was his personality.   He called me on the phone several years ago and it was the only time I ever remember him doing so and it was during a time that I was having a break of contact with my mom.  I had needed space to figure out who I was. Even though he questioned if I needed to be taken out of his will because I was not spending time with the family, I took advantage of the opportunity.  I put my heart on the line and said what I was never able to verbalize before to him.  I was vulnerable with a capital V.   (I displayed vulnerability as whole hearted people do even before I understood the concept - thank you Brene Brown!)  I said I missed him and had wanted to interact with him more growing up.  I needed his presence.  He replied that "he was who he was and was not going to change."

It was very painful to hear.

Thus began one of the biggest lessons of my life, and that is, to take people off pedestals that I place them on, of who I think they are and how I think they should be, and allow them to be who they are.  It can be a terrifically tough pill to swallow but is a necessary truth of life for me.  The journey began then to learn to give myself what I needed as a child and now as an adult.

So I grieved, a lot, over the next few years and there was much anger as well but over time slowly learned to accept who he was and what he had to give and accept who I am.  Anything I received from him at this point was bonus.  On the occasions we saw each other, and I leaned in for a goodbye hug, I noticed he squeezed me harder and held on longer than in the past.  This was his way.  No words, just a firm squeeze.

The day that he died, he never fully came out of anesthesia from his procedure.  He began moving his hands and his head though.  I watched the nurse, talk to him and ask him to squeeze her hand.  So after some movement, I walked over and took his hand and talked to him.  I told him who I was, that he was intubated and they were working to take the tube out.   I asked him to squeeze my hand. Could he squeeze my hand?  He did.  He also nodded his head a few times in response to questions.

He was a quiet man.

I learned to accept what he had to give.

My aha came that next day that I'm continuing to absorb.  As the family had gathered together in the hospital room after he died, we began talking about who he was in order to write the obituary.  He was an outdoorsman on all counts.  Everything revolved around farming, hunting, fishing, trees, etc. There was mention of his deceased sister.  I thought, wow, I really did get her genes.  She and I both moved away from the same small town, married doctors, were more liberal and loved the arts and creativity. I do love the outdoors but I am not inclined to want to trap or shoot what I find and cook it up.

My aha was that even though I never discussed life with my dad, I realized he taught me to be who I am,  no matter what the people around me think or expect.  Even if your daughter begs to get to know you better, you have to be who you are.

I have to be who I am.  It has taken a long time to realize that I can't be at peace with myself trying to be someone who I am not, trying to fit other people's molds or ideals.

I loved my dad and I know he loved me.

Namaste.

My First Red Carpet…

Recently, a good friend and I attended a Red Carpet Gala for a fabulously intimate downtown theatre.  What was the reason to make my introverted self buy a new outfit and get dressed up on a weeknight and drive downtown by myself?

Rick Springfield!

The last few years, I have been stepping out and doing all sorts of things I would normally not do.  I lived in fear. Before, I wouldn't have left the kids, I wouldn't have wanted to find a dress and deal with body image issues. I wouldn't have driven downtown. I would have worried about parking.  I would have worried if I was "good enough" to be there because I thought everyone else was "better" than me. All of those ideas are non-issues now, but they held me captive.  Those were the stories I told myself.



And this is what my soul journey is all about!  Letting go of what has held me captive.


Our night started out good, took an immediate downturn and then perked up, and ended spectacularly.  Before we even arrived to the venue, walking from the parking garage, I dropped my friend's phone and cracked the screen.  Not a good start.

I knew in that moment, I had to let it go because I wanted to enjoy the evening.  It was an accident.  After the shock, she had to let it go as well, it was her phone!  I offered to help pay for it, and she said she needed a glass of wine so off we went.  We started chatting with acquaintances.  It was still in the back of my mind but I pushed it back enough to let go and have a good time.  I had a small shame spiral the next day but it flowed through.

I knew a lot of people there and we enjoyed our pre-concert time.  There was a booth to take pictures with Rick cut outs and it was a raffle with the prize meeting Rick after the concert.








Guess who won?

In preparation for the concert, I dug out my one Rick Springfield Greatest Hits CD and checked out his autobiography called, "Late, Late At Night" and began reading and listening. His story was compelling.  I watched present day interviews when he became tearful talking about his life-long depression, suicide attempt and use of meditation, writing and the love of his family to survive.  This is my kind of rock star.  Tortured, vulnerable, talented and truthful.

I hadn't listened to any of his recent music since the 80's but started finding it on the web and was fascinated.  All day before the concert, I did my research.  I have to prepare before I go and refamiliarize myself with Rick and his current endeavors, including his newly releasing fiction book.
Up until yesterday, I still had two chapters left to read in his memoir and I put off finishing them.  I didn't want to say goodbye to Rick.  It was such a fun night of great music, dancing, and a thrilling chance to meet him.

I have now finished the book.  I have now written the blog.  And I can always reminisce about this great memory.  It will always be a great memory and the possibilities of what can happen when you step out of your comfort zone:  the good, the bad and the spectacular!

Doogie Howser and Forgiveness

On vacation, the family and I discovered the Hub cable channel. I delighted in the whole family sitting down and watching "Family Ties" which I had not seen in years. After the kids went to bed, "Doogie Howser" came on. I love Neil Patrick Harris in his current work. As the show came to a close, he typed his signature ending and I thought, wow, is that where the seeds of my blogging and self examination began.

A few weeks later, I flipped on Doogie again towards the end of the show just to see what he was typing. A son who works at the hospital was unable to forgive his father, who must have come in as a patient. The show ended without a reconciliation. Doogie typed out and I'm paraphrasing, he wished the son would forgive his dad not because the dad deserved it but because.... the son did.

Oh holy moments of clarity, just what I needed to hear from a sitcom! I was grappling with forgiveness myself. All of the stories that I hear it is not for the other person but for the "forgiver." Yet letting go of the anger is soooo difficult. Anger can become a very comfortable place to be, even if it keeps you mucked in the past. Moving to a different emotional territory and way of being is scary and extremely uncomfortable but I am plugging along. (And you know how much I don't like being uncomfortable.) After reading and doggedly keeping my mind on the topic, with the help of an online friend, I began to realize that the anger that would come over me, was actually me, "my soul" trying to tell myself not to be mad at the other person but to DO things a DIFFERENT way. Channel all of that anger into the next level of my true self. It takes lots of energy to change my way of being. I REALLY want to do that I had been beating myself up, telling myself I needed to forgive and I knew that I needed to accept but how? It took the aha moment to start thinking of things in a different way. Breaking it wide open and rewiring those synapses.
I'm letting that revelation just set for a while and funny I also haven't been angry either...
But like Doogie, I look forward to typing it out. I love learning from life. At this point any other option is unacceptable.