I hate to admit it, but I frequently watch a show on Monday night called "Wife Swap". This show takes two women from two families and places them in each other's homes for 2 weeks. During the first week, the swapped "wife" must follow the rules of the household she is sent to. The second week, she makes her own rules, as she sees them, and the family must follow them. They are reunited with their 'real' families after this and meet as a group with their husbands to share their experiences. For the most part, the wives are total opposites and this makes the show interesting. Since I have been watching this, I have realized why a lot of the children that are admitted to the Adolescent Psychiatric Unit where I work have the behavior problems that they do. I am not basing this conclusion on just one episode of this show; I have observed many with the same issues that I am writing about and it disturbs me.
Last night's show had a mother who wanted to be her children's "friend". She did not work, she devoted every waking hour in making sure that her kids were 'having fun'. The father accepted this and worked fulltime as well as did what housework he could because Mom didn't have time to clean. The house was deplorable, and when I say this, I mean that the Health Department should have intervened. The woman had a total of 25 different animals or pets living in the house. The animals lived as freely as the kids and excreted their waste in the house wherever they needed to. There were no rules, no bedtimes, no limits, no scheduled meals, they ate fast food for the most part. They didn't even have a dining room table because they ate whenever and wherever they wanted. There was a teenage boy, another boy and a little girl living in this total lack of structure, filthy home. This mother was convinced that she was raising her child to be healthy, productive adults. They could have sleep-overs with their friends whenever they wanted without even requesting permission to do so. The mother took them wherever they wanted to go regardless of the time and whether or not they had school the next day or not.
One might think that this is unusual, but it isn't. I have seen several mothers on this show as well as on other shows such as SuperNanny where a nanny is called in to solve 'behavior problems' and also on Dr. Phil where the parents can't cope with their children's acting out. I find this so sad. Parents are not parents anymore. It is not rare to have a young child, even 4 to 5 years old brought in by the police department where I work for admission. Can you believe it? Well, it's true. We have become a nation of parents that want to be friends, buddies, pals with their children and they are doing them a horrible disservice. They are not being parents.
In this country, currently children are encountering an increasingly hostile culture resulting in a growing number of children experiencing mental health problems. Mental health resources are currently treating only one of five children requiring treatment, and resources are diminishing at federal, state, and local levels. When children are admitted due to lack of parenting, this only compounds the problem. Most of these children that I have commented on above are not mentally ill, they are behavior issues that are not handled by parents. They are forced onto our police departments and our adolescent psychiatric facilities, which are decreasing by the day and they eventually will become part of our criminal element if this problem is not addressed.
Teachers now are required to dispense medication in the school to kids with 'behavior issues'. Teacher are not medically trained to do so, but due to the lack of School Nurses, they are forced to. This is a very dangerous trend, in my opinion, dispensing medication without the knowledge of pharmacology and medication side effects is a slippery slope. I don't blame the teachers, they are actually forced into it in order to conduct their classes without behavior outbursts. Our police are now forced into becoming the intermediary by going to the home and taking the child (usually in handcuffs) to the psychiatric facility that is available, if they accept children of course.
Children need structure, they need limits, they need rules to become emotionally healthy adults, they don't need parents who want to be their 'friend'. I hope that our country's parents wake up and take responsibility for raising their children. If they don't, their children will pay dearly in the future for this growing problem of lack of parenting.
In my previous post, I mentioned that we try to counsel our patients and teach them life skills in the short period of time that we have them. We frequently use the message below and I am not sure of the author. However, the message could apply to anyone, not just the adolescents we share it with:
Just for today I will try to live through this day only and not tackle my whole life problem at once. I can do something for eight hours that would appall me if I felt that I had to keep it up for a lifetime.
Just for today I will adjust myself to what is, and not try to adjust everything to my own desires. I will take my luck as it comes, and fit myself to it.
Just for today I will try to strengthen my mind. I will study, I will learn something useful. I will read something that requires effort, thought and concentration.
Just for today I will be happy. Abraham Lincoln said, "Most folks are as happy as they make up their minds to be."
Just for today I will exercise my soul in three ways: I will do somebody a good turn and not get found out. If anybody knows of it, it will not count. I will do two things that I don't want to do for self discipline.
Just for today I will have a program. I may not follow it exactly, but I will try. I will save myself from two pests: Hurry and indecision.
Just for today I will have a quiet half hour to myself, and relax. During this time I will try to get a better perspective of my life.
Just for today I will be unafraid. I will not be afraid to enjoy what is beautiful, and to believe that as I give to the world, so the world will give to me.
Just for today I will be agreeable. I will look as good as I can, dress becomingly, talk low, act courteously, criticize not one bit, not find fault with anyone and try not to change or improve anybody but myself.
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As you read each of these, don't you think that if we all practiced these simple life lessons, just for today, we could live in a harmonious world, a world without war, suffering, and pain. We would be more tolerant of different lifestyles, different skin colors, different religions, creeds, ideals. What a wonderful world that would be...................
Over the past several weeks the Adolescent Psychiatric Unit that I work at has been extremely busy with many admissions and discharges. This is unusual because during the summer our census is usually low. I cannot remember being this busy or as easily frustrated with my job because I love what I do.
The mental health workers that I work with are excellent and have become as frustrated as I have. We work many times without breaks and many are working overtime. We sometimes get angry at parents for their lack of parenting skills. These parents bring their kids to us and expect us to 'fix them' in a short period of time and then return them better.
One cannot become judgemental, one has to remain professional in spite of your feelings toward that parent. We also see kids who are autistic, mentally challenged, substance abusers, sexually abused children, as well as physically and emotionally neglected children. Due to budget and healthcare cuts and the closure of most adolescent psychiatric facilities, we now accept children from cities that could be 50 to 100 miles from us.
Last night, after one of the busiest nights I have worked, we made sure all of our patients were cared for, medicated if needed and put to bed. We maintain constant supervision and must check them every 15 minutes as they are all on general suicide precautions. My male and female mental health workers are the best I have ever worked with. However, last night we were all ready to just give up. Frustration does that to you. Nate, my male mental health worker, who was doing a double shift as he frequently does said "I can't do this anymore" because of all of the issues we deal with. We discussed whether or not what we do, what we teach them, what we counsel them on actually makes a difference. The average stay is about 3 to 7 days for most kids. That is a very short period of time to even attempt to undo or repair the damage these kids have experienced. You only hope and pray that you made an inkling of difference in their lives. Did one statement, one short period of counseling them, one instance where you showed that you cared, did anything stick?
We then began discussing some of our really difficult patients in the past 2 years. We had one young girl who came into our facility many times and each time, we dreaded her admission. She was defiant, hostile and very difficult to manage. We gave her timeouts, we put in our Quiet Room, we gave her medication to control her behavior, we had to physically restrain her many times. She pushed everyone's buttons and at first, none of us liked her. One night as I was driving home from work after a shift with her, I said to myself, "I can't deal with her anymore" which I do frequently. I woke up the next morning and decided I had to deal with her, she is my patient and I had to find a redeeming quality in her and focus on that. She had called me every swear word in the book of swear words, she tested my patience to the extreme, but I had to teach myself how to deal with her. So, the next time that she was admitted I tried a different approach with her. I took her aside and listened to all of her complaints, and told her that rather than act out and create chaos on the unit to come to me and ask me for her medication or a private talk and I would stop what I was doing and give her my full attention. She looked at me baffled by my new approach, but she agreed. She became calmer but was still being transferred to a longterm residential facility. She could not return home. This is so difficult for children to accept. They feel abandoned and unloved and act out more. I fully believed that once she left, her behavior problems would accelerate and that there was little hope for her future. We all felt that way, but we tried our best anyway. She is just one example of kids that we try to fix, some stories are even worse.
We began discussing 'Amanda' and her behavior last night and I wondered what happened to her. I found out that she was no longer in placement, was going to college and was leading a good life. I almost cried, it did work with her! We made a difference in her life. You cannot imagine how good that makes a healthcare professional feel. It is all worth it, it does make a difference. Nate then looked at me and said, "yeah, I guess handle it for a little bit longer now that I know she is doing well".
We encourage our kids to call us after their release if they have any problems they can't handle. We have several of these 'discarded' troubled kids call us even late at night. We always take their calls and listen, counsel, and encourage. We are sometimes the only person they trust, but we have earned that trust because we care about them and they know it. We bring them in little 'gifts' such as coloring books, scrapbooking supplies and other things. Nate is a big Star Wars fan and one of best mental health workers I have had the privilege to work with. Sometimes late at night before we put the little kids to bed, we make little 'capes' out of hospital gowns and let them become Jedi warriors. Nate has a 'real' Light Sabre that glows in the dark and they run around the unit with their little capes flowing behind them and their light saber. How could you not love this line of work when you see that?
Our country must take a look at our medical crisis right now. We are closing psychiatric facilities at an incredible rate. We have over 45 million people in this country without health insurance. This must become a priority in our country! We are denying future generations the healthcare they deserve. We are funneling billions of dollars to other countries, we are spending billions of dollars in the Middle East and watching our soldiers die at an alarming rate. Yet, people in our own country are being neglected. This has to stop, our children are our future and we are forgetting that.......................
Over the weekend, my grandaughters happened to come over to see their perfumista grandmother. I was pleased to see that I had not only a budding perfumista in my older grandaughter, Deana, who is 25, but now I was witnessing the emergence of her sister Lauren, who is 15, as a brand-new baby or princess "perfumista". I am so pleased, no honored, to see that genetically the fragrance gene is being passed! They sat and discussed, over lunch, which fragrance families were better suited to summer and winter, etc. I passed on to Lauren several of my fragrances that I now longer wore frequently. She is becoming quite adept at identifying florals, orientals, musks, etc., this tiny, beautiful 15 year old! She told me that her friends admire her 'collection' of fragrances that I have already given her. She sniffs fragrance strips in magazines and is developing her own fragrance style or signature, if you will. I could not have been more pleased!
My older daughter, Leslie, (their mother) loved perfume as well, but vacillated between two or three fragrances. Her sister, Holly, likes fragrance occasionally, but could really live without it if she had to. Can you believe it?
I was becoming frustrated that my love of fragrance would never be passed to future generations, considering it almost a failure on my part as a perfumista. However, I am pleased to witness the birth of two future perfumistas that will:
*Know what a dram is, and be able to convert it into milliliters.
*Know how many sprays there are in one milliliter.
*Pretend to listen when a salesperson explains the intricasies of a new scent production (even though they know more than her).
*Knows the right fragrance family for all the people each knows around them, family or friend.
*Have a long perfume wishlist that makes no sense to any other living creature on earth, but another perfumista, like myself.
*Hoards discontinued scents that were favorites 20 years ago.
*Dreams of the perfect arrangement for all of her perfumes to display.
*Understands when another perfumista's favorite scent is being discontinued, mourning along with them, understanding the pain.
*Always has a perfume atomizer full, beside the bed for a quick spritz when needed to make one's day, or night.
*Can discuss perfume for hours, but only to perfumistas, or other perfume lovers, and not think this is unusual.
*Knows the latest fragrance releases, even before sales associates do, and quite often has much more knowledge than them.
*Has tons of perfume shopping sites bookmarked in her favorites.
*Sees certain perfume bottles as "works of art".
*Actually contemplates and studies whether to purchase groceries or a new fragrance.
Now I can die with the knowledge that I have passed on this very important genetic trait! I have witnessed the birth of two young perfumistas that will wear the title of "perfumista" well! Thank you Deana and Lauren, may your life be filled with fragrance.
I think that it has been about a year since I began writing my blog. Writing a blog and reading those of so many other people has been a fascinating journey for me.
Most of what I have read has been positive, and this blogging hobby of mine has allowed me to uncover and to discover so much about myself through my writing, and I have met some very wonderful people in the process.
For the most part, it has been a rewarding process. But I have also met some nasty people, vindictive, vengeful people as well. I have seen individuals, who shall go unnamed, who are cruel, mean, abusive and who speak poorly of others. They use words here in the land of Blogville that would not dare be uttered within their community, nor to others. Some men and women actually brag about being unfaithful to their spouses. There is a bully mentality among several of them, the conclusion being that if you are made to feel terrible, you may change to their way of thinking. Consequently, some feel it is necessary to come here and berate others simply because they can. To me, this conduct is a form of bullyism by proxy.
This brings me to my question for the day. Are these individuals really so righteous? Does God look upon them with favor, dignity and strength, or as those with weaknesses? One example I read was from a very kind religious woman who admitted to being bi-sexual. She was literally harrased, shunned, bullied and made fun of, and was spoken to in the most unpleasant of terms, all because these individuals did not approve of her life-style. So, who is the more righteous? The one who is open and honest, although maybe different, but who has a kind heart and a good soul, or the one who is mean, nasty and abusive? I was raised to believe that being a good Christian means being a good person, no matter what else may be involved. Are these individuals who cheat, lie, bully, demean, curse, harass, truly good people? Not in my world they are not! Frankly, I think they are shameful individuals, who live within a realm of negativity and criticism, and the only way to make themselves feel big/better is by putting other people down, regardless of the cost.
Therefore, this post is for all of you, who ae a little different, maybe not so observant, committed, or have chosen another path, to know that you are respected and loved for who you are. Live and let live for heavens sake. It is also for those of you who are religious and righteous to know that you, are the examples, the pillars of our community, whose words, thoughts and deeds are cherished and appreciated by us all as well. If we cannot learn to respect one another, how can the world be expected to respect us as well?
A co-worker and myself were having a discussion the other day about marriage and when I told her that I was going through my current divorce, she said, "Wow, you must really be hard to live with". I looked at her and responded, "No, I just made a few wrong choices in partners". I then began to think to myself about the perception of people that have been married more than once as well as the perception of single women living alone who prefer it that way.
I must say that I entered each of my three marriages with the best of intentions; to live happily ever after, to be faithful and honest with each other, and above all else, to trust. I would have probably been shocked if I had known at a young age that I would go through three divorces! I would have said to myself, "No way, marriage is forever", because this is how I was raised. My own parents stuck it out even though their marriage was not a good one If my father had not passed away at an early age,they would probably still be married. Would this be considered a happy marriage? Not on my terms, but I didn't know it then. My parents fought like cats and dogs, but when you are young you don't understand that. Today 50% of all marriages fail. I admit that I tried to buck the odds with my second and third marriages, but I became part of the 50% failure again. I am not unhappy because of this because I have learned to be alone, to like my own company, and to survive quite well on my own. It is a myth that single women are sad, lonely and financially troubled. Actually, despite some very real hardships, they've never been happier.
Do they become lonely? Of course they do, but it is much lonelier to be in a relationship where you feel lonely. That is a sad state, believe me. Are they sad now and then? Sure, aren't we all? Do they occasionally lose sleep worrying about the future? Yes, and with good reason: being a single older woman comes with it's own economic challenges. But that doesn't stop the majority from believing that middlelife offers an opportunity for growth, for instance, doing something you always wanted to do. In reality, many of my single friends and myself are living lives of secret contentment.
We are not desperate to find a mate, open to a nice relationship, maybe; but obsessed with finding a partner, not on your life. I know I have reached a point in my life where I am more mature, more secure and more content. I don't have to be out and about seeking attention like some younger single women do - and I did the same as a younger single women. I like myself for who I have become. Lord knows I worked hard enough emotionally to get here. It was a hard road of disappointments and severe emotional pain to become confident, self-assured and proud of who I am now in my later years. Is this the wisdom that comes with old age, is it maturity and finally growing up? I don't know, but I am happy that I have finally arrived. I don't feel the need to have someone 'complete me' as Jerry McGuire said. I am complete and do not feel the need begin a search for another man. A relationship would be nice, but no more marriages.
In all reality, I would be very reluctant to even contemplate another marriage. I expect so much from a marriage. Those same old things I was looking for when I was young: eternal love, faithfullness and truth and devotion to each other. I most likely would pick the wrong person again. Am I hard to live with? I don't really think so, I just make bad choices every now and then.
Thought about my sweet Grandma all day yesterday, July 17, on what was the 39th year of the day I lost her.
I have missed her deeply since the day I traveled to Troy, Ohio to her funeral and met her brothers and sisters from Mississippi attending her funeral. Her sister Susie looked so much like her it made me cry. I had never met any of her people, the Ballards, from Mississippi, but I would have loved to have know them.
My grandmother married my grandfather, Cecil , as a young girl and moved to Kentucky with him. She bore him 4 sons, losing one at birth. She lost my dad, Stanley Eugene Ballard before her death and I know that it literally broke her heart. Since I have lost a child at almost the very same age that my grandma did, I understand the pain that she suffered at the time.
My grandma was in the room of the home on Simpson Street when I was born. I was her first grandchild and I was the girl she always wanted. My mother had already decided my name was going to be Linda Diane, but my grandmother convinced her to name me Charlotte Diane. Charlotte was a dear friend of hers that I never knew growing up, but I have her name just the same. My grandmother literally doted on me the moment I was born and loved me deeply until the day she died.
We moved from Ohio when I was barely 9 years old. It was extremely difficult leaving my grandmother in Ohio. She solved that problem by having my Dad drive me to Ohio the very minute that school let out. I stayed with her for the whole summer, just returning to Michigan when it was time to go back to school.
My grandmother ran a boarding house for men in Ohio. She also had a gentlemen who worked for the railroad have only his meals every day at her immaculate, well-maintained home. This was her source of income since she had no skills, marrying as young as she did. I grew up around her roomers and boarders and remember each one of them fondly. She also lived in sin with a man named Preston Cross for years and they had a wonderful relationship until the day he died. I never questioned why they didn't marry, but I never associated her with my grandpa Cecil. Preston was like a grandpa to me as well. My grandmother doted on me when I stayed with her. I remember going to a dry-goods store and going up to their upper floor by way of the old creaky wooden stairs and looking through all of the books of paper dolls, and at the coloring books, and the crayons. My grandma would just tell the shop owner, "give the girl whatever she wants", she was like that. I didn't just get a box of crayons, I got the big box with the gold, silver and copper crayons! She was so good to me. I thought all grandmas were like that. She would take me to the County Fair in Ohio and would say "let's have our picture made" and we did. I didn't know until recently that her real name was Minerva Frances. She went by Frances. I remember the fragrance of that dry-goods store, the fragrance of the paper doll books and crayons, and it is comforting to be able to remember them.
My travels to my grandmothers house in the summer continued all of my young life. I even stopped and stayed at her house on the way to Florida for my honeymoon. She was so glad that I did. She would write letters to me faithfully until her fingers became so crippled with arthritis that she couldn't. She then had a friend write as she dictated. I traveled to Ohio to see her in the hospital right before she died. I remember brushing her beautiful, long, black hair that grew to the middle of her back. She never dyed her hair, but it was a lustrous black until the day she died, just like my Dads. She was confused during her last hospitalization, but told me that she had heard them 'calling me' over the hospital intercom to come to her side, and now, here I was.
Minerva Frances was a very special part of my life and I will always love her and honor her memory. I like to believe that my Leslie is now with her and enjoying her like I did. I took Leslie on a train once to see her when Leslie was a toddler and my grandma showered her with the same love she always gave me. I am convinced she will know her when she sees her now................
You know how kids are when they are hurt....they keep their hands over the boo-boos so that you can't see them or treat them. As adults, you know they have to let go so you can help them and make them feel better......but most of the time, the biggest job is prying those fingers away.
That is the way we are sometimes with the hurtful things in our lives.....we are so busy "holding" on to them that we don't give our faith and God the chance to do his work...because we "think" we know better.
Now, asked straight out who could handle it better, us or God...we would think it was a silly question, God, of course! But WHAT do our actons say? And what is the benefit of worry? And what does it tell our children about the faithfulness of God to his people and the covenant he has with us? Let go and let God..........
Currently I am reading a book called "Tuesdays With Morrie" by Mitch Albom. I previously read "The Five People You Meet In Heaven" as well, completing it in one sitting!
"Tuesdays With Morrie" is about a man who is dying from Lou Gehrigs Disease (ALS) and how he handles it. "The Five People In Heaven" is about a man who works at a carnival and fixes certain rides when they need it. He is a man who felt that he went through life and no one noticed or cared, even when he died. These are both small, but very powerful, books.
Each one of us has experienced change in the form of illnesses, or the natural deterioration of our own bodies during the ageing process, and it is an inevitable consequence for us all. Moreover, many of us have gone through the pain of watching a loved close to us die, either figuratively or actually (such as an illness which renders a person to be someone other than he/she used to be, or death).
This subject makes one think about how our own bodies change, and the impact that this has on those around us as well. Some of us will fight and resist change and insist upon hanging on to a dream or an idea of a person as he/she used to be. Is it not often the case that as we watch someone whom we love or care about deeply become ill or suffer, that at times, we too may die in the process as well? Are we not all ordinary individuals having extraordinary experiences?
When the day is done and over, how do we decide who we are? How do we judge ourselves, and when, and by what achievements (of lack thereof) does one leave an imprint on those around us? Do we measure ourselves by only our achievements? Do each of us stop to live the very best life we can, or do we keep waiting for the miracles around us to happen? Does age become our teacher, or our own enemy? If you had to write your own epitaph, what would you want it to say, and why?
Here it is July, a month that I have grown to hate. Each year, I try not to think about it, but I literally hold my breath that nothing happens until the month is over. Silly, yes? But, I have had so many losses occur in this month that I feel it has become a month to fear.
My first loss in July was July 7, 1962. My father, who was only 40 at the time, died while I was at the airport picking up my sister who was coming in from Missouri to be at his bedside. I just happened to stop during my walk through the airport and called my mother. I had a feeling something was wrong, but my Dad had conquered illness so many times that I wasn't prepared for this loss. I was pregnant with my first child, Leslie. I took his death very hard - I was extremely close to my Dad and not at all prepared to lose him.
My second loss was my dear grandmother, Frances on July 17, 1967 . Oh how I loved that woman. She had been ill but I didn't expect to lose her either. I traveled to Ohio to be at her funeral and was pregnant at the time with my second child, my son Steven.
My oldest daughter died on July 5, 2002. Now I knew there was something about July. Her death took all of the inner strength that I could muster up just to keep breathing.
I hope to get through this July with no further loss and I dedicate this message to the loved ones that I have lost:
Listen to the wind when I'm not there to be with you,
For as it dries your tears away it will tell you of my love.
As you walk in the fields of Heaven, when I'm not there to walk with you,
Listen to the lark as it sings of my love for you.
When it's late at night and I'm not there to hold you,
Dream of tomorrow and you will find me there.
In my opinion, lying to your partner is never right, but sometimes understandable. Some people try to control their partner by becoming upset at things they disapprove or or don't like. The other person resorts to lying to avoid upsetting them.
However, true communication involves both a willingness to hear the truth and a willingness to tell the truth. If one person refuses to hear the truth, the other person may stop telling it. People need to give each other the freedom to be honest.
It is fine to express your feelings about a partner's behavior and hope that they will change. It is quite another to use emotional blackmail to prevent them from doing things you don't like. Adults should be in charge of their own behavior and accountable for the same. Obviously if their actions are illegal or immoral that changes things - as long as you don't try to apply your own moral values on them. Adults also have a right to decide on their own moral values.
Even though I worked last night on the fourth of July, I was thinking about my country and some of the basic rights that were set forth by the founders of our nation. We are truly blessed to live in this country. Among the things that I considered, some were vague, although significant, they included the pursuit of happiness.
What is happiness though? Many could say it is objectively defined, as being a virtue, or a state of being that has more reference to doing service for others, and impact on the outside world rather than a subjective state of being. Other people define happiness more subjectively, in terms of tangible objects, such as money, winning the lottery, have a beautiful home with a swimming pool, a well-stocked fragrance collection (me), looking good all the time, buying as much as one wants, etc. Still, for others, the idea is defined more from within, having a state of well being, including and most important, good health, both physical and mental, and achieving a certain type of inner peace, a quiet mind if you will. Still for others, it could be having children, seeing them succeed in the lives, and being happy and healthy and reaching their goals.
My question is, what is your definition of happiness? How, and under what circumstances do you achieve it? Does it involve selfless acts, necessary? Are the accumulation of material goods a part of what makes you happy? Is it a state of mind, body and soul? Remember though, happiness is not a way of life, it is fleeting, and must be appreciated while you have it. It comes and goes, and is not a permanent thing, only short-lived so that you compare it to the other times, making it special and worthwhile.
Over the weekend, two of my grandaughters came over for a visit; the older one is expecting my great-grandchild in January and I can hardly contain myself in the anticipation of this event. Can you even begin to imagine, a great-grandchild? We were talking about my hobby of scrapbooking, which I love. I have made scrapbooks for each of them and the older one said that several people that she showed her books to stated that they were good enough to be done professionally and sold. I love the compliment because I am proud of my work, but, as I told her, I could never do that because they are too personal to me. After they left, I began to think about that and realized that I scrapbook for them not only to somehow preserve their legacy, but also, to give them my memories.
I have given many gifts to my children and grandchildren over the years and I suspect I will give many more before my life is through. Some will be simple, some extravagant, most carefully chosen, some picked in haste on the way to somewhere. Some could be rare and unusual, the kind of gift that makes the giver hover excitedly while the paper is unwrapped. But even those incomparable treasures could have been uncovered by someone else - even, heaven forbid, by another grandmother. They're unusual, but they're not unique. There is only one gift in all the world that can be given by me alone, only one gift I can give that is 'truly' unique. That is the gift of memories, captured and preserved and passed on to the people that I love. Only I can preserve the timeless treasure that conveys my heart and my love to them most eloquently. Even some of the treasures that I make by hand, my crocheted blankets, for example, provide a mute testimony to my unconditional love for them. But not even the most exquisite handmade treasure cannot communicate the way a picture can, the way a word can. Sometimes you have to tell the story by actually telling the story. Just yesterday, I was listening to some music and heard the song "Jesus Christ Superstar" from the broadway show by the same name. I had taken my three children to see the play at their school when they were younger. At the end of the performance when everyone was standing and clapping their hands to the music and such a great performance, I looked up and there on the stage were my three kids with the cast, singing their little hearts out. What a fond memory! I will have to scrapbook that thought, I want to let them know how great a moment that was in my life, something I will always remember. The gift of family stories preserved in words and pictures is an irreplaceable and timeless treasure.
When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat that doesn't go, and that doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves and satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired and gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells and make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain and pick the flowers in other people's gardens and learn to spit.
You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat and eat three pounds of sausages at a go or only bread and pickle for a week and hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.
But now we must have clothes that keep us dry and pay our rent and not swear in the street and set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.
But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised when suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple......................................
*Romance is fleeting.......Love is long.
*Romance is dancing in the moonlight. Gazing deep into desired eyes across a candlelit table...Love is saying: "you're tired, honey, I'll get up this time" - and stumbling through the darkness to comfort a crying child.
*Romance is suspense, anticipation, a surprise...Love is dependability.
*Romance is tingling excitement...Love is tenderness, constancy, being cherished.
*Romance is eager striving to appear attractive to each other.......Love is two people who find beauty in each other no matter how they look.
*Romance is flattering attentions....Love is genuine thoughtfulness.
*Love is heightened and sweetened by romance, but it can survive without it....
*Romance feeds on itself and thus, is self-consuming.
*Romance is delicious.....Love nourishes.
*Romance is seeking perfection....Love is forgiving faults.
*Romance is flying....Love is a safe landing.
*Romance is the anguish of waiting for the phone to ring to bring you a voice that will utter endearments.....Love is the anguish of waiting for a call that will assure you someone else is happy and safe.
*Romance can't last.................Love can't help it.
Dependability, caring, protection, listening and kindness.
Love does not demand, it asks.
Love does not manipulate into dark ways, but leads to illumination.
Love does not accuse, it questions in a positive manner.
Love is not always being together,
but is an intersection of two people in a world of fast moving fates.
Love is like a solid comfortable hide-a-bed...
sturdy, provides excellent support and is durable.
If you know how it works, you can even sleep in it.
When my world falls down around me,
And the ground is sinking sand;
When peace can't be found on this earth,
I reach out for your hand.
Then when your hand wraps 'round my own,
A strength pours from your soul;
It brings me to a quiet calm,
Till once again I'm whole.
A peace beyond all reason,
A rest there in your touch;
Something in your quiet words,
My heart years for so much.
If I but rest my worries,
Upon your shoulder there;
The strength that pours forth from your soul
Will wash away each care.
Like a cool, sweet taste of water,
For a tired and thirsty man;
My heart finds peace, my soul is calm,
When I reach out for your hand..........
July 5th will be upon us soon and that is your angel day...
I just wanted to let you know.....
I wrote your name in the sand,
but the waves washed it away.
I wrote your name in the sky,
but the wind blew it away.
So, I wrote your name in my heart and that is where it will stay.
* I love and miss you, my firstborn, Leslie girl.................
Her soul lives on, somewhere in the stars!
It's easy to say "I.m leaving"
It's even easy to go
But after you leave, What then?
You have to look at where you want to be instead of just at
Where you don't want to be.
The problem is if you know where you want to be
But that is the one place that it is not possible for you to be.
Some days I feel like my life is spinning out of control and I am just along for the ride
Other days I feel like my life is finally my own at last and I know the answer to everything
I wonder which one of those thoughts is the real one - if there is such a thing as reality
Is there reality for anyone or does it exist for some people but not for others
If it exists for some people is it a matter of luck, or is there some way to attain it
Do I just not try hard enough or is the problem something in my past or something I was born without
My heart really doesn't want an answer
Because there's one thing I do know, my reality will never include you.
We were.......
Much too young
Much too selfish
Much too blind to make it
Much too wounded
Much too frightened
Much too hurt to take it
Too much we said
When love seemed dead
To go on and forget
Too little learned
From anger burned
Too much we both regret
Yet there's been
Too much good
Too much love
For us to walk away
Too much caring
Too much sharing
For us not to stay
Too much harm
To children's charms
To tear our home apart
Too much time
For nursery rhymes
To give away our hearts
Too much we've shared
With no one else
To go on and forget
Too many years of drying tears
To do what we'd regret
Too many laughs when thinking back
Remind me what is true
I find that I still love you
And I think you love me
Too...............................
Solitude is something I have always enjoyed
I rarely feel lonely when I am alone
But in that bed with him
I always felt isolated and sad.
Now alone in bed I feel relaxed
And free to be me
Still sometimes sad and lonely
But no longer isolated.
Whoever it was that said
"I'd rather be lonely for someone
Than lonely with someone"
Knew what they were talking about.
My faithful blog readers know how much I am against the war in Iraq and always have been. I knew that when war was declared by us that Pandora's box was being opened, maybe never to close.
Each and every day that passes, it seems as if the news in that country goes from grim to grimmer, with the costs, both in human lives and dollars escalating each and every day. It actually makes me feel that my heart is bleeding when I think of the over 2500 young men and women who have given their lives for this senseless and stupid war. A war of egos that should be fought by Presidents and leaders, not countries. This doesn't include the thousands that have been injured as well as the sad loss of some innocent Iraqi lives, among them women and children. This is a domino effect that includes thousands of lives in some form or another.
Are we becoming immune to turning on the news and watching the death and destruction daily?
In spite of what Mr. Bush professes, when was the last time you heard of anything good happening inside Iraq, any step in the right direction? He insists that he wants to bring democracy to this country, but does one actually see a Democratic process emerging there, through daily fighting, slaughter and death? What does the cost of this horrible war mean for us Americans? We have spent billions of dollars, so much that we do not have any money left now to work towards warding off a nuclear program that could surface inside North Korea and Iran, it's horrible when you consider it. The cost of a gallon of gas is almost triple what it was prior to the beginning of this war. We have yet to capture Bin Laden, and no one can prove to me that our country is safer today than it was prior to 911. I personally feel that we may be more vigilant, but are we truly safer? I don't think so, we have made ourselves a country that is hated rather than respected. We have borders that go sadly, unpatrolled and open for any type of invasion or threat. The cost of gasoline has raised all of our necessary goods and commodities, who can afford a vacation this year due to the high cost of gas, either by driving or flying?
My heart weeps when I see the families of those Americans who have lost sons, daughters, fathers and husbands, sisters and brothers, concluding, and in my opinion, that this is a sacrifice for our country. Take a long and hard look around our country today, assess the lives lost, the destruction of families because of this loss, the money spent and the oilmen profiting from it, and the amount of work that still needs done here in our own country. The Gulf Coast doesn't look much different than it did last year with billions of dollars squandered there. Are we truly better off today that we were 6 years ago? I hardly think so and I worry about the future of my children and grandchildren. Mr. Bush, you cannot leave office soon enough for me.
Recently someone sent me this, I don't remember who, but the words ring so true.
I have never minded growing older or ageing or even facing my death because one should gain maturity and acceptance as they age. Some do, some live in 'arrested development', but if you are lucky like me, you will learn life's lessons. Here are just a few:
As we grow up, we learn that even the one person that wasn't supposed to ever let you down probably will. You will probably have your heart broken more than once and it's harder each and every time.You will break your share of hearts as well, so remember how it felt when yours was broken.
You will fight with your best friend. You will blame a new love for things an old one did. You will cry because time is passing too fast, and you will eventually lose someone you love.
So, take too many pictures, laugh way too much, love life like you've never been hurt and dance like no one is watching - because every sixty seconds that you spend upset is a minute of happiness that you will never get back, don't waste it.
Don't ever be afraid that you life will end, because it will, but be afraid that it will have never begun......................
For some unknown reason today, I began thinking about the word infidelity and what it actually meant, depending on the context that it was used in. I have noticed upon reading many different blogs as I do, that this word is discussed frequently.
When I first ventured into blogsville, I was initially quite shocked to find that many blogs contained posts that were vulgar in origin, and some were quite sexually graphic as well. What I found interesting was that many of these posts on different blogs were written by many men and women who claimed that they were very religious, and followed commandments and prohibitions strictly in their personal lives. This issue exists and can surface among even those who claim to be ultra-religious, one prime example being Jim Baker, who turned out to be an adulterer as well as a liar and a cheater in his church business, landing him with a lengthy jail term.
I was quite surprised at some blogs that they were so flippant and forthright when talking about sex, using graphic language and what I considered crossing a barrier that I had believed was not ever any issue for them in their real lives. Should we not be vigilant here with our words and the tone of our posts, even if no one knows us, or does the veil of the internet allow us to express ourselves in ways we might find prohibitive in real life?
With computers and the veil of anonymity, and the accessibility of meeting so many others with the touch of the keyboard, many words and comments may be made, which can be taken as crossing the line and turning fidelity into infidelity. As far as I am concerned, one's motives and intentions have a great deal to do with when and to what extent an innocent act or word can cress the line into unfaithful and dishonest conduct.
I then began asking myself if infidelity is always only about adulterous sex? In my opinion, no, there are far worse ways to be an infidel. Who among us can forget Bill Clinton's own conclusion when he said "I did not have sex with that woman", Monica, because to him receiving oral sex did not fall within that definition. At the time, I understood what he meant.Our current president has committed far worse crimes in my estimation,the worst being the death of 2500 of our country's finest young men and women. All of those deaths far outweigh Mr. Clinton's oral sex. Something more, according to Bill, at least for him, was required to meet the definition of infidelity.
Knowingly lying to your partner about important things is a form of infidelity to me. Secreting things and hiding facts from your partner is another. Staying with someone for the wrong reasons when there is no feeling left, not allowing the other person to be set free and get on with their life, is a form of infidelity to me. Trust is the foundation of any commitment or relationship, and you break it when you lie, secret, hide and otherwise not reveal the truth to the person you are supposed to love. So in my opinion, it is not just the sexual act that is infidelity, it is also breaking trust by lying, secreting, hiding or otherwise not revealing the truth. Betrayal comes in so many forms. People may have different opinions on which one of these would hurt the most but personally, I think all of it does, not just the fact that an adulterous act was committed. Basically it is all a total lack of trust or a lie within the relationship. Betrayal is in the eye of the beholder.
How would you define infidelity?
With tomorrow being Father's Day, I had to remind myself of what a wonderful son-in-law I have in Dwayne. My daughter has been married to him now for several years and they have two wonderful little boys.
I could not ask for a better father for my grandchildren.
Dwayne works very hard to provide a happy home for my daughter and the boys. My daughter is a stay at home Mom who is able to do so because her husband works as hard as he does. He also finds time to spend coaching his son's different sport teams. Dwayne takes to being a father like a duck to water and clearly enjoys being with his sons as much as possible. He is a wonderful role model for them and I am proud to call him my son-in-law.
Dwayne, I hope that you have a wonderful Father's Day, you so deserve it!
( poem from sons to father)
"The things you taught me I will always know.
How could I not? The roots have sunk so deep;
All lessons of the heart that I will keep
No matter who I am or where I go.
Kids learn from what their parents are, and so
You are my book of life, the thoughts I reap;
Only in your arms I quiet sleep;
Under my words your voice sings soft and slow.
From you I learned the rules of right and wrong
How lucky I am to have been loved so well,
Relying on a father so fair and strong."
Patience is a sign of inner peace. When one is at ease with oneself, with what one has done with one's life, and with one's approaching death, time loses it's urgency and becomes more an ocean than a stream.
Patience allows one to listen and observe before one acts or speaks. It allows events to reach maturity, so that choice can be better informed by circumstance. It allows time for words and acts to put on weight, so as to appear abroad with sufficient dignity.
One is patient with what one has accepted and impatient with what one resists. One is patient with what one loves and impatient with what one resents. Thus, the more one loves life and accepts death and pain, the more patient one will be.
It patience expands one's time, tolerance expands one's space, allowing differences to generate interest rather than conflict so that one can learn from them and live in a wider world.
When others can also be right, one can begin to see the world from multiple points of view, and one's field of thought becomes more like a galaxy than like the narrow mountain valley of one's birth.
The burden of being right contains the additional burden of proving others wrong, which together is enough weight to keep any bird from taking flight.
Humor, especially self-deprecating humor, allows one to step outside oneself with a light and varied heart.
Humor arises from incongruity, which arises from viewing something simultaneously from multiple points of view. It therefore incorporates both tolerance and patience, teaching self-knowledge through mischievous pleasure.
Humor is the friend of moderation and the enemy of excess, for excess is a balloon and humor a needle.
Patience, tolerance, and humor must be practiced in moderation, for there are circumstances in which a light heart is not appropriate, and evils that out not be tolerated or patiently borne. But neither ought one be so consumed with evil that one becomes incapable of happiness. For life is short and evil long, and there is no need to condemn oneself to live with it's prison when all around us the world is bursting with glory.
I am still working on patience, but tolerance and humor are finely-tuned in my universe.
During my deep musings and thoughts today, I was thinking about the qualities that I admire in people that I will allow close to me. Right up at the top of my list were the qualities, good character and trustworthiness. Then I began to question how would I define them?
Character is made up of the virtues that engender trust: honesty, integrity, loyalty, courage, self-discipline, and devotion.
Trust is the greatest external reward for good character, although the internal rewards are even greater. If one is in business, trust is a commodity of unestimable value, while if one is in love, it is the house in which one lives.
Trust is hard-earned and easily lost, as one lie or act of disloyalty can throw into question years of honesty and fidelity. Maybe a consistently good character could stand a bit of battering with most people, but not me. When trust is lost, it is gone forever even if the character is admirable.
Society requires a certain level of trust to function, which is why societies that value good character function better than those that do not. For wealth comes from productive labor, which requires order and cooperation, which require trust.
Therefore, each person of good character is a contributor to the general wealth and happiness, and each person of bad character is a detriment. As a model for one's family, friends and acquaintances, one multiplies one's character, good or bad, throughout society, and so each individual, perhaps more than is commonly realized, is truly responsible for the proper functioning of society, upon which the personal well-being of all depends.
The greatest internal reward for good character is self-esteem, which, although enhanced by the comments of others, sits squarely upon the rock of one's self-evaluation. And because one trusts those of good character oneself, one knows very well whether one is oneself, trustworthy and in possession of those qualities that win the esteem of others. The greatest penalty, then, is low self-esteem, rarely admitted even to oneself, but still the source of much internal suffering. This is how I view or define character and trust, both being of utmost importance in all of my relationships.
Joy requires one to be awake,
Adjusting the heart's ambiance to bright.
Some prefer the dark, as is their right,
On grounds of agony, and to forsake
Not only bliss, but all that's blessed by light.
There are walls beyond satisfaction,
Worlds in which pain is a credit card.
Ecstacy is the enemy of happiness,
Nor can we let go of what we have forgotten.
There are times when what makes us suffer
Yields fulfillment more exquisite than dreams,
Severs our arteries to the future,
Immolates skin that permits us to embrace,
X-rays our desire to live.
