Memories

For me, there are certain memories of my life that stand out like the vibrant colors of a beautiful painting. Some of those memories are of experiences or feelings that I knew at the time that I wanted to keep with me for the rest of my life. The joy and wonder I felt on the birth of each of my children, the happiness that comes with healthy grandchildren, the pride I felt when when my daughters graduated from college and my son graduated from Marine boot camp are just a few examples of memories of "big events" in my life that I cherish and want to keep with me forever. Other memories imbedded themselves into my consciousness for other reasons. Memories of this type include little things: like the smell of the lye soap when my mother and grandmother washed clothes using a wringer-washer and a washtub set up in the kitchen of my grandmother's house, the feel of doing a perfect backflip, or the comfort of a dog sleeping on your feet. The importance of these memories, of the little things, kinda sneaks up on you. You may not know these things are important to you at the time you're experiencing them, but the memory of them becomes critical to you later on.

There are other situations that you know as you experience them that the situation will be "historic" to you and to others, and you deliberately take notice of what is happening, where you are, what you think, and how you feel. People of a certain generation can tell you just what they were doing and how they felt when they learned of President Kennedy's assignation, for example. For a more current example, ask anyone what they were doing on September 11th, 2001, and they can tell you where they were when they heard about the terrorist attacks, what they did when they heard, and the emotions the attack generated.

When I was a young girl we lived in Nevada. My dad was in the military and during the time we lived in Nevada, he went to Vietnam three different times for 6 months each time. I remember a time when he was home; not at work and not in Vietnam. I don't remember why he was home, if it was a weekend or a weekday, but he was there. We had a "TV room" where the family watched our favorite shows (I can honestly say we didn't have more than three channels, and might have had less). Anyway, I vividly recall coming down the hallway from the kitchen and seeing my dad on one knee, tuning in the TV picture (or sound...we had to do that in those days). He was wearing a white, short-sleeve t-shirt and his hair was short, cut in what was called a "flat-top." He looked up at me with a different expression on his face and said, "come here, sis" (he always called me sis). He said, "you need to watch this with me." Now, I don't know if it was my dad's expression, his demeanor, what he said, or if there was something that what was "in the air;" but even though I was just a young girl, I knew right away that this was one of those "historic" occasions that I would remember all my life.

So I sat with my dad and watched grainy, black and white pictures of men walking on the moon for the first time. I remember the darkened room (to see the TV picture better). I remember the warmth of the day (it was Nevada in July and we didn't have air conditioners). I remember that my dad smelled like Old Spice aftershave and he had tears in his eyes when Neil Armstrong took that historic step. I was amazed by the idea of those pictures coming all the way from the moon into our TV box. I was proud that America was the first country to put men on the moon. I was awed by the poetry of Neil Armstrong's announcement about small steps and giant leaps. Most of all I felt loved; because I was there with my dad, his arm was around me, and he wanted to share that special occasion with me.

That was 40 years ago today. A historic day, and a beautiful memory for a young girl to have shared with her dad.

Spring

I love Spring-time. I've been trying my best to be an optimistic person, and I find that it's easier to see the brighter-side of life when the sun is shining and flowers are blooming. Here in fly-over country, there are still overcast days, and days when the wind is bound and determined to blow every scrap of dirt and dust into the next county (along with assorted lawn chairs and garbage cans). But in-between the dreary days, the cold days, and the blustery days, there are the wonderful, bright, sunshiny days that give life to the beauty of this Earth.

I also love Spring for the promise it brings; of Summer-fun, fresh vegetables, and family reunions. Sunny Spring makes these things seem just that much closer. When it's sunny, warmer, and the flowers are blooming, it just seems that everything good in life is possible and (hopefully) within reach. So, I love Spring. I hope your Spring is full of sunshine, beautiful flowers, and optimism. Don't forget to "stop and smell the flowers" along the way. After all, life is too short not to live it and Spring doesn't last all that long; even in "flyover country."

Snap Judgments

FoxNews reports that Iranian President Ahmadinejad has, again, verbally attacked both Israel and the United States, this time (ironically) at a racism conference sponsored by the United Nations. Why doesn't this surprise me? I really didn't think that President Obama's attempt to reach out to the Iranians with a speech on their TV would really open dialog between the two countries; so I wasn't surprised when it's obvious that nothing will open the minds of the Iranian leaders. They've made up their minds; Israel and it's supporters (most notably the United States) are cruel, racist and evil; and need to be wiped off the face of the earth. They've made their judgment and it will stand; no matter what.

Ever know someone like that; someone who makes their mind and won't change it? Like the Iranian leaders, they tend to be scary. Now I'm not talking about someone who has principles and lives by them. I'm talking about someone who makes a snap judgment about a person, place or thing, based on limited or superficial information, and refuses to listen to "the other side of the story" or look beyond the surface.

I've found myself doing just that, making a judgment about a person based on how they looked, and I learned a huge lesson when I was proven wrong. I met a certain person at a workshop a couple of years ago. This person was (by far) not the most attractive person I've ever met and additionally had some very annoying verbal habits. I immediately found myself put off by this person, and at first wasn't willing to look past the person's homeliness or listen to this person's discussions. It wasn't until I forced myself to look at my own reaction to this person's surface characteristics and feel shame for it, that I was able to open up to this person and find out just what a wonderful, warm, and intelligent friend this person could be. This person's inputs made the workshop a success and I would have missed out if I hadn't been able to see that I was wrong for making a snap judgment based on purely surface characteristics.

I think that's why I like the video of British singer Susan Boyle. (See my post on Dreamin'.) Ms Boyle is certainly not the prototype for a young (she's 47 years old), svelte, "hip," singing-star. In fact, she's just about everything opposite. She's an unemployed woman "of certain age," who stayed home to care for her elderly mother, rather than pursue her dream of being a singing star. You can tell from the reactions of the judges and the crowd that they expected Ms Boyle to be something of a joke; purely based on her appearance and her mannerisms. Like I did, they made a snap judgment based on superficial things. Then she started singing and it was wonderful. Her voice is as beautiful as her appearance is not. I hope that Ms Boyle achieves her dream of being a singing star, she certainly has the talent for it. I also hope that Ms Boyle's success will teach us that difficult lesson: we should not make snap judgments based on superficial things. People are complicated beings and there's always more to them that what appears on the surface.

I don't think the Iranian leadership will ever open their minds and look at their judgment that Israel should not exist, and that her supporters are "racist." They are so firmly entrenched in their judgment that no amount of outreach and dialogue, by the US or any other country, will change their minds. I hope that President Obama and his foreign policy advisers realize this simple fact, that the Iranians are entrenched in their racist philosophy and flawed judgment, and I hope they realize it soon.

We're Jammin' Now!

Today I did something that I've always wanted to do, but had not taken the time to do....I made jam. Strawberry jam, to be specific. I even made two batches for a total of 8 two-cup jars. For some reason, it was a lot of fun! Not only am I excited about the final product, it was the "making" that was fun. Instead of following my usual pattern and trying to get the "thing" I was doing finished as quickly as possible; I made a choice to enjoy the process of building a jar (or 8 jars) of jam. By taking my time and enjoying the strawberry-mashing, the sugar-measuring, and the pot-stirring, the entire process was a blast and made me even more excited about my foray into jam-making. I think there's a life-lesson to be learned here. Sometimes it's the journey and not the destination that's important. Besides....I get to eat homemade jam on my toast tomorrow morning!

Even the Geese Know.....

I've been living in "flyover country" for about 4 1/2 months. I've always loved it here, and enjoyed visiting when I could. There's something about the mountains and the desert that touches my soul and fills my heart. Those who think that America consists of the bustle found in the cities in the East and the glamour of the "left coast," really miss the true beauty of America. America is a beautiful country, with a wealth of diverse landscapes that can please any one's eye and reach their soul. Those who believe that the essence of America is the sum total of the political scene, the fight for bailout money, or the scramble for power or fame have lost touch with what makes America strong. America is strong because of it's people; including those who live in "flyover country, who love this land, and who want to protect it and her people.

Happy Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is a time for, well, giving thanks. I know I have a lot to be thankful for. I have three beautiful kids, who are strong, intelligent, and responsible adults. I'm thankful that two of those kids have found wonderful people to join them in their journey down life's road, and I pray that my third child will soon be able to join her life to the person she loves. I am also so thankful for my three fantastic, healthy grandchildren, who are the joy of their parent's lives (and mine). I love my kids, their spouses, and my grandbabies will all my heart. I'm thankful that my mother and father are well and healthy, and that they love and support me (no matter what). I'm thankful for my extended family; my siblings, my aunts and uncles, my cousins, nieces and nephews. A large, relatively close, and loving family is very special.

I'm also thankful for wonderful friends; the kind that will lend your their ear or their house, whenever you need either. I'm thankful for finding love and for discovering happiness. I'm thankful for so much this Thanksgiving. I hope you are, too.

Fingerprints

I was looking at my walls this morning. It’s nearing that time when I should think about painting them. They have all the nicks and rubs that come with living in a home. They even have a collection of grubby little fingerprints in certain places (I did tell you that I have grandchildren). As I was trying to wash off some of the more obvious marks, I started thinking that, like walls of a lived-in home, our hearts accumulate various rubs, nicks, and fingerprints as we go about living our lives. (OK, I never said I was a profound thinker, just that I think.)

Living isn’t easy. We do the best we can to find our path through the challenging thickets that surround us. But sometimes, we take paths we shouldn’t have taken, and generally make a nuisance of ourselves. That doesn’t mean we’re bad people, it just means that we’re human. As we travel the pathways of our lives, some of the paths we take leave nicks and rubs on our hearts. Like the nicks and rubs on painted walls, some of these marks detract from the beauty that we carry inside of us. A wall desperately in need of painting does absolutely nothing to help create a comfortable home. On the other hand, sometimes the nicks and rubs add character and depth to our hearts. Someone who has never experienced challenges has never really lived. Just like a pristine, stainless steel and white modern décor will never, in my opinion, make a comfortable home; someone who’s heart doesn’t have a nick or two from facing the challenges that life throws at them, will never be really interesting. They have no depth.

But I have to say that it’s the fingerprints on our hearts that create the most depth. It is the people in our lives who leave those (often grubby) fingerprints on our hearts. There are fingerprints from everyone who has touched our hearts in some way. Whether it’s the warm touch of a loved-one; the reassuring touch of a parent; or the unconditionally loving touch of a child or grandchild, anyone who has touched our heart has left their fingerprints.

While we may need to repair, as best we can, the nicks and rubs on our hearts, we will never be able to fully wash off the fingerprints, even if we wanted to. Those fingerprints document a well-lived life; with all its mistakes and its joys. They document the people who matter to us. They document those that walked with us down the paths of life and helped us meet the challenges on those paths.

I know that the grubby little fingerprints on various parts of my walls detract from the appearance of my home, and I’ll wash them off (in interests of cleanliness….my kids did call me the “cleaning Nazi” after all). But I know that they were there because my grandkids felt comfortable in my home; to be kids and to play as kids will. So I’ll wash the walls and thank the Lord for the opportunity to do so. I’ll also thank the Lord for the fingerprints on my heart; from family, friends, and sometimes from strangers. I’ll thank Him for all the fingerprints from those people who have, somehow, somewhere, somewhen, touched my heart and helped me down the paths of my life.