Letter #18
I haven't posted one of these mom to son letters in a while. Once in a while, there's something that I think needs to be expressed and now is one of those times. There's been a lot in the news this past week about marriage equality. It can be a sensitive issue and some are really against it and some are really for it. My opinion is that I shouldn't have an opinion on it. That people outside of a relationship shouldn't have an opinion -- or an opinion that counts anyway. Why should anyone have any control over who someone else is allowed to be in love with? It just is a problem that really shouldn't exist. If you love someone and you want to marry them, why should others have a say in it?
One angle I've always looked at it from, as well, is that equal should be equal. Ok, let me explain a little more. I remember a few years ago when there were cases where employers began offering benefits, like heath and life insurance, to same sex couples. I didn't agree with that. Not that I didn't agree with same sex couples. And it wasn't that I thought that their partners shouldn't be eligible for benefits. My beef with it was this. I thought that if the partner in an unmarried same sex relationship would qualify for those benefits, then it was unfair to not extend benefits to unmarried opposite sex couples. And how could you discriminate on what partners could be eligible? How many people would list people as their partner just for those benefits where there wasn't a real relationship? What kind of financial strain would that put on employers if there was a sudden influx of non-married partners suddenly eligible to be on an insurance plan of someone they said they were in a relationship with? And imagine the paperwork nightmare as people bounced in and out of relationships. To me, it made the most sense to allow same sex marriage and make benefits available across the board for the spouse and require that there be a committed, legal relationship for eligibility.
But of course, it's an issue that is about much more than insurance legalities. It's about freedom. It's about freedom to love who you are attracted to and born to love. Isn't that the entire basis of the country that we live in? That we are all given the basic rights of freedom in many forms? I'm guessing that in a few decades your kids will not realize that this was such a big issue. Just like for me, voting as a women is just a part of every day life, but once women didn't have that freedom. Just like decades ago, a black man couldn't sit in a counter at a restaurant alongside a white man. Now all races live and work and eat alongside one another. I have no doubt that one day, two men or two women marrying will be a non-issue, but it seems like we're taking so long to get there.
I also want to urge you not to judge, even if you don't agree. I don't know what's in your head. You might not have the same view on it as I do. I hope you will be open-minded and have the courage to support what others may not think is right. I can't say that I've always been this supportive on the issue, but that's mainly because I grew up in a time when we were taught that it wasn't right to love someone you weren't supposed to and if you did, you were expected to hide it. We've made a lot of progress in the last three or so decades, but there are still generations who were raised to not be so tolerant. And many of them will continue to fight it simply because that is what they were taught and that is what they know and that is what they stubbornly believe is right. This generation is different and I hope you are able to recognize that and see its worth. Love who you love in your heart and don't let anyone tell you not to. And let others love who they love. It's up to them, not you.
Thursday, March 28, 2013
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
Time flies
I should be sleeping, but I took a little nap this morning and now here I am up late with my mind racing. There's tons to get done...I got back from a meeting this evening at 8:30 and hadn't even eaten dinner yet. I have writing deadlines in the morning that I can't do until I get a response from a source, so that's stressing me out. I'm coordinating a dinner for about 200 veterans and guests next month and my phone is ringing off the hook with reservation requests. Last night was 3 hours of listening to voice mails, returning calls, checking e-mails and recording RSVPs. On Saturday my sister is getting married and I have tons to do. I don't think I have one complete outfit together yet for one person in this family. And tomorrow night my oldest son is going to graduate from the fire academy. I just can't believe it.
This is the boy who has been obsessed with firefighting since his dad joined the local fire department as a volunteer when he was 3. His dad enjoyed it, became a part-time, paid-on-call firefighter and later tested for full-time and has now been at it for a decade.
My oldest son had tons of fire truck toys and books and pajamas. He had memorized every piece of apparatus by kindergarten, including how old each vehicle was (the year it went into service was written on the inside of the doors, so he'd check each one.) He spent countless hours on his toy phone being a dispatcher. He'd start out making static noises just like on his dad's pager, followed by all the details of the emergency. "Lansing 162 respond to 2715 Ridge Road for an activated alarm. Keyholder indicates that it was activated by accident. Proceed with caution. KDK795." One year for Christmas, he got a set of real firefighter gear - made from the same material as the real stuff, just in a kid size. He LIVED in that gear until he couldn't fit it anymore. Then he'd get the next size. Each fire hydrant in town has a number on it. I could say, "Hey, where is fire hydrant number 168 and he'd tell me the corner of 181st and Roy Street or whatever...and he was usually right. And there are a LOT of fire hydrants in town. Sometimes he'd ask me to take him for a drive just so he could inspect the hydrants and make a mental note. So, he's been quite interested in it for sometime.
As he was growing up, he wanted nothing more than to be a cadet on the same department as Dad. At one time there was a very active cadet program and they took kids starting as freshmen at age 14. Wouldn't you know it...just before he turned 14, the minimum age was changed to 16. Then when he was almost 16, the program faded out. He was pretty bummed. He ended up being a cadet on a couple other area departments and then became eligible to be a paid-on-call firefighter with one of them. It's worked out nicely. In the fall, they sent him to the fire academy and he's actually had several instructors that his dad knows. A couple are his dad's co-workers. This year has flown by and I can't believe he's graduating from the academy.
I remember when his dad went through the fire academy and how excited he was when he finished up and when he got his pager and gear and when he went on his first call and went on his first fire.
A few weeks ago, my son got up one morning with the biggest smile I've seen on him in a while. He said that he'd gone on his first actual fire. He didn't get to go in the building until it was out and he helped with overhaul, but hearing the excitement in his voice as he talked about pulling down a ceiling really confirmed how in love he is with all this firefighting business. I guess I did have a little warning - like 15 years worth of warnings...but it's never long enough and you're never prepared enough to see you son grow up. Time flies!
This is the boy who has been obsessed with firefighting since his dad joined the local fire department as a volunteer when he was 3. His dad enjoyed it, became a part-time, paid-on-call firefighter and later tested for full-time and has now been at it for a decade.
My oldest son had tons of fire truck toys and books and pajamas. He had memorized every piece of apparatus by kindergarten, including how old each vehicle was (the year it went into service was written on the inside of the doors, so he'd check each one.) He spent countless hours on his toy phone being a dispatcher. He'd start out making static noises just like on his dad's pager, followed by all the details of the emergency. "Lansing 162 respond to 2715 Ridge Road for an activated alarm. Keyholder indicates that it was activated by accident. Proceed with caution. KDK795." One year for Christmas, he got a set of real firefighter gear - made from the same material as the real stuff, just in a kid size. He LIVED in that gear until he couldn't fit it anymore. Then he'd get the next size. Each fire hydrant in town has a number on it. I could say, "Hey, where is fire hydrant number 168 and he'd tell me the corner of 181st and Roy Street or whatever...and he was usually right. And there are a LOT of fire hydrants in town. Sometimes he'd ask me to take him for a drive just so he could inspect the hydrants and make a mental note. So, he's been quite interested in it for sometime.
As he was growing up, he wanted nothing more than to be a cadet on the same department as Dad. At one time there was a very active cadet program and they took kids starting as freshmen at age 14. Wouldn't you know it...just before he turned 14, the minimum age was changed to 16. Then when he was almost 16, the program faded out. He was pretty bummed. He ended up being a cadet on a couple other area departments and then became eligible to be a paid-on-call firefighter with one of them. It's worked out nicely. In the fall, they sent him to the fire academy and he's actually had several instructors that his dad knows. A couple are his dad's co-workers. This year has flown by and I can't believe he's graduating from the academy.
I remember when his dad went through the fire academy and how excited he was when he finished up and when he got his pager and gear and when he went on his first call and went on his first fire.
A few weeks ago, my son got up one morning with the biggest smile I've seen on him in a while. He said that he'd gone on his first actual fire. He didn't get to go in the building until it was out and he helped with overhaul, but hearing the excitement in his voice as he talked about pulling down a ceiling really confirmed how in love he is with all this firefighting business. I guess I did have a little warning - like 15 years worth of warnings...but it's never long enough and you're never prepared enough to see you son grow up. Time flies!
Friday, March 1, 2013
What kind of old lady will I be?
Yesterday I dropped off the kids at school and then ran to the grocery store to pick up some things. At that time of day, it's usually quiet...a few young mom and a few seniors making their way slowly through the store.
One lady smiles and makes eye contact and we get stuck at an aisle intersection. As I'm pushing my cart away, I faintly hear her say something, but I think she's talking to someone else. A couple aisles later we meet again. She smiles as she approaches the chip aisle. "You didn't hear me back there. I told you I was going to buy the bad food," she says. Then she proceeds to tell me how good the buffalo flavored pretzels are. We chat for a minute and I move on.
Three more aisles away, we bump into each other again. More conversation. She gives an explanation on why she has two cases of Corona in her cart. :) She tells me how she's turning 64, but she stays active with her grandkids and goes to the gym almost every day and has a drink now and then to "stay loose" instead of shriveling up staying at home and being alone. She looked fantastic (African American women just don't seem to show their age). Then she asked me if I was married and asked if he was a good guy. She told me she had a boyfriend, albeit one who was nine years younger, and that she'd had bad boyfriends in the past, but that this one was worth keeping. She was sweet. After a couple minutes, she was on her way, pushing toward the dairy section as I went toward the check out.
I walked away thinking about her advice on staying active and like I often do when I meet someone like here, I think "that's how I want to be when I'm older." I turned 40 last year and I find myself in kind of a weird spot. Much of the time I feel so much younger than I am...I think I wrote in a blog post before that I still feel about 26 in my mind. There are times when I feel immature, like I need to act my age...stop turning up the car radio so loud, stop laughing so hard at crude scenes in Adam Sandler movies, stop procrastinating about things adults should be motivated to do, like housework.
But, at the same time, I've always felt like an old soul. As a kid I was independent. As soon as I started making my own money with babysitting and a paper route at age 12, I bought everything I needed on my own. I've always been intrigued by history and love listening to oldies tunes. I like to play bingo. I enjoy volunteering. If I could sit still long enough, I could totally see myself knitting or crocheting. As a kid, I always felt more comfortable interacting with adults than peers. By the time I graduated high school, some of my best friends weren't classmates, but women old enough to be my mother or even grandmother - they were co-workers from the district office. I'd worked in the school office for a year-and-a-half before graduating as part of the office education program. I spent my break time sitting among ladies who would chat about Medicare and the benefits of the upcoming early retirement incentive program. I joined the local historical society about 16 years ago...and I'm still the youngest member in the group.
One one hand, I'm starting to feel the affects of age creeping up on me - gray hairs popping up here and there, more wrinkles making their way onto my face, an ache in that left arm on cold days that I broke several years ago. On the other hand, I'm really looking forward to becoming an "old lady." I'm looking forward to the day when fashion will become less important and comfort will prevail. I'm looking forward to being a grandmother. I'm looking forward to the days when the pace will slow and I can walk through the grocery store with no place else to be and give advice to the young moms I see pushing their little ones.
Also, I've gotten more of a glimpse into life over half a century as I've been writing for a senior magazine for more than a dozen years. Each month, I get a couple assignments to find someone 50 or older to write about - sometimes it's their occupation, sometimes it's an unusual hobby, sometimes it's for the sports section. I meet a ton of inspiring seniors and I often find myself thinking, "Gosh I hope I'll be like that when I'm that age."
Once in a while I encounter an older person who is just really grumpy and I just think to myself that they must have had quite a rough life to have that kind of outlook. I'm often right -- when I get more under the surface, I learn that they endured some tough things.
Most often, though, the people I meet are so kind and sweet and I wonder what kind of old lady I'll be. There are so many ways it could go. There are:
The adventurous type who goes cliff diving or para sailing or jumps out of a plane.
The grandmotherly type who makes cookies for all the children in the neighborhood and hands out dollars to them.
The kind who yells at kids to get off the lawn.
One who heads south for the winter.
The kind who sits back quietly in a chair and observes.
The church going old ladies who say "God Bless You" to everyone they meet and sing in the choir and join a bible study.
One who travels the world in old age, going places they've always dreamed about.
The crazy one who dances at weddings with the young whipper snappers.
The kind who will drive 20 miles to go to a store where bread is 30 cents less a loaf (burning $3.80 in gas along the way.)
One who gets 20 cats after she has an empty nest (no never mind - this isn't going to happen. I'm not really fond of cats and will never own more than one dog.)
One who takes up painting or ceramics or some other artistic form.
Someone who travels the country with my husband in an RV.
The kind that doesn't step outside their hometown.
I guess I'll just be me, but with more life experience and hopefully adding more things to the mix that I've wanted to do and put off. I do know that I'm looking forward to it more than I'm interested in finding a fountain of youth.
One lady smiles and makes eye contact and we get stuck at an aisle intersection. As I'm pushing my cart away, I faintly hear her say something, but I think she's talking to someone else. A couple aisles later we meet again. She smiles as she approaches the chip aisle. "You didn't hear me back there. I told you I was going to buy the bad food," she says. Then she proceeds to tell me how good the buffalo flavored pretzels are. We chat for a minute and I move on.
Three more aisles away, we bump into each other again. More conversation. She gives an explanation on why she has two cases of Corona in her cart. :) She tells me how she's turning 64, but she stays active with her grandkids and goes to the gym almost every day and has a drink now and then to "stay loose" instead of shriveling up staying at home and being alone. She looked fantastic (African American women just don't seem to show their age). Then she asked me if I was married and asked if he was a good guy. She told me she had a boyfriend, albeit one who was nine years younger, and that she'd had bad boyfriends in the past, but that this one was worth keeping. She was sweet. After a couple minutes, she was on her way, pushing toward the dairy section as I went toward the check out.
I walked away thinking about her advice on staying active and like I often do when I meet someone like here, I think "that's how I want to be when I'm older." I turned 40 last year and I find myself in kind of a weird spot. Much of the time I feel so much younger than I am...I think I wrote in a blog post before that I still feel about 26 in my mind. There are times when I feel immature, like I need to act my age...stop turning up the car radio so loud, stop laughing so hard at crude scenes in Adam Sandler movies, stop procrastinating about things adults should be motivated to do, like housework.
But, at the same time, I've always felt like an old soul. As a kid I was independent. As soon as I started making my own money with babysitting and a paper route at age 12, I bought everything I needed on my own. I've always been intrigued by history and love listening to oldies tunes. I like to play bingo. I enjoy volunteering. If I could sit still long enough, I could totally see myself knitting or crocheting. As a kid, I always felt more comfortable interacting with adults than peers. By the time I graduated high school, some of my best friends weren't classmates, but women old enough to be my mother or even grandmother - they were co-workers from the district office. I'd worked in the school office for a year-and-a-half before graduating as part of the office education program. I spent my break time sitting among ladies who would chat about Medicare and the benefits of the upcoming early retirement incentive program. I joined the local historical society about 16 years ago...and I'm still the youngest member in the group.
One one hand, I'm starting to feel the affects of age creeping up on me - gray hairs popping up here and there, more wrinkles making their way onto my face, an ache in that left arm on cold days that I broke several years ago. On the other hand, I'm really looking forward to becoming an "old lady." I'm looking forward to the day when fashion will become less important and comfort will prevail. I'm looking forward to being a grandmother. I'm looking forward to the days when the pace will slow and I can walk through the grocery store with no place else to be and give advice to the young moms I see pushing their little ones.
Also, I've gotten more of a glimpse into life over half a century as I've been writing for a senior magazine for more than a dozen years. Each month, I get a couple assignments to find someone 50 or older to write about - sometimes it's their occupation, sometimes it's an unusual hobby, sometimes it's for the sports section. I meet a ton of inspiring seniors and I often find myself thinking, "Gosh I hope I'll be like that when I'm that age."
Once in a while I encounter an older person who is just really grumpy and I just think to myself that they must have had quite a rough life to have that kind of outlook. I'm often right -- when I get more under the surface, I learn that they endured some tough things.
Most often, though, the people I meet are so kind and sweet and I wonder what kind of old lady I'll be. There are so many ways it could go. There are:
The adventurous type who goes cliff diving or para sailing or jumps out of a plane.
The grandmotherly type who makes cookies for all the children in the neighborhood and hands out dollars to them.
The kind who yells at kids to get off the lawn.
One who heads south for the winter.
The kind who sits back quietly in a chair and observes.
The church going old ladies who say "God Bless You" to everyone they meet and sing in the choir and join a bible study.
One who travels the world in old age, going places they've always dreamed about.
The crazy one who dances at weddings with the young whipper snappers.
The kind who will drive 20 miles to go to a store where bread is 30 cents less a loaf (burning $3.80 in gas along the way.)
One who gets 20 cats after she has an empty nest (no never mind - this isn't going to happen. I'm not really fond of cats and will never own more than one dog.)
One who takes up painting or ceramics or some other artistic form.
Someone who travels the country with my husband in an RV.
The kind that doesn't step outside their hometown.
I guess I'll just be me, but with more life experience and hopefully adding more things to the mix that I've wanted to do and put off. I do know that I'm looking forward to it more than I'm interested in finding a fountain of youth.
Friday, February 22, 2013
Taking time when you don't have the time
I so don't have time to be blogging right now. But sometimes when things are at their craziest, that's when you most need to just stop and forget everything for a few minutes. At least that's what I've learned. When I think I don't have a moment to spare...that's really when I need to drop everything and go to lunch with a friend or watch a silly comedy or have a cup of tea and watch some senseless You Tube video. Or sometimes I need to blog and just get everything off my chest. After a little break, I feel so much better and like I have a better handle on things.
My week has been one of running and running and running...it's included taking kids to music lessons, confirmation class, sport sign-ups, doing interviews for work (including a really enjoyable, lengthy, in-person one with a World War II vet -- those always are kind of a slap in the face to count your blessings), doing more shopping than I'm used to, typing up loose ends and attending meetings for upcoming events and programs and meetings, getting ready for a science fair, baking cakes for a Cub Scout dinner (which has an outer space them and has me searching for edible accessories to assemble a replica of our solar system -- the things we do for our kids! LOL), trying to plan out outfits for our seven family members for my sister's upcoming wedding, several work deadlines, trying to keep up on mountains of laundry, reading at my kids' school, corresponding with so many people I just can't keep up (I am averaging 500 new e-mails a day in one of three e-mail inboxes) and I am just totally burned out at the moment.
And as soon as one task is done and I think I can breath, I realize another pressing one needs to be taken care of immediately. The next few days - or weeks for that matter - are looking like much of the same. Tomorrow 3 kids have bowling league, 1 has theatre class, two have an area science fair, two have Cub scout dinner. Have to figure out how to get to as many of those things as possible. Think bowling might have to get crossed off the list. And then Sunday is covering a work event. Monday is a big program I'm helping coordinate for the historical society, Tues, a meeting and being guest speaker at an event, Wed I am a "celebrity" reader for a family reading night, kids activities Thurs, meeting on Fri, work event Sat., big community event Sunday...and it just goes on and on. It's all stuff that I love to do...that's why I just can't say no to any of it. Looking ahead at next month, every day has at least one entry scribbled on the calendar. Some are so full that the writing spills over into the next day. But, I do like to be busy and I am grateful that I have good health and the ability to be busy.
Ok, break time is over. Back to work. :)
My week has been one of running and running and running...it's included taking kids to music lessons, confirmation class, sport sign-ups, doing interviews for work (including a really enjoyable, lengthy, in-person one with a World War II vet -- those always are kind of a slap in the face to count your blessings), doing more shopping than I'm used to, typing up loose ends and attending meetings for upcoming events and programs and meetings, getting ready for a science fair, baking cakes for a Cub Scout dinner (which has an outer space them and has me searching for edible accessories to assemble a replica of our solar system -- the things we do for our kids! LOL), trying to plan out outfits for our seven family members for my sister's upcoming wedding, several work deadlines, trying to keep up on mountains of laundry, reading at my kids' school, corresponding with so many people I just can't keep up (I am averaging 500 new e-mails a day in one of three e-mail inboxes) and I am just totally burned out at the moment.
And as soon as one task is done and I think I can breath, I realize another pressing one needs to be taken care of immediately. The next few days - or weeks for that matter - are looking like much of the same. Tomorrow 3 kids have bowling league, 1 has theatre class, two have an area science fair, two have Cub scout dinner. Have to figure out how to get to as many of those things as possible. Think bowling might have to get crossed off the list. And then Sunday is covering a work event. Monday is a big program I'm helping coordinate for the historical society, Tues, a meeting and being guest speaker at an event, Wed I am a "celebrity" reader for a family reading night, kids activities Thurs, meeting on Fri, work event Sat., big community event Sunday...and it just goes on and on. It's all stuff that I love to do...that's why I just can't say no to any of it. Looking ahead at next month, every day has at least one entry scribbled on the calendar. Some are so full that the writing spills over into the next day. But, I do like to be busy and I am grateful that I have good health and the ability to be busy.
Ok, break time is over. Back to work. :)
Thursday, February 14, 2013
A Valentine's look back at how it all began
I was a quiet, shy 14-year-old high school freshman when I met Paul. My best friend, Jenny, was dating Paul's best friend, Todd, and they introduced us. I met him briefly in March of 1987 when we were all together at a park. Being the shy girl I was, I barely looked his way. I don't think I said a single word to him. A month later, Jenny and Todd invited me to hang out and Paul joined, too. The thing to do at that time if you had a car was to head out to B.A. (a dirty beach in an industrial area on Lake Michigan, which became known as Beercan Alley) and drink or make out or both. We went out to B.A. where the two of us sat on a rock in the cold air. We talked a little. He was a big jokester. I was sure he wouldn't be interested in me. He was a high school senior. Still I sat next to him hoping maybe he'd kiss me. He didn't.
.jpg)
The following Friday night was April 10. This time Jenny and Todd were setting us up on a double date. According to Jenny, he really did like me. When we went to pick him up that night, he wasn't home. Being in the days before cell phones, we had no clue where he was. I was sure I'd been ditched and stood up. We stopped back a couple more times and he wasn't there. I was so disappointed. I wondered where he was.
Before heading home, we made one more stop at Paul's and he was there. It turned out that his sister had a baby that day and he'd become an uncle for the first time. He'd been at the hospital the whole evening. We had a fun time hanging out. The night ended with a little game of "Truth or Dare" in the car in the Denny's parking lot. On a dare, I finally got my kiss. After that we were inseparable.
When I was 16, he proposed to me in a downtown restaurant in front of his sister and grandmother and took me on a carriage ride. I spent the next two years hiding that engagement ring and putting it on my finger as soon as I was out of the house.
Once I graduated high school, we started making wedding plans. He was four years older and by then had a good job and had saved up enough to pay for our wedding, our honeymoon and a down payment on our first home.
So, here we are...it's been almost 26 years since we first met. We've been married for 21 years. We have five children. And it all started with a funny guy trying to make a shy girl laugh.
Over the years we've been through a lot. We continue to grow and learn more about eachother. We continue to fall more in love.
I cherish many things that have occurred over the years, like some of things he says that are so meaningful. One that comes to mind is when I was fretting over people not liking me and that all the writing I was doing was a waste of time. He told me "You don't know how many secret admirers you have. I meet people all the time who see my last name and tell me they love reading your column in the paper." He said that just when I really needed to hear it.
There have been some valentine's days that really stick out. One was before we had kids and I was in college. I'd worked all day and gone straight to classes and didn't see him that day for Valentine's Day. When I got into my car after class, there was a box of candy and a card. I loved that he took time out to go find my car in the parking lot and leave that for me. Another time was when he hid presents for me all over the house and left notes with each one to give clues on where to find the next. It was a fun and well-thought-out scavenger hunt. And another Valentine's I'll never forget was my first as a new mom. He took over baby duty, doing the feeding and bathing and changing of the baby and putting him to bed and filling a bathtub for me with bubbles and rose petals floating on top, surrounded by candles.
After so many years together, I can still get butterflies in my stomach when he looks at me. I miss him so much when we are apart. With over two decades under our belt, it often feels like we're still on our honeymoon. And I hope that feeling never goes away.
.jpg)
Here's us around 1989
And 2013
The following Friday night was April 10. This time Jenny and Todd were setting us up on a double date. According to Jenny, he really did like me. When we went to pick him up that night, he wasn't home. Being in the days before cell phones, we had no clue where he was. I was sure I'd been ditched and stood up. We stopped back a couple more times and he wasn't there. I was so disappointed. I wondered where he was.
Before heading home, we made one more stop at Paul's and he was there. It turned out that his sister had a baby that day and he'd become an uncle for the first time. He'd been at the hospital the whole evening. We had a fun time hanging out. The night ended with a little game of "Truth or Dare" in the car in the Denny's parking lot. On a dare, I finally got my kiss. After that we were inseparable.
When I was 16, he proposed to me in a downtown restaurant in front of his sister and grandmother and took me on a carriage ride. I spent the next two years hiding that engagement ring and putting it on my finger as soon as I was out of the house.
Once I graduated high school, we started making wedding plans. He was four years older and by then had a good job and had saved up enough to pay for our wedding, our honeymoon and a down payment on our first home.
So, here we are...it's been almost 26 years since we first met. We've been married for 21 years. We have five children. And it all started with a funny guy trying to make a shy girl laugh.
Over the years we've been through a lot. We continue to grow and learn more about eachother. We continue to fall more in love.
I cherish many things that have occurred over the years, like some of things he says that are so meaningful. One that comes to mind is when I was fretting over people not liking me and that all the writing I was doing was a waste of time. He told me "You don't know how many secret admirers you have. I meet people all the time who see my last name and tell me they love reading your column in the paper." He said that just when I really needed to hear it.
There have been some valentine's days that really stick out. One was before we had kids and I was in college. I'd worked all day and gone straight to classes and didn't see him that day for Valentine's Day. When I got into my car after class, there was a box of candy and a card. I loved that he took time out to go find my car in the parking lot and leave that for me. Another time was when he hid presents for me all over the house and left notes with each one to give clues on where to find the next. It was a fun and well-thought-out scavenger hunt. And another Valentine's I'll never forget was my first as a new mom. He took over baby duty, doing the feeding and bathing and changing of the baby and putting him to bed and filling a bathtub for me with bubbles and rose petals floating on top, surrounded by candles.
After so many years together, I can still get butterflies in my stomach when he looks at me. I miss him so much when we are apart. With over two decades under our belt, it often feels like we're still on our honeymoon. And I hope that feeling never goes away.
Saturday, February 9, 2013
If it makes you happy
Parents want their kids to be happy. Sometimes they give in a little too much to accommodate their happiness. Sometimes they try to block that happiness in the name of practicality. Sometimes the parents just think they know better.
And it all depends on the stage in parenting and there's a fine line. You can't give kids everything that makes them happy. If we all did that we'd have a society of cranky, sleep deprived, sugar buzzed, lazy kids. We have to step in and steer them in the right direction even if it causes some unhappiness.
When they grow up its an entirely different ball game. They often know better than you do what makes them happy. They still could use our guidance, but once they're past that magic age of 18, your input isn't always what matters most and it doesn't hold the same weight it always did.
Last spring I became the parent of an adult. It still blows my mind that my baby is grown up. And as he neared graduation and I tried to steer him in the direction I thought was best for him, he wasn't interested. He wanted nothing more than to follow in his dad's footsteps and do what he's been dreaming about since he was 3-years-old - being a firefighter.
He'd been a cadet and not long after turning 18 became a probationary firefighter and enrolled in the fire academy. There will always be a part of me inside sighing and wondering why he can't just get a desk job so his mom won't have to worry. But, I don't want him to make me happy. I want him to be happy.
In reality, I am so stinkin' proud. I really am. It's just a lot of worry for one mom with both a husband and a son in a profession that can be pretty dangerous. There is a good amount of downtime and there's a lot of routine stuff that gets done that isn't remotely dangerous, like washing a rig. That's what I tell myself all the time. Then I talk to hubby after a shift and he mentions that he extricated someone from a vehicle or performed CPR on someone and I remember how truly important and amazing the job is that he does everyday and I'm in awe of him.
Last night my son was gone at the fire station until long after I'd been in bed (something that's been hard for me to adjust to), so I didn't see him until this morning. He walked in the room with the biggest smile I think I've ever seen on him. When I asked what was up, he told me he'd gone to his first fire. Ah, I remembered when his dad went on his first call and when he worked his first fire. I understood why he was so excited.
He's literally dreamed of being a firefighter since he was 3. That's when my husband joined the fire department. As a preschooler, he memorized every piece of equipment the department had. He played dispatcher with the phone, taking emergency calls and sending out crews. He dressed in authentic kid-sized turnout gear we bought him and did countless stuffed animal rescues. He attended a local junior fire academy as many times as he could before he got too old for it. Then he went back as a helper. He tagged along as much as he could when his dad was at the firehouse, stopping there with him for a cup of coffee or to check his mailbox. He memorized the numbers on every fire hydrant in town. He was in love at a young age with the fire service and seemed destined to be part of it and as much as I tried to deny it, he's even more in love with it now.
If it was really entirely up to me, he'd be working a desk job right now or away from home on a college campus. But it's not up to me. It's up to him. And really, I do just want for him to be happy no matter what path he chooses. And that smile said it all. He's doing something that makes him happier than I think I've ever seen him. How could I want him to do anything else?
And it all depends on the stage in parenting and there's a fine line. You can't give kids everything that makes them happy. If we all did that we'd have a society of cranky, sleep deprived, sugar buzzed, lazy kids. We have to step in and steer them in the right direction even if it causes some unhappiness.
When they grow up its an entirely different ball game. They often know better than you do what makes them happy. They still could use our guidance, but once they're past that magic age of 18, your input isn't always what matters most and it doesn't hold the same weight it always did.
Last spring I became the parent of an adult. It still blows my mind that my baby is grown up. And as he neared graduation and I tried to steer him in the direction I thought was best for him, he wasn't interested. He wanted nothing more than to follow in his dad's footsteps and do what he's been dreaming about since he was 3-years-old - being a firefighter.
He'd been a cadet and not long after turning 18 became a probationary firefighter and enrolled in the fire academy. There will always be a part of me inside sighing and wondering why he can't just get a desk job so his mom won't have to worry. But, I don't want him to make me happy. I want him to be happy.
In reality, I am so stinkin' proud. I really am. It's just a lot of worry for one mom with both a husband and a son in a profession that can be pretty dangerous. There is a good amount of downtime and there's a lot of routine stuff that gets done that isn't remotely dangerous, like washing a rig. That's what I tell myself all the time. Then I talk to hubby after a shift and he mentions that he extricated someone from a vehicle or performed CPR on someone and I remember how truly important and amazing the job is that he does everyday and I'm in awe of him.
Last night my son was gone at the fire station until long after I'd been in bed (something that's been hard for me to adjust to), so I didn't see him until this morning. He walked in the room with the biggest smile I think I've ever seen on him. When I asked what was up, he told me he'd gone to his first fire. Ah, I remembered when his dad went on his first call and when he worked his first fire. I understood why he was so excited.
He's literally dreamed of being a firefighter since he was 3. That's when my husband joined the fire department. As a preschooler, he memorized every piece of equipment the department had. He played dispatcher with the phone, taking emergency calls and sending out crews. He dressed in authentic kid-sized turnout gear we bought him and did countless stuffed animal rescues. He attended a local junior fire academy as many times as he could before he got too old for it. Then he went back as a helper. He tagged along as much as he could when his dad was at the firehouse, stopping there with him for a cup of coffee or to check his mailbox. He memorized the numbers on every fire hydrant in town. He was in love at a young age with the fire service and seemed destined to be part of it and as much as I tried to deny it, he's even more in love with it now.
If it was really entirely up to me, he'd be working a desk job right now or away from home on a college campus. But it's not up to me. It's up to him. And really, I do just want for him to be happy no matter what path he chooses. And that smile said it all. He's doing something that makes him happier than I think I've ever seen him. How could I want him to do anything else?
Life is like a box of chocolates
Life is like a box of chocolates. I always loved that line from Mama Gump that Tom Hanks would repeat. (Insert Southern Drawl...) "Mama always said, 'Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get."
The year has started off much that way. You never know. One day things are smooth sailing. The next, you're in a room in ICU wearing a facemask. That's how the new year started off. Three days in, the kids had been off school. We'd just returned from a nice little family trip to Amish Country right after Christmas. It had been a nice holiday. I made some resolutions (all related to my foodie blog), so hubby and I had gone out for a nice dinner using a gift card I'd won for an online recipe contest. Things were going good.
Then as I was waltzing through KMart with two of the boys who were eager to spend their Christmas Cash, I noticed I had a voice mail. My husband was taking my father-in-law to the hospital. He was conscious, but just not responding to anything. He has stage 4 lung cancer and had just finished up his chemotherapy and radiation treatments, but we'd seen him on Christmas and he talked about how he hadn't seen much as far as side effects other than some weight loss. I'm sure there was more to it, but he didn't say so. Anyway, it turned out he was dehydrated and we thought some fluids would get him back on the right track. But then there was an infection he was fighting. And chest pains. And very low blood counts, causing the need for transfusions. And just more and more bad news. He wasn't eating, was terribly thin, had lost much of his hair and I suspect as a side effect of the medications was in a scary state with eyes rolling all over, not talking. Things gradually got a little better, but it was apparent that he wouldn't be back to the guy he was before he went into the hospital. He's improving little by little, but after more than 3 weeks of laying in a bed, getting up and moving again is moving slowly.
He's in home hospice care and improving a little with time. Although we know he has cancer and know that it isn't curable, you just don't expect someone to be walking and talking and going about life one day and barely hanging on the next. And it's been difficult for the kids to witness.
Yes, life is like box of chocolates. You never know what you're going to get. But it is full of sweet stuff that you need to sink your teeth into while you have the chance. Those chocolates might not be there tomorrow. But right now they're in front of you to enjoy. Seize the day and don't let that box of chocolates get away even if it throws you some curveballs.
The year has started off much that way. You never know. One day things are smooth sailing. The next, you're in a room in ICU wearing a facemask. That's how the new year started off. Three days in, the kids had been off school. We'd just returned from a nice little family trip to Amish Country right after Christmas. It had been a nice holiday. I made some resolutions (all related to my foodie blog), so hubby and I had gone out for a nice dinner using a gift card I'd won for an online recipe contest. Things were going good.
Then as I was waltzing through KMart with two of the boys who were eager to spend their Christmas Cash, I noticed I had a voice mail. My husband was taking my father-in-law to the hospital. He was conscious, but just not responding to anything. He has stage 4 lung cancer and had just finished up his chemotherapy and radiation treatments, but we'd seen him on Christmas and he talked about how he hadn't seen much as far as side effects other than some weight loss. I'm sure there was more to it, but he didn't say so. Anyway, it turned out he was dehydrated and we thought some fluids would get him back on the right track. But then there was an infection he was fighting. And chest pains. And very low blood counts, causing the need for transfusions. And just more and more bad news. He wasn't eating, was terribly thin, had lost much of his hair and I suspect as a side effect of the medications was in a scary state with eyes rolling all over, not talking. Things gradually got a little better, but it was apparent that he wouldn't be back to the guy he was before he went into the hospital. He's improving little by little, but after more than 3 weeks of laying in a bed, getting up and moving again is moving slowly.
He's in home hospice care and improving a little with time. Although we know he has cancer and know that it isn't curable, you just don't expect someone to be walking and talking and going about life one day and barely hanging on the next. And it's been difficult for the kids to witness.
Yes, life is like box of chocolates. You never know what you're going to get. But it is full of sweet stuff that you need to sink your teeth into while you have the chance. Those chocolates might not be there tomorrow. But right now they're in front of you to enjoy. Seize the day and don't let that box of chocolates get away even if it throws you some curveballs.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)