Goodbye, Old Friend

Written soon after he died nearly five years ago...shared now because we miss him...

And with a final wag, we bid goodbye to our precious Buster Brown, our first family pooch of nearly 16 years.

I am reminded of the story told through Marley and Me. The author, being a journalist, chronicled his dog's life through a column he wrote for the newspaper.

A dog's life.

Many live fewer years than our sweet dog. We were blessed. We know that and accept that gift with a huge amount of gratitude.

Often, after the loss of a pet, my husband expresses his sadness by saying he doesn't want any more pets...he wished he didn't have to feel such pain. But I always counter him with the fact that if we didn't have the pet we wouldn't have had the joy they brought.

Yes, it's hard. VERY hard. Sometimes it feels as if our hearts might break. But it's also beautiful.

A sweet friend reminded me that Buster lived "a long, loved life."

And he did. Always smiling. Always happy. Always grateful. (He wouldn't start eating without us patting him and saying, "You're welcome!")

I like to remember him that way.

Loved for a long time.

Saturday Sweethearts

Ethan with Jazzy and Jujubee (2019)

Hold my paw.

I don’t know if I can.

Why not?

I don’t feel brave enough.

 

You’re braver than you think.

 

I wish you didn’t have to go.

 

I need to go. I have bigger places – and God – to see.

 

I wish I’d done more for you.

 

You did your best.

 

But it wasn’t enough. I hope you haven’t suffered.

 

Hold my paw...

 

I hope you know I love you.

 

I’ve never doubted that.

 

I won’t ever forget you.

 

Memories fade…but we’ll see one another again. Me and all the others. And won’t that be glorious? Oh, so glorious...

....

 

Hop far, sweet bunny. And always remember I loved you. 

Rest peacefully, precious Jezzy. Kiss Jujubee for us.

 

….

 

The night is long…but the days are, oh, so short.

 

….

 

 

In Times Like These...

I love words. 

I love the way they fall together to create sentences, forming stories or poems or songs. I love to hear the jingle of the letters’ sounds together – sometimes making onomatopoeia. I loved teaching my children how to read and process the sounds together to make words. I loved sharing my favorite words with them: saunter, facetious, whimsical.

But words don’t define me. I am not a collection of static letters or sounds. That’s when words lose their meaning.

I am a living, breathing, ever-changing human. I am not what people call me, either in race or religion or creed. My beliefs are my own, not formed by a stereotype or what I am told they are or should be. They are mine. And the basic core of my soul stays the same, but my thoughts are fluid as I observe and grow and process all that is around me.

When we allow our televisions and newspapers and online sources to tell us what to believe about who we are and what we are, it’s time to UNPLUG. When we listen and believe only what we are told, we have given up the power of words. We have allowed fear to own us.

So many people are complaining about the violence we hear and read about…constantly…the “ugliness” that is our world. I didn’t see it personally. I only read about it. What if it wasn’t as bad as described? What if “catastrophic” was an exaggeration of the events…made to cause fear and panic and anxiety in me? Catastrophic has always existed…and recent events are nothing new. And, yet, losing one person is always tragic to me. Losing three…even more so. Those people have their own people, who knew and loved and cherished them. And now they are without them. That makes me incredibly sad.

But fearful?

Instead of concentrating on what’s happening and being afraid, what if we looked around us at the world we can actually see? Look at the multitudes of flowers all around us, full of color and blooming in the final weeks of summertime. Listen to the giggles we hear from children running on a playground, enjoying their freedom and the innocence of just being. Watch a family or group of friends laugh, enjoying a dinner together.

Why can’t we grab hold of these truths? 

They are RIGHT. IN. FRONT. OF. OUR. EYES. 

They are real and happening right now. 

Why can’t we let go of what the media wants us to hear, to believe, to own. Realize that we may not have “gotten our way” in the election, but then neither did half the country in the last two elections…and we all made it through just fine. What if we accept what is and have faith that goodness exists and that we’ll all be okay…goodness is in children, in furry animals, in chocolate, in a drive through farmland, in a walk through a city, in the rising and setting of the sun. What if we believed in the good of mankind again – in those we know and see and love around us? What if we “agree to disagree” and go back to making cookies for each other or sharing ice cream cones or game nights or movies together? What if we ONLY try to make the small sphere we live in a better place for our children to live and grow up in, refuse to do anything else or read anything else or fear anymore?

What else can we do? Really?

For better or worse, this is the world we live in. We only see and feel and hear a small sphere of it, a mere sliver of all that is out there. Why not concentrate on that for a change, count our blessings and realize that, yes, we are sinful, but through God’s mercy, we are good? We are safe. We are alive. And we are free.

Then our words will be meaningful again. Because their power will be ours – not the media’s or government’s. Just ours.

It starts with a simple phrase: I love you, my friend. Not because we are the same, but because we are different.

I am NOT "white" or "conservative" or "hateful" or "mean." I am just Susie.

A Mother's Pain

My heart hurts. It hurts with a pain that only a mother can feel when her heart breaks for her children.

I write this in the moment to release the feelings that have been building -- literally -- for years. I know in this moment of pain that a moment of joy is nearby -- God is good ALL the time -- and so I write this now, while I am feeling what I am feeling.

It's odd, knowing what your own mother may have felt for you at some point in her mothering journey. Being able to identify is what links us as humans, as family.

I have yet to understand what makes some people "friend magnets," while others are stuck watching from outside, noses pressed against the window panes.

......

That moment that your daughter looks at you and says, "If I were beautiful, people would want to be friends with me."

There is no answer to this. I think she is already beautiful. Her father thinks she is already beautiful. Her brothers think she is already beautiful, as do her grandparents and aunts and uncles and many, many adult friends.

And, lest you think this is a self-pity plea of support, it is not...it is exactly what is happening in the life of a young girl, spreading her wings and trying desperately to fly among her peers, hoping to find a -- even just one -- friend to glide above the treetops with.

How do you answer this? What do you say?

God made you absolutely perfectly, sweet girl. You are absolutely loved and cherished.

But not necessarily by anyone your own age. And I don't understand why either.

This isn't a story of friendships lost in silly tiffs. This isn't a girl who hasn't been kind (though she isn't perfect and probably has had her moments of unkindness, conscious and unconscious).

This is a case of a girl, desperate for friendship, who finds that no one really wants to be with her. Or, when they do, it's only if nothing better is happening.

Many would claim it's because we chose to school her at home. I'd agree, if I hadn't experienced the same issues when I attended public school in a brick-and-mortar school. Or if we hadn't paid lots of money having her participate in a homeschool group in order for her to have "socialization."

But, as it turns out, this homeschool group did nothing but begin this process of "learning" about life and the erosion of her self-esteem.

Girls who excluded and verbally bullied her, asking her if she was special ed or autistic. Scoffing at her when she sat with them at "their" table. She moved to the boys' table...and eventually experienced the same thing when they suddenly reached the age of wanting to "be cool." She tried the girls' table again...and finally chose to sit alone. Where was the teacher in all of this? Oblivious. Or, worse, criticizing her artwork and telling her she couldn't draw, so why bother. In third grade. When she was 8 years old. She'd tell me what was happening, and I'd try to encourage her. I'd tell her she needed to try to "toughen up" (isn't that what the old experts say?). Don't wear her heart on her sleeve. Any number of clichéd platitudes. I'd speak to the teachers, who would still be oblivious and say she was fine, doing well. Did they see her pain? Did they see her loneliness? All the while, my heart broke for her. Finally, we stopped going.

Then came Sunday School and youth group. Church should be the place of refuge. A place where she should have found some comfort and love from fellow students. (Of course, it is full of sinners. We're all sinful.) She fled from Sunday School one time when she went to sit down at a table of girls, and they all moved around so there was no room. No one -- not even her teachers -- wondered where she went. Then another time she went to sit on the big beanbags only to have the others race ahead and make sure every one of the them was filled. No room for you, sweet girl. We talked to the youth pastor, asked him what we could do. He said to toughen up. Kids'll be kids. We talked to her teachers, but they were oblivious. We eventually moved churches after we began to experience the same treatment as adults.

It turns out that youth group is only for the popular. If you're not popular, you mean nothing so don't bother coming. And, B-T-Dubs, we won't miss you. (Popularity has no place in the church. Ever.) Not even serious health issues made anyone rally around her. She was talked over. Kids walked away when she was mid-sentence. Someone even said to her, "They only do that because you're not very interesting." We talked to the youth pastor, asked him what we could do, how we could change this -- expressed how sad she felt at youth group. He told us that sometimes you have a group of friends you're comfortable with. You don't really want any new friends. So look for others who don't have that yet. Or translated: Toughen up. Youth group, in his mind, is for the unsaved. The group is constantly changing, so he wants to draw the ones in who don't know Jesus. You others? Do you want love and support and prayers? Too bad.

Dance class.

Glasses made everything change for her. She could see again....but she could see the backs of the girls who wanted nothing to do with her. We got her contacts. Nothing changed. Even the teachers didn't like her. I sat outside a classroom one time. All I heard was the teacher yelling her name. Over and over. She tried out for company three times. She never got accepted. They didn't want her. Toughen up, everyone said. You have to toughen up if you want to make it in life.

She started an online group for cyber schoolers, trying to give them friendships in the forum they all felt most comfortable: online. She seemed to make some nice friends. Then one guy joined and decided he wanted to control the group. Like putting poison in a well, he killed the group. The things he and another girl wrote to her -- witnessed by Stuart and me -- were wrong. These kids were lauded by others in the group, even the ones who initially felt on her "side." They were blocked from the group, but the damage was done. The group unraveled and friendships changed. Sometimes it's hard to know exactly what is meant in typed words since there is plenty of reading between the lines...but there was not doubt with this.

At school, she started an online newspaper in March. She organized it all and ran it all. By the time she resigned as editor-in-chief, she had 115 members and 8 advisors. She left in November after a 45-minute phone call from a school board member, chastising her for forgetting her story (well past the point of publishing even before the newspaper started) in the previous issues. This board member saw it as racist and exclusive. It was apparently unacceptable. It was impossible to understand why this woman's knickers were in such a twist, but she managed to get the other school staff members on her side, changing the intension of the newspaper as a means for students to write and get their news out into a pet project for her. Ridiculous.

.......

It's hard when you march the beat of a different drum. It's hard to feel like the "ugly duckling," being different from the rest. You desperately want to find someone, anyone who is like you. Like Anne of Green Gables, you just wants a bosom buddy, someone who will be there.

Don't tell me your child has been there if your child has had at least one good friend in her life. Our daughter has not. While visiting her, her friends have texted with other friends or boyfriends, talked over her, invited other friends to join the visit, phoned other friends, or changed their plans because something better has come up.

Stuart won tickets to a local baseball game this summer. We thought it might be fun for her to ask some of her friends to go. She asked them about a month ahead of time. Not ONE responded. A week before the game she asked if they could go...they each casually told her it wouldn't work. She was crestfallen. If she'd known earlier, she could have asked others. In the end, the tickets went unused.

As a mom, I wish that I could fix this for her. I wish that I could understand. I tell her how proud we are of her...how much we think she's beautiful. But, while I know that she accepts this and loves us back, it isn't the same as someone her own age showing her the same feelings through friendship.

So my heart hurts.

But only for a little while.

Psalm 46^[a]

 

For the director of music. Of the Sons of Korah. According to alamoth.^[b] A song.

 

¹ God is our refuge and strength,
    an ever-present help in trouble.
² Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way
    and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea,
³ though its waters roar and foam
    and the mountains quake with their surging.^[c]

⁴ There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,
    the holy place where the Most High dwells.
⁵ God is within her, she will not fall;
    God will help her at break of day.
⁶ Nations are in uproar, kingdoms fall;
    he lifts his voice, the earth melts.

⁷ The Lord Almighty is with us;
    the God of Jacob is our fortress.

⁸ Come and see what the Lord has done,
    the desolations he has brought on the earth.
⁹ He makes wars cease
    to the ends of the earth.
He breaks the bow and shatters the spear;
    he burns the shields^[d] with fire.
¹⁰ He says, “Be still, and know that I am God;
    I will be exalted among the nations,
    I will be exalted in the earth.”

¹¹ The Lord Almighty is with us;
    the God of Jacob is our fortress.

Friday...

In memory of those who died in the name of Freedom of Expression:

Worded Wednesday

The hardest part of loving pets into old age is having to say goodbye. 

Rest in peace, our sweet bunny Tony (L).

Click here to read about when we got them.

Do You Know Me?

I found this in my drafts and thought I'd publish it. It was written right after the boy committed suicide in January.

====================================

I've been pondering...a-thinking...musing...wondering on some things recently.

A young man in our area decided that his life was worthless...and ended it last Saturday. It's heartbreaking all around -- for his family, for his friends, and, most especially, for him. That a young person, only 16 years old, could feel that hopeless.  According to his friends, he was a handsome guy, charismatic and full of fun. According to his obituary, his passion was pottery. I haven't read anything official in the newspaper about why he chose to end his life, but I'm sure the reasons will come out before too long.

How many people knew him well?  Did he know that? Did he feel special and valued and really known? How many people knew his "passion was pottery"?

Sometimes it's easy, in our busyness, to miss really knowing people. We see them; we interact briefly with them; and we judge them. But do we really know them? Personally? Do we know their strengths and weaknesses? Do we know their likes and dislikes, what makes them giddy with pleasure or cry in anguish? Do we know their passions?

I hate to see a young person die. It goes against all human logic. People are born, grow up, and die in old age.  I know that's not always God's way. But it is how, in our humanness, we think.

So this brings me back to my ponderings...

Why does it take a death for us to really know someone? Why after they die do they suddenly become so much more important?

I've seen my daughter come home from her youth group functions, sad and frustrated. She wishes people would know her better, like her better, actually listen to her better.

She said she starts to talk to people and they walk away mid-sentence. She has become quiet and withdrawn. No one knows her very well. She is an average Christian girl from a Christian home who does her schooling at home.

Does anyone there know her passions? What makes her tick?  Does anyone there know that she danced for over 10 years? Does anyone know that she made it into the National Honor Society and loves to learn? Does anyone there know that she writes for "Voices" and has a keen desire to do public relations and missionary work when she grows up? Does anyone know that she loves fashion design and started her own fashion design company when she was only 9?

Does anyone care?

I know how she feels. I used to feel afraid that it would take dying for people to actually get to know me.

Why is that?

She has a "small group" leader at youth group. But she just complains that Emily doesn't come to everything. Does she know and understand that financially we can't afford to come to the church every time the doors open? Does she understand that we have other obligations, including work and two other children, that also take our time? Does she know that we value family time much more than organized activity time?

Does she care?

Probably not.

She doesn't even really know our names. And, every now and again, Emily is a blip on her radar.

It makes me sad.

It shouldn't take a tragedy to rally people around another person to celebrate who they were. We should all be doing that now.

Friend or Foe...or Somewhere in Between - Part 3

"Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver and the other gold."

We used to sing that when I was a little girl in the Brownies. We would sit in a circle and cross our arms to hold hands with the girls next to us. My mom was one of the leaders, volunteering in the hopes that I would make friends and enjoy Girl Scouts as much as my sisters did. I didn't. And I didn't.

Not because I didn't try. I think it just wasn't meant to be. We moved soon afterwards.

The problem with the above song is that not all "old friends" want to remain friends. People today are temporal. We want to be friends with those who are tangible...right there in our sight.

We've moved from two different churches over the past few decades. We spent 18 years at the one and 12 at the next...and in both cases the people we thought were our close friends dropped us, forgetting us like we never existed.

It's not that they were trying to be mean. We just weren't there anymore. So, out of sight, out of mind...and heart.

It makes a person a little heartsick to think that we meant that much to them.

And it's interesting, given the amount of free social media options out there, that our friendships couldn't keep going. We have email, Facebook, Twitter, Skype, Yahoo! Instant Messenger...etc.

But it takes work to stay in touch. Not everyone has that strength or the stamina. And sometimes we're so busy with our own lives that we forget. (I'm just as guilty as the next person for that.)

Where's that leave me and my little Brownie song?

Pretty much singing alone with my arms crossed and no one's hands to hold.

Maybe it's time to get off the social apps and start again...in person? Find new friends, who like me, need a little silver.

Maybe it will be a silver lining in the clouds.

But how does one go about finding new friends as an adult?  Any ideas or suggestions?

To be continued...

Freedom of What?

The thing about freedom of speech is that it has to go both ways. You cannot tell one side to agree...or shut-up. Sort of goes contrary to the whole meaning of freedom, right?

So I don't agree with the lifestyle choice of the lesbian and homosexual community. (Earth-shattering, I know.)  I don't appreciate them trying to redefine marriage, and I most especially despise their perception of my opinion as being "hateful" to them.

I disagree, but that does NOT mean I hate them.

We've gotten away from the concept of separating beliefs from the actual person.  I use the Bible as the basis for my values and beliefs. I may say that in public or in private to friends or acquaintances. But I never shove it down their throats. That's part of the freedom. To choose to believe or not to believe.

When people (especially those of public-figure stature) actually tweet about their desire for people who eat at certain restaurants (owned by people who support my view of traditional marriage) to get cancer and die....

WOW!

Really?!?

And what's even sadder is that that's okay for them. If someone from the other side says that? It's considered a threat and horrific (which it is from either side).

Hmm...

Civilization can only exist where its citizens respect and honor each other -- on both sides of any subject.

It's agreeing to disagree...and loving each other despite the differences.  Since when did we become such an intolerant people?

It's a freedom to say something and a freedom to listen. In the case of stuff I don't agree with, I just choose not to listen. But the difference is I never tweet about it...or wish ill on someone who believes the opposite of me.

Sigh.

As another blogger noted: Choosing to boycott a fastfood restaurant chain because you don't agree with the owner's opinions and beliefs...such a first world problem.

How indulged are we?

Plenty of companies openly support the lesbian and homosexual communities.  You don't hear the rest of us calling on the fires of Hell to destroy them, right?

Know that even if you support those causes -- or any others I might not agree with -- I still love you. And because of that, I can agree to disagree with you.  That's TRUE freedom of speech.

Friend or Foe...or Somewhere in Between - Part 2

So I started on this subject a few weeks ago in this post.

Friendship has always lent itself to some pretty deep pondering...about oneself and about others...at least in my life. Sometimes it's hard to figure out why some people have so many and others seem to have none.

We have mixed feelings about the telephone in our house.

Sometimes we are excited by its ring...and sometimes we are angered...and sometimes it doesn't ring at all.

We love for the phone to ring when its someone we love -- or, for me, when it's a source I've been trying to get in touch with for an article.

We're mad when it's telephone solicitation...or a campaign call...or a wrong number with someone asking for the same people...again.

It's a bit perplexing at times when it's silent, and we realize that the phone doesn't ring for us very often.

My mom has been encouraging us to get to know people and make new friends. She gets very worried about the kids seeming to not have any friends. She doesn't see the effort I've put into helping them find some and how that effort falls flat. If it happens enough times, people finally give up.  I mean, why is the onus always on us to make friends? Why aren't other kids seeking out our kids for playdates?

Phone numbers are exchanged, but no one calls -- on either side.

Sometimes we're told it would be different if our kids went to school.

Hmm... I agree that they would be exposed to more kids, thereby the possibility for friendship goes up, but that doesn't guarantee friends. It seems that people need to be "desirable" to draw friends. I'm guessing we're not.

The kids go to activities -- at church and in our community. We ask the parents/kids to meet up. We get lots of smiles and lots of "sounds great"s. But still the phone never rings...the emails never come, even in response to our calls/emails.

But it's a different world these days -- a world filled with activities of all sorts and electronics of even more sorts. People are busy, busy, busy.  Kids don't play outside anymore.

At least not where we live.

We know. We've "trolled" the neighborhood, looking for someone to meet and get to know and play with. And when kids do play outside, they're not interested in meeting new kids to add to their group of peers. 

No one encourages it either.

We get polite smiles from the adults and wide-eyed stares from the kids. And one look at my kids as we continue to walk, and I know and feel their disappointment.

My point is this:  Friendship is a two-way street. Both sides need to be seeking and working at it for it to work. When just because one side tries and nothing comes of it doesn't mean that there's something wrong with them or they aren't trying hard enough. It becomes easy to think that.

Ah, well.  Enough pondering -- and complaining. We'll keep on trying...or perhaps it's time to move?

At least we'd get a new phone number.

To be continued...

Have One's Cake...

There's a famous expression that goes something like this: You can't "have one's cake and eat it, too." 

According to Wikipedia: To have one's cake and eat it too is a popular English idiomatic proverb or figure of speech, sometimes stated as eat one's cake and have it too or simply have one's cake and eat it. This is most often used negatively, to connote the idea of consuming a thing whilst managing to preserve it. This may also indicate having or wanting more than one can handle or deserve, or trying to have two incompatible things. The proverb's meaning is similar to the phrases, "you can't have it both ways" and "you can't have the best of both worlds." Conversely, in the positive sense, it would refer to "having it both ways" or "having the best of both worlds."

I did the unthinkable today. I don't know why I did it. Afterwards I wished in many ways that I hadn't done it.

But I did. 

So there you have it.

What was my heinous crime, you might wonder?

I went onto Dan Cathy's Facebook page and posted some kudos to him.

(I'll pause whilst you gasp and choke and decide whether or not you can associate with me anymore.)

I know. I know. I should have stayed away. After all, it's only the ones who oppose his views that are allowed to comment on his recent statements.

Or is it?

It's an interesting world we live in at the moment. 

Interesting in that only one side of any given issue is "allowed" to be spoken. Everyone else must be silenced or else threatened, bullied, and basically made to feel vile for having an opinion opposite of the politically correct/acceptable one.

Um...whatever happened to Freedom of Speech?

Seems to me that it goes both ways. I have to listen to your thoughts and respect you for having and/or sharing them...and you are obligated to do the same.  That's a polite society...that's called respecting one another.

Respecting you doesn't mean I agree with you. But it does mean that I don't hate you...or wish you were dead...or think you're a bigot, ignorant a**hole for your viewpoints.

But that's exactly what people who disagree with Dan Cathy's personal statement on his beliefs think. I posted the following and within seconds got the comments below it:

"Thank you, Dan, for being a public figure who stands up and is HONEST about his beliefs. It is so refreshing and such a blessing to have someone for our kids to looks up to. We will always support your business. And we thank God for you!!"

Comment 1: Learn to be a good Christian and not hate.

Comment 2: What an interesting parent you must be to want your kids to look up to the president of fast food who advertises his "Christian" morals of hate!

Wow!

What did I say that made them think I hate anyone?

And, for that matter, what did Dan Cathy say?

Here's a snippet from an article I read:

Chick-fil-A President Dan Cathy said this week that his privately owned company is "guilty as charged" in support of what he called the biblical definition of the family unit.

The Atlanta-based chain opened its first location in a Georgia mall in 1967 and grown to more than 1,615 restaurants in 39 states and Washington, D.C., with annual sales over $4.1 billion, according to its website.

"We are a family-owned business, a family-led business, and we are married to our first wives. We give God thanks for that," Cathy told the Baptist Press, the news agency of the Southern Baptist Convention.

Later in the article:

Chick-fil-A released its own statement, saying it has a history of applying biblically-based principles to its business, such as keeping its stores closed on Sundays.

"The Chick-fil-A culture and service tradition in our restaurants is to treat every person with honor, dignity and respect — regardless of their belief, race, creed, sexual orientation or gender," according to the statement.

"Going forward, our intent is to leave the policy debate over same-sex marriage to the government and political arena," it said.

Seems to me that people want their opinions heard, but they don't want to listen or read or see or know that the other side is disagreeing -- respectfully -- with them. And that's sad to me. I hear and read and see and know that the other side disagrees with me...but I never call them names or belittle their ideas or hang about on sites they like and wait to post mean comments. 

Whoa.  It's called Freedom of Speech? Something that we're all -- on both sides of the aisle -- guaranteed.

That I could post something personal and seemingly benign that within seconds had comments against it just makes me wonder if these people have too much time on their hands.

Or maybe I just live in a bubble most of the time...  Maybe this is really how the world behaves...

I think I'll go back inside that bubble for awhile...and maybe I'll take a piece of cake with me.

Bittersweet Sunday

Today, we lost another furry friend: Edward's first guinea pig Molly passed away. It was a hard loss -- as they all are -- but especially so since she was his first-ever pet. And she was such a sweet piggy.

I'm so thankful that God understands moments like these. As Luke 12:6 says: "Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them is forgotten by God."

He loves even the smallest of His creation, and He is the comforter of all.

We are so grateful.

Here's a repeat song from a few months ago...so meaningful to us.

    

What Really Matters

I have a headache the size of Montana, and my youngest is practicing to be the next drummer for Led Zeppelin and/or an organist for a horror flick. I get a phone call from my husband saying that his 43-year-old co-worker who collapsed a week and a half ago and remains in a coma doesn't look likely to pull through.

And then the kids start bickering.

I pull no punches and remind them of their pettiness, especially in light of the grief Stuart's co-worker's family is dealing with at this very moment.

Can't these kids feel the utter lack of meaning in their jibes and jabs at each other? No. They're young. They don't understand because it isn't them. They don't get it because it is surreal. Even we as adults can't grasp it -- the fragility of life -- although we know it's there.

It's a blessing and a burden.

In one sense, I feel glad to shelter them from the sadness that surrounds losing someone so precious...yet at the same time we grow complacent in our attitudes and treatment of each other. We get bored and so we poke and prod and provoke, not remembering that at some point that person may not be there to do all that to.

It's a sobering thought.

Do we want our last interactions with each other to be ones of annoyance and anger or love and kindness?

Choose what really matters.

The Present Day

"Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, but today is a gift. That's why it is called the 'present.'"  ~Eleanor Roosevelt

I had planned to blog on a different subject today, but seeing this on someone else's Facebook status today made me think of something a bit more timely.

We had a "little" incident at our house last night. A shocking one, to say the least. Some things came to light -- quite by accident -- that had been hidden for the past year.

All I can say is: WOW!

Sometimes you find out you don't know someone as well as you thought you did and...it hurts.

Badly.

It was amazing, really. The fact that it happened; the fact that it happened without our knowing it; and the fact that one of us had a hint that something was amiss, while the other was completely bamboozled. Completely.

Sigh.

So we know now. It's out in the open, and I think (hope!) all the various layers of the "onion" have been peeled back so that we're at the center with tons of onion pieces around us, causing our eyes to smart with tears.

And there are tears...many, many tears.

Sigh.

But where to go from here?

I think the collective thoughts are that trust has been shaken and respect has been lessened. Time will most certainly heal all the wounds...and trust and respect can be re-earned.

We all just need some time...

Sigh.

But when exactly does that start?

There's no time like the present. After all, today is a gift.

Nothing Personal

There are some things in life that I wish I could spare my kids from experiencing. One of the biggest is loneliness.

Everyone feels it at some point. The sadness of not being chosen until last. The pang of sorrow at not having someone to "pair off" with. The welling of the eyes when you read about someone doing something special with a "bestest-ever friend" and not including you.

Sure, it's life. Sure, it's normal. Sure, "it's just something that all kids have to deal with at some point in their life." I know that. Believe me.

"What hurts the most makes us stronger," right?

I grew up hearing those phrases. I knew that there was always a reason I wasn't chosen until last. I understood that it was "just one of those things" that I shouldn't worry about it when my friends paired off with others. I was told to just accept it and move on. One day, I'd meet a best friend. I just hadn't met her yet. Like there was some kind of fairy godmother out there who would come floating down and magically make my friend who'd liked me yesterday suddenly like me again today.

Hmm...

It doesn't matter so much to me now. I married my best friend.

But how much that hurt comes back when I hear my daughter whisper her own sadness through her tears, wondering why no one seems to like her, asking me if she isn't likable, if there's something wrong with her. She tries to be nice, she says. She's always kind.

Of course, all the platitudes spring to my lips, and I have to try to catch them before they slip out.

I don't know why she's having these troubles...why she keeps having these troubles...why we can go to all sorts of organizations, including church, and have kids who are actually mean to her...  I wish I understood. I wish my magical "mommy kiss" could fix this.

I've examined it from all angles, trying to help her to see what she can do differently, how she can act differently, dress differently, talk differently....

But why? Why shouldn't they like her for who she is? Why can't they?

And then my heart breaks again as my son recounts his first night of Spring soccer and says that he volunteered to be goalie only to have all the other boys say, "Oh, no! Not Edward! He's not good."

I try to hide my own sadness and ask him how he handled it, trying to get the gist of his feelings.

He smiles sadly and says that he just played better. He prayed and stood strong to their disapproval of him. I'm proud, but I know he hurts from it.

These are the times that no parenting book really prepares you for. There are no words to describe the pain this creates inside a person...especially a person who is still so young and tender. I want to move away, run away, hide away, put some kind of protective bubble around all of us and just hug these precious kids tightly.

So I beg all of you, parents -- and it's nothing personal -- to talk to your kids. Tell them to be kind and loving towards ALL people, not to shun those who might seem different in any way. Expect them to be inclusive. Tell them you'll "hurt their little hineys" if they don't, and I'll do the same to mine.

There's no reason ANY child should feel sad and left out.

Kindness begins at home.

Past Connections

I lost my last grandparent in May.

My grandmother, Janice S. Bartels, passed away on May 19th, just a little under a month from her 90th birthday.

I have never heard anyone say that death is easy. Ever. Even when you know that it's coming at some point -- there's no other end for us humans -- the reality of it isn't pleasant. Even when you know the person is "better off" because now he/she "isn't suffering," it isn't nice. It just feels so...final.

Suddenly you think of all the wasted moments, the times, the events -- good and bad -- that you won't get to share with that person. You can't just pick up the phone and call her anymore. You can't ask questions about her past to get to know her -- or her "era" -- a bit better, not that my grandmother was into that.

My grandmother had a hard life. Some of it was caused by her own choices, but some of it by just the fact that she was born into a home where her mother was somewhat harsh and the rest of her family perhaps a bit indulging?

Raising four children by herself in the '40s and '50s -- with a deadbest ex-husband who'd remarried a woman who wanted to pretend he didn't have a previous family -- my dad once told me it wasn't easy for her. The rumors that were spoken behind her back; the stories and gossip that were spread about this young, beautiful woman with her pretty teenage daughters who had to take in boarders to help pay the mortgage......

My mom just told me the other day that my grandmother needed to get a job once the divorce was final -- since she got very little of the court-ordered child support from my grandfather.  But she had never worked before in her life. She'd graduated in 1939, had my aunt in 1940, and then had my mom in 1941. She was a daughter and then a housewife and mom. So getting a job that paid well enough to keep their house and four kids was a feat in and of itself.  Add in the fact that she had no real job skills, and it was nearly impossible.

But she did it, and my mom and aunt worked as well.

I asked my mom if my great-grandmother ever offered monetary assistance. My mom said absolutely not. My great-grandmother would have loaned my grandmother money, but she always felt my grandmother was defiant and disobedient and made bad choices. She didn't ever think it proper for my grandmother to have her own thoughts and ideas and abilities. She was just wrong, in my great-grandmother's eyes. She'd "made her bed and so must lie in it."

It suddenly struck me how hard it must have been for my grandmother. It suddenly made me miss her more....wishing I could give her one more hug to let her know how much we loved her -- and how proud we were of her.

Everyone makes bad choices -- some more than others -- but isn't that what forgiveness and mercy are all about?

Sigh.

Facing the Truth

I've come to the conclusion after spending the past 3+ years on Facebook that to some "friends" I am a nobody...or at least nobody who is that important.

It's okay. It's okay.

I'm not looking for pity -- not in the slightest. I can leave that social network at any time...right?  Or, at the very least, go to "Facebook-users Anonymous." *wink-grin*

Let me explain.

I'm not sure of actual Facebook etiquette -- though I'm tempted to write a manual on the topic -- but if you're "friended" by people, especially people you thought were actual real-life friends, you should be important to them on there, right? What I mean by that is that if you comment on their posts or "like" something they've posted or leave them messages or tell them you'll pray for them, etc., they'll respond to you and maybe even reciprocate in kind (understandably, not all the time, of course). Or if they don't respond to you directly on a particular post they won't respond to anyone else who commented either.

WRONG.

Apparently, it's okay to thank some of the people who offer friendship and kind words to you...and ignore the rest.

Who knew?

Another part of the etiquette that I've come to learn is that people can comment TO someone who has commented on someone else's post, regardless of whether or not they've ever (and I mean EVER) communicated with the original poster directly. It's all a part of that "six degrees of separation," I guess.

Go figure.

I would have thought that they'd comment to the original poster and then add an "aside" to the commenter of choice. Guess I thought wrong again.

And yet another fact that I've learned concerning the Facebook "rules of friendship" is that people can publicly message one another bragging about the wonderful time they had together and how they can't wait to do it again and how they're the best-est friends they've ever known...and their kids will grow up and continue the family friendship for all eternity......  Okay, slight exaggeration on the "best-est friends" part since you know that they'll post that again on another person's wall before too long.

Well, I'll be.

It doesn't matter that their 180+ other friends have just read that and thought that they were their "best-est ever" friends and that they would just love to get together with them but they've been "far too busy to do that...but soon," etc. Hmm...

The fact is online friendship is still friendship. People go online to continue their friendships with others in a different way...another facet, if you will. It matters what you post and how you post and if you post. People are watching and reading and feeling -- even online.

Being rude online isn't any more acceptable than being rude in person. It's just easier.

So, Facebook friends, if you see that you've disappeared from my list, you'll understand why. Nothing personal..... 

Friendship is friendship (caring, loving, praying for each other) -- online and offline.  I'd rather spend my time -- both on and offline -- and energy -- both on and offline -- with people who truly care for me both on and offline.

Pray for Japan

My dear Japanese "sister," Haruko, and her family (parents and siblings, young nephews) live here. Pray for them! She would never want to worry us, but I think she is scared...as we are for her.

Sweet Sunday

For the people of Japan...

We sang this in church today, and I know that despite all that's happening, God loves these people and is watching out for them!! 

Our hearts and prayers are with you, Japan!!

Sweet Sunday

A dear sweet friend lost her father on Wednesday.

He was a papa...a grandpapa and a husband...an uncle, a father-in-law, a brother, a son, a friend.

And he was loved. By his family, by his friends, by those who knew him.

My heart hurt when I read that he'd stepped into eternity. But only for those who were left behind; those who wish with all their hearts that they could have kept him here a few more years -- at the very least.

My prayers and tears are with them now...but my heart rejoices with him, knowing that he is standing -- his body whole and unbroken -- before God and praising Him.