I got addicted to the warm fuzzies a long time ago. I was in junior high and my parents dropped my sister and I off at Target with $20 each to do our Christmas shopping. When we left the store, I gave the Salvation Army man $5. I remember being instantly pleased and excited. I couldn’t wait for my parents to pick me up so I could tell them what I had done.
Their response wasn’t what I expected. In fact, they informed me that I was probably paying the man with the bell his salary. But it didn’t matter what they said. It was too late and I was already hooked.
I’ve been thinking for a while now what I could write about Thanksgiving. I didn’t want some essay about how thankful I am for my family or why we should be thankful each day of the year. And today, it finally hit me.
As I was exiting the freeway to do a little shopping I saw something that caught my eye at the end of the off ramp. It wasn’t a handicapped veteran or a twitching, skinny drug-user. She was well nourished. Her two children sat on the gravel with a blanket covering their faces. She held a cardboard sign and even still I don’t know what it said. But it didn’t matter, I knew she needed help. Perhaps she was just kicked out of her home or her husband just lost his job. Here she was, the week before Thanksgiving, realizing she was not going to be able to make ends meet. And her children sat and watched as their mother begged. The situation appeared pretty desperate.
I gave her money. I write this not to toot my own horn or to place myself on a pedestal. I say this to prove one point. I made a difference in her life. I impacted her. All because I have realized that this woman and her children are my friends and my neighbors. These people are in my country and my responsibility.
I’ve heard the arguments. What if these people use the money for alcohol or perhaps don’t even really need the money? However, say that this money will never go towards what you intended it to. I would like to think that when you give your resources, others will see you. You will remind them of the importance of changing lives and perhaps encourage them to invest themselves in others.
I always hear how horrible people think our world is. And with natural disaster, school shootings, terrorism and what seems like never ending poverty, I see it. I can understand why so often this world seems like such a tough place to live. I can understand why a mother may be struggling to put a Thanksgiving dinner on the table for her children. But I will no longer sit and listen to what a horrible world this is and not attempt to change it. Because I have realized it does not have to be like this. If you are complaining about the way things are, what have you done to change them?
Giving a woman cash will not end poverty. But it will remind her that people love her. Perhaps with the help of others, she will be able to have a Thanksgiving dinner now. Her life will be changed, maybe forever.
I don’t get warm fuzzies anymore. And I’m glad, because I wouldn’t want to be doing something like this just because it makes me feel good. I don’t know about anyone else, but I am ready for things to start changing in this world. And if you think that you can’t make a difference, you probably never will. But I hope everyone can understand that the smallest donation of yourself can make a huge difference in the world.
With the holiday season in full gear, remember your friends and neighbors. Realize that you can change this world. If you feel overwhelmed, just start small. Start with one person. If you don’t, who will?
I’m glad I saw that woman.
This Thanksgiving, I am thankful for people standing at the end of freeway off ramps.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Monday, October 5, 2009
The Pregnancy Effect
Pregnancy really changes you. I'm not talking about the extra lbs, the forgetfulness or being prone to regular tearfests. I mean as a person, I feel like I'm really changing and I feel like those changes are changes that are going to stick with me for the rest of my entire life.
Knowing a real life human being is growing inside you and waiting for her mom and dad to show her what life is all about can consume a lot of your thoughts. Rather than thinking about what to wear to work or what my next vacation will be, I'm trying to figure out how in the world babies don't come with some kind of training manual.
Pregnancy has definitely given me a new perspective on strength. At my job, when my boss says something to me that's fairly condescending, I've learned to write it off as "he's just having a bad day" or "he doesn't understand American business culture." To be completely honest, I've always kind of prided myself in being able to ignore those comments and move on with a productive work day. But for some reason, ever since being pregnant, I can't help but think of my baby girl when my boss says something uncalled for. I hope she doesn't have a boss like my boss because she wouldn't ever deserve to be talked to that way. And I hope that she wouldn't sit there and make excuses for him. I'd hope she would stick up for herself. These thoughts have given me the strength to realize that it's not okay for him to talk to me rudely, whether he's having a bad day or not. And next time it happens, I think I'll have the strength to let him know.
Pregnancy has given me a new perspective on patience. This is a tough one for me because I think that since being pregnant, I've become more impatient. But in those moments where I let my patience run out, I think of my little girl and the kind of example I'm being. It's annoying working on the 10th floor and having to stop 7 times on the way up because the people on levels 1-3 don't want to talk the stairs, EVER. But at the same time, those 7 steps may only delay me an entire two minutes. When I think of my little girl working on the 10th floor somewhere, I hope she smiles at every single person who goes in and out of that elevator while she patiently waits. I do intend on working on my patience issues really soon. Really soon.
Pregnancy has given me a new perspective on being a dog owner. I won't even try to deny it for a second. My dogs always knew that if they wanted something, the only one they were going to get it from was me. A long time ago I made the mistake of thinking it was cute when our lab jumped into his own chair each night to sleep in. And now, two years later, he thinks he owns it. But those sweet, cuddly faces never worked on my husband. He's always been firm with our dogs and thank goodness, because it's paid off. But I now have less tolerance for both the dogs pretending they can't hear me when I tell them to sit down. And while I would much rather lie on the couch and ignore the fact that they are ignoring me, I get up when I'm tired and force them to lie down. I even spent a half hour with our lab teaching him to lie down one day. Before pregnancy I was a very passive dog parent, but being pregnant and imagining all the energy I'm going to need to spend disciplining my little one has given me a new perspective on managing my dogs.
Not all the changes I've endured during pregnancy are this heartfelt. I've suddenly become a devoted fan to iced tea, green chilies and chicken noodle soup. Even more shocking, I just may be moving my coffee obsession down the street to Coffee Bean instead of Starbucks- a change not even I saw coming. But, I'm enjoying that being pregnant is allowing me to constantly reflect on my own thoughts and actions. I'd always thought I would spend the majority of my time reading baby books and learning just the right way to get a baby to fall asleep. Instead, I've spent most of time reflecting upon myself and what changes I can make to become a better parent. Thank goodness I've got 4 1/2 months left- I'm going to need every minute of it!
Knowing a real life human being is growing inside you and waiting for her mom and dad to show her what life is all about can consume a lot of your thoughts. Rather than thinking about what to wear to work or what my next vacation will be, I'm trying to figure out how in the world babies don't come with some kind of training manual.
Pregnancy has definitely given me a new perspective on strength. At my job, when my boss says something to me that's fairly condescending, I've learned to write it off as "he's just having a bad day" or "he doesn't understand American business culture." To be completely honest, I've always kind of prided myself in being able to ignore those comments and move on with a productive work day. But for some reason, ever since being pregnant, I can't help but think of my baby girl when my boss says something uncalled for. I hope she doesn't have a boss like my boss because she wouldn't ever deserve to be talked to that way. And I hope that she wouldn't sit there and make excuses for him. I'd hope she would stick up for herself. These thoughts have given me the strength to realize that it's not okay for him to talk to me rudely, whether he's having a bad day or not. And next time it happens, I think I'll have the strength to let him know.
Pregnancy has given me a new perspective on patience. This is a tough one for me because I think that since being pregnant, I've become more impatient. But in those moments where I let my patience run out, I think of my little girl and the kind of example I'm being. It's annoying working on the 10th floor and having to stop 7 times on the way up because the people on levels 1-3 don't want to talk the stairs, EVER. But at the same time, those 7 steps may only delay me an entire two minutes. When I think of my little girl working on the 10th floor somewhere, I hope she smiles at every single person who goes in and out of that elevator while she patiently waits. I do intend on working on my patience issues really soon. Really soon.
Pregnancy has given me a new perspective on being a dog owner. I won't even try to deny it for a second. My dogs always knew that if they wanted something, the only one they were going to get it from was me. A long time ago I made the mistake of thinking it was cute when our lab jumped into his own chair each night to sleep in. And now, two years later, he thinks he owns it. But those sweet, cuddly faces never worked on my husband. He's always been firm with our dogs and thank goodness, because it's paid off. But I now have less tolerance for both the dogs pretending they can't hear me when I tell them to sit down. And while I would much rather lie on the couch and ignore the fact that they are ignoring me, I get up when I'm tired and force them to lie down. I even spent a half hour with our lab teaching him to lie down one day. Before pregnancy I was a very passive dog parent, but being pregnant and imagining all the energy I'm going to need to spend disciplining my little one has given me a new perspective on managing my dogs.
Not all the changes I've endured during pregnancy are this heartfelt. I've suddenly become a devoted fan to iced tea, green chilies and chicken noodle soup. Even more shocking, I just may be moving my coffee obsession down the street to Coffee Bean instead of Starbucks- a change not even I saw coming. But, I'm enjoying that being pregnant is allowing me to constantly reflect on my own thoughts and actions. I'd always thought I would spend the majority of my time reading baby books and learning just the right way to get a baby to fall asleep. Instead, I've spent most of time reflecting upon myself and what changes I can make to become a better parent. Thank goodness I've got 4 1/2 months left- I'm going to need every minute of it!
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Breaking Promises
These last few days, I've had a few things rest very heavily on my heart. It all started with a conversation I had with my husband over the weekend that led me to reflect upon the life that I have been living.
It seems that lately, I've been a bit ungrateful. Since being pregnant, I think I've experienced every emotion under the moon. I've felt excitement, nervousness, uneasiness, sadness, irritabilty, etc. And because I'm pregnant, I've pitied myself in these emotions. I've told myself that my reactions and feelings are justified "because I'm pregnant". It's okay if I get annoyed at the barista for making my coffee so slow, "because I'm pregnant". I'm allowed to leave all my household chores for my husband, "because I'm pregnant".
And while that all might not seem so bad, and while my husband sweetly allows me to delve into those emotions each and everytime I wish, I can't help but have a bit of guilt. Let me explain.
Last November, we made the decision to go off birth control and try and start a family. Month after month we saw negative pregnancy tests. After five months of trying, I made an appointment with my doctor and my husband and I started researching infertility options. For a moment, not being able to conceive became a very real thought in my mind. I remember thinking that I would give anything to have a positive pregnancy test. I told myself that I wouldn't mind being nauseous everyday, if it meant that I could see that plus sign. I recall telling myself that I would never take being pregnant for granted and that I would enjoy every single second of it knowing how lucky I was to have conceived. That next month, we got to experience the overwhelming joys of a positive pregnancy test. Fast forward three months later, and here I am rolling my eyes at the woman in line at Target for writing a check.
While breaking a promise you make to someone else never feels good, there is no greater disappointment than failing yourself. Upon coming to this conclusion, I can't help but be a bit angry with myself for straying so far from my promises. How will I teach my own child about compassion and selflessness, when it's something I've come to lack? While none of this sits well with me, I've found hope in the words of H.Stanley Judd:
Don't be afraid to fail. Don't waste energy trying to cover up failure. Learn from your failures and go on to the next challenge. It's OK to fail. If you're not failing, you're not growing.
On a happier note, I'm so glad that I've come to this realization now, with five more months of pregnancy left. I promise to make the most of this experience and become a better person because of it. I know this is all part of a greater plan, prepping me to become the best parent I can. I'm okay with failing, as long as I am growing.
-ap
It seems that lately, I've been a bit ungrateful. Since being pregnant, I think I've experienced every emotion under the moon. I've felt excitement, nervousness, uneasiness, sadness, irritabilty, etc. And because I'm pregnant, I've pitied myself in these emotions. I've told myself that my reactions and feelings are justified "because I'm pregnant". It's okay if I get annoyed at the barista for making my coffee so slow, "because I'm pregnant". I'm allowed to leave all my household chores for my husband, "because I'm pregnant".
And while that all might not seem so bad, and while my husband sweetly allows me to delve into those emotions each and everytime I wish, I can't help but have a bit of guilt. Let me explain.
Last November, we made the decision to go off birth control and try and start a family. Month after month we saw negative pregnancy tests. After five months of trying, I made an appointment with my doctor and my husband and I started researching infertility options. For a moment, not being able to conceive became a very real thought in my mind. I remember thinking that I would give anything to have a positive pregnancy test. I told myself that I wouldn't mind being nauseous everyday, if it meant that I could see that plus sign. I recall telling myself that I would never take being pregnant for granted and that I would enjoy every single second of it knowing how lucky I was to have conceived. That next month, we got to experience the overwhelming joys of a positive pregnancy test. Fast forward three months later, and here I am rolling my eyes at the woman in line at Target for writing a check.
While breaking a promise you make to someone else never feels good, there is no greater disappointment than failing yourself. Upon coming to this conclusion, I can't help but be a bit angry with myself for straying so far from my promises. How will I teach my own child about compassion and selflessness, when it's something I've come to lack? While none of this sits well with me, I've found hope in the words of H.Stanley Judd:
Don't be afraid to fail. Don't waste energy trying to cover up failure. Learn from your failures and go on to the next challenge. It's OK to fail. If you're not failing, you're not growing.
On a happier note, I'm so glad that I've come to this realization now, with five more months of pregnancy left. I promise to make the most of this experience and become a better person because of it. I know this is all part of a greater plan, prepping me to become the best parent I can. I'm okay with failing, as long as I am growing.
-ap
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Lessons In Love
Whatever happened to love? I’m serious. Not like I love to shop or I love my coffee. I mean true, genuine, raw love. Love that never saw race, wrongdoings, inequalities or class. Love that came without asking. It was so undeserving, yet never hard to come by.
This last week I have seen so many people ungrateful, ignorant and completely unforgiving. And no one even noticed. Because now, it’s our way of life.
Spending years in the restaurant business, I had my fair share of rude guests. People were waited on, refills were brought to them and their food was cooked exactly as they like, without them ever lifting a finger. And somehow, they still found ways to complain? Ungrateful.
In the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina I heard a few times too many the phrase, “I can’t help people who aren’t willing to help themselves.” Whatever happened to loving on people whether they wanted it or not? I can think of so many times I’ve sat in my room upset about something that didn't go my way. At that point, I didn’t want advice from my mom or hugs from my friends. But that didn’t stop them. And thank goodness it didn’t, because God knows they got me through it. Understand that these people are going through a whole lot more than that. It wouldn’t catch me by surprise if they didn’t feel like jumping back on their feet and starting their lives all over. But does that mean we shouldn’t love them? Ignorant.
In the end, we all mess up. By no means do I have this life down. I have done things I shouldn’t have and hurt people I never intended to. Hearts are broken, feelings hurt, friendships halted and stereotypes proven. And, the world goes round. And we act as if we are justified when we stop talking to our friends or make bad comments about our co-worker because they were the ones in the wrong. As if we, ourselves, had never told a lie or had a bad thought? Unforgiving.
And what has been most frustrating for me is to see something that is supposed to be there for everyone, only be there for some. Something that should accept everyone, only accept some. Something that was made to love only cause shame and guilt. There are some churches out there that just don't get it. It seems as though the church says, “We will love you and spend time with you, when you become like us.” We use negative terms like “non-christian” or “non-believer” to describe those who don’t think the way we do. We focus on asking the congregation to convert their friends and bring them to church. But it’s not about making sure the numbers are up from last week or that Janet didn’t fall into her same sin again. It’s about going into the world and expressing the love Christ has. We can’t expect the world to come to church. Because the reality is, they won’t. We have to take church to them. Love them, regardless of the way they live their life. Jesus would. Jesus does.
We live in an imperfect world. I’m not sure we will ever see this real love in everyone until heaven is on earth. But, I’ve seen the ways real love can impact a person. I’ve been to the Dominican Republic to serve people. They were so grateful and full of love, they served me. I remember my college roommates collect cans for months to give to the homeless that dug threw the trash. I’ve seen strangers give to other strangers generously, just because they could.
We live in a busy, crazy world. It’s so easy to get caught up in work and life and making a living. But underneath our self-promoting schedules lies the simplicity of life. Love. To those we would call undeserving, ungrateful, ignorant and unforgiving…true love can’t tell.
This last week I have seen so many people ungrateful, ignorant and completely unforgiving. And no one even noticed. Because now, it’s our way of life.
Spending years in the restaurant business, I had my fair share of rude guests. People were waited on, refills were brought to them and their food was cooked exactly as they like, without them ever lifting a finger. And somehow, they still found ways to complain? Ungrateful.
In the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina I heard a few times too many the phrase, “I can’t help people who aren’t willing to help themselves.” Whatever happened to loving on people whether they wanted it or not? I can think of so many times I’ve sat in my room upset about something that didn't go my way. At that point, I didn’t want advice from my mom or hugs from my friends. But that didn’t stop them. And thank goodness it didn’t, because God knows they got me through it. Understand that these people are going through a whole lot more than that. It wouldn’t catch me by surprise if they didn’t feel like jumping back on their feet and starting their lives all over. But does that mean we shouldn’t love them? Ignorant.
In the end, we all mess up. By no means do I have this life down. I have done things I shouldn’t have and hurt people I never intended to. Hearts are broken, feelings hurt, friendships halted and stereotypes proven. And, the world goes round. And we act as if we are justified when we stop talking to our friends or make bad comments about our co-worker because they were the ones in the wrong. As if we, ourselves, had never told a lie or had a bad thought? Unforgiving.
And what has been most frustrating for me is to see something that is supposed to be there for everyone, only be there for some. Something that should accept everyone, only accept some. Something that was made to love only cause shame and guilt. There are some churches out there that just don't get it. It seems as though the church says, “We will love you and spend time with you, when you become like us.” We use negative terms like “non-christian” or “non-believer” to describe those who don’t think the way we do. We focus on asking the congregation to convert their friends and bring them to church. But it’s not about making sure the numbers are up from last week or that Janet didn’t fall into her same sin again. It’s about going into the world and expressing the love Christ has. We can’t expect the world to come to church. Because the reality is, they won’t. We have to take church to them. Love them, regardless of the way they live their life. Jesus would. Jesus does.
We live in an imperfect world. I’m not sure we will ever see this real love in everyone until heaven is on earth. But, I’ve seen the ways real love can impact a person. I’ve been to the Dominican Republic to serve people. They were so grateful and full of love, they served me. I remember my college roommates collect cans for months to give to the homeless that dug threw the trash. I’ve seen strangers give to other strangers generously, just because they could.
We live in a busy, crazy world. It’s so easy to get caught up in work and life and making a living. But underneath our self-promoting schedules lies the simplicity of life. Love. To those we would call undeserving, ungrateful, ignorant and unforgiving…true love can’t tell.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
the Hero
This is a blog I've been thinking about for a long time. Whenever I have an idea, I usually toss it around in my head for a couple days until I think it's ready to write. But this blog, I've been tossing it around in my head for six months. I'm not sure I'll ever be able to do it justice, but I think I'm finally ready to try.
My husband has an incredibly honorable job. He's absolutely willing to risk his life for a stranger and he deals with a lot of bad people on a regular basis to make sure his city is safe. He comforts, he consoles, he teaches, he listens, he disciplines, he protects and so much more.
Being married to a police officer, you get a tiny peek into the world they live in. I'll never know exactly how Ryan feels in the situations he's been in. Because I'll never live it, I know I'll never fully be able to understand the capacity of his job. And I'm okay with that. I understand the importance of him spending time with his fellow officers on and off duty because of the special bond and brotherhood they have. Those officers can understand and encourage Ryan in ways I simply can't.
But, we still debrief together at the end of every shift and I listen and encourage him the way any wife would. And the more we talk, the more I sit in awe of him. On the surface, it's quite evident that being a police officer is a respectable job. I mean, anyone willing to carry a gun and sacrifice his own life for anyone else is honorable. But the mental and physical challenges of what he goes through each night is what truly makes him a hero.
On a regular basis, my husband is dealing with the type of people I hope to never cross paths with: addicts, rapists, robbers, sexual offenders, liars, parolees, cheaters and just plain bad people. He sees the worst of this world- and he's managing it while the rest of us sleep.
And as if this concept wasn't difficult enough for me to grasp, there is one thing that pushes me even further into disbelief. At the end of his day, everyday, he smiles.
Smile? After dealing with people spitting on you, disrespecting you and threatening your life...you can smile? After being exposed to a world that many people cannot even begin to comprehend? A world that some people don't even know exists?
To see how dirty and cold and ruthless this world can be isn't easy. But to be able to take that, and in your mind separate that from the world you live in is an incredible gift.
It's easy for me to look at this world and maintain compassion and hope. After all, I've lived a very lucky and happy life. But to deal with what Ryan deals with and not be jaded and apathetic shows me a true hero.
How he doesn't shove truth in the face of the ignorant boggles my mind. I guess it's because he's such a good person. He understands that the life he sees isn't a life people should have to see. He allows most people to live peacefully in their bubble because he knows that more often than not, they can't handle reality. And while he does all the dirty work each night, he comes home smiling knowing that most people won't ever have to see the things he's seen.
And for that, he's my hero.
My husband has an incredibly honorable job. He's absolutely willing to risk his life for a stranger and he deals with a lot of bad people on a regular basis to make sure his city is safe. He comforts, he consoles, he teaches, he listens, he disciplines, he protects and so much more.
Being married to a police officer, you get a tiny peek into the world they live in. I'll never know exactly how Ryan feels in the situations he's been in. Because I'll never live it, I know I'll never fully be able to understand the capacity of his job. And I'm okay with that. I understand the importance of him spending time with his fellow officers on and off duty because of the special bond and brotherhood they have. Those officers can understand and encourage Ryan in ways I simply can't.
But, we still debrief together at the end of every shift and I listen and encourage him the way any wife would. And the more we talk, the more I sit in awe of him. On the surface, it's quite evident that being a police officer is a respectable job. I mean, anyone willing to carry a gun and sacrifice his own life for anyone else is honorable. But the mental and physical challenges of what he goes through each night is what truly makes him a hero.
On a regular basis, my husband is dealing with the type of people I hope to never cross paths with: addicts, rapists, robbers, sexual offenders, liars, parolees, cheaters and just plain bad people. He sees the worst of this world- and he's managing it while the rest of us sleep.
And as if this concept wasn't difficult enough for me to grasp, there is one thing that pushes me even further into disbelief. At the end of his day, everyday, he smiles.
Smile? After dealing with people spitting on you, disrespecting you and threatening your life...you can smile? After being exposed to a world that many people cannot even begin to comprehend? A world that some people don't even know exists?
To see how dirty and cold and ruthless this world can be isn't easy. But to be able to take that, and in your mind separate that from the world you live in is an incredible gift.
It's easy for me to look at this world and maintain compassion and hope. After all, I've lived a very lucky and happy life. But to deal with what Ryan deals with and not be jaded and apathetic shows me a true hero.
How he doesn't shove truth in the face of the ignorant boggles my mind. I guess it's because he's such a good person. He understands that the life he sees isn't a life people should have to see. He allows most people to live peacefully in their bubble because he knows that more often than not, they can't handle reality. And while he does all the dirty work each night, he comes home smiling knowing that most people won't ever have to see the things he's seen.
And for that, he's my hero.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Becoming Me
To be honest, I've never looked optimistically at becoming older. I always figured that once your kids graduated from high school, there wasn't a whole lot more to look forward to. It's just hard to see the positive side of your metabolism slowing, your skin loosing elasticity, seeing more and more of your friends and family pass on and feeling like you just don't have enough energy to get out of bed.
But recently, through a wonderful stream of events, I'm learning how beautiful growing old really can be.
I've always looked up to my grandpa an incredible amount. He's just one of those people you can't get enough of and nearly everything he says has value. When I was in high school, I gave him a penny with the shape of a cross cut out of it for Christmas. I think I found it at Hallmark and trust me, it barely cost me more than a penny to buy. But on Christmas morning, with tears streaming down his face, you would have thought I'd bought him the world. He loved the penny that much.
And one year on his birthday, I was at a loss for ideas. What do you get for the man that is so content with his life, no material thing could ever make it better? So I gave him some cash, and asked him to do something nice for someone else with it. And a week later my grandpa told me the story of how he took a young man to lunch whom he hardly knew. And that young man will never forget my grandpa's generosity.
And this year, when his last daughter got married, he went to the gym every single week to make sure that he could walk her down the aisle without a cane. I wouldn't mind growing old if I could be like my grandpa.
I also look up to my aunt a lot. In my life, she's been the strongest single woman I've ever known to exist. When I was quite young, she was diagnosed with breast cancer. It didn't phase her. I never remember seeing her mad or upset. She always had a smile on her face. In fact, I remember her letting my sister and I play with her different wigs. While I'm quite sure it was one of the most frightening experiences she's ever been through, she never let us see one ounce of that fear.
But what's even more intriguing about my aunt is that this year, while she was 60 years old, she married the man of her dreams. This is her first marriage and most everyone agrees that this was the perfect time for her and her husband to begin their life together.
You see, if my aunt was only 55 when her and her husband connected, she might have lacked the beauty and life experience she gained during the past 5 years that her husband so deeply fell for.
Perhaps she wouldn't be the person she is today if she didn't endure those experiences and challenges. I'm quite sure God knew all along the two of them would be together. And he knew at what exact time in their lives they would fall madly in love.
My aunt has always been so content and happy with the life she has. She is a fighter and she is a lover. She is a giver but never a taker. I wouldn't mind growing old if I could be like my aunt.
And a blog about growing old wouldn't be complete if I didn't mention my father. When I think of the hardest decisions I've had to make, there isn't one that will ever come close to the decisions my dad has made.
When I was graduating high school, my dad's company had made the decision to relocate to Texas. All jobs, including his, would no longer be out of California. Our family was faced with one of the toughest decisions I think we've faced as a family. And my parents spent so much time agonizing over that decision. There was no shortage on tears, worries or prayer. After much prayer and consideration, my parents decided the family would relocate to Texas. And that evening, on deadline, my father called his boss and said he would accept the offer and transfer to Texas. And to our surprise, his boss said he could see how much trouble our family was having to make this decision. And, he offered us one more day to think about it. That extra day was the day that changed everything.
I don't know what is was about that day. But I know my father called his boss and told him the family would stay. We all knew what that meant. If the family would stay, my dad would no longer have a job. But that day, my dad made a decision to be a father, a husband and a leader over a businessman with a nice house and perhaps no worries about where the next paycheck would come. That day my dad chose family.
I'll never ever forget the decision my dad made that day. As Ryan and I grow older, I hope that one day we will have the courage to stick up for our family in the face of adversity. I hope we will chose family over any amount of money or the comfort of having a job. I wouldn't mind growing old if I could be like my father.
While I don't know much about growing old, there is one thing I know for certain. The older I get, the more I will become the person I was made to be. I'll end with the quote that inspired this blog:
Erich Fromm
But recently, through a wonderful stream of events, I'm learning how beautiful growing old really can be.
I've always looked up to my grandpa an incredible amount. He's just one of those people you can't get enough of and nearly everything he says has value. When I was in high school, I gave him a penny with the shape of a cross cut out of it for Christmas. I think I found it at Hallmark and trust me, it barely cost me more than a penny to buy. But on Christmas morning, with tears streaming down his face, you would have thought I'd bought him the world. He loved the penny that much.
And one year on his birthday, I was at a loss for ideas. What do you get for the man that is so content with his life, no material thing could ever make it better? So I gave him some cash, and asked him to do something nice for someone else with it. And a week later my grandpa told me the story of how he took a young man to lunch whom he hardly knew. And that young man will never forget my grandpa's generosity.
And this year, when his last daughter got married, he went to the gym every single week to make sure that he could walk her down the aisle without a cane. I wouldn't mind growing old if I could be like my grandpa.
I also look up to my aunt a lot. In my life, she's been the strongest single woman I've ever known to exist. When I was quite young, she was diagnosed with breast cancer. It didn't phase her. I never remember seeing her mad or upset. She always had a smile on her face. In fact, I remember her letting my sister and I play with her different wigs. While I'm quite sure it was one of the most frightening experiences she's ever been through, she never let us see one ounce of that fear.
But what's even more intriguing about my aunt is that this year, while she was 60 years old, she married the man of her dreams. This is her first marriage and most everyone agrees that this was the perfect time for her and her husband to begin their life together.
You see, if my aunt was only 55 when her and her husband connected, she might have lacked the beauty and life experience she gained during the past 5 years that her husband so deeply fell for.
Perhaps she wouldn't be the person she is today if she didn't endure those experiences and challenges. I'm quite sure God knew all along the two of them would be together. And he knew at what exact time in their lives they would fall madly in love.
My aunt has always been so content and happy with the life she has. She is a fighter and she is a lover. She is a giver but never a taker. I wouldn't mind growing old if I could be like my aunt.
And a blog about growing old wouldn't be complete if I didn't mention my father. When I think of the hardest decisions I've had to make, there isn't one that will ever come close to the decisions my dad has made.
When I was graduating high school, my dad's company had made the decision to relocate to Texas. All jobs, including his, would no longer be out of California. Our family was faced with one of the toughest decisions I think we've faced as a family. And my parents spent so much time agonizing over that decision. There was no shortage on tears, worries or prayer. After much prayer and consideration, my parents decided the family would relocate to Texas. And that evening, on deadline, my father called his boss and said he would accept the offer and transfer to Texas. And to our surprise, his boss said he could see how much trouble our family was having to make this decision. And, he offered us one more day to think about it. That extra day was the day that changed everything.
I don't know what is was about that day. But I know my father called his boss and told him the family would stay. We all knew what that meant. If the family would stay, my dad would no longer have a job. But that day, my dad made a decision to be a father, a husband and a leader over a businessman with a nice house and perhaps no worries about where the next paycheck would come. That day my dad chose family.
I'll never ever forget the decision my dad made that day. As Ryan and I grow older, I hope that one day we will have the courage to stick up for our family in the face of adversity. I hope we will chose family over any amount of money or the comfort of having a job. I wouldn't mind growing old if I could be like my father.
While I don't know much about growing old, there is one thing I know for certain. The older I get, the more I will become the person I was made to be. I'll end with the quote that inspired this blog:
"Man's main task in life is to give birth to himself, to become what he
potentially is."
Erich Fromm
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Single Momishness 001
Sometimes I feel like a single mom. What an idiot, I know! The idea is pretty ridiculous seeing as I am not single and I am not a mother. But, if you listen for just a couple paragraphs, I think you might see what I mean.
***
So it's 2:30 a.m. and I'm lying in bed wide awake. Nope I didn't just come home from a crazy night of dancing or cocktails with the girls. I was actually in bed and asleep by 10:00 p.m.
In fact, the evening was pretty low key. I came home, made sure the doors were locked and cooked myself some dinner. I went outside to clean up the dog's mess and then I let them in to play. I did some laundry. Some vaccuming. Walked the dogs. Took out the trash. Popped a Simply Sleep. Checked under the bed. Put the house phone under my pillow. Grabbed the ear plugs, lied in bed and ran my heres what ill do if someone breaks in scenario through my head.
As I lie wide awake, probably from some ridiculous noise I made up in my sleep, my mind begins to swirl. During these moments I always think of my husband who's keeping the streets safe instead of being safely in bed with me. Maybe he's in pursuit of a drunk driver or on a foot chase with a rapist or consoling a family who just lost a loved one or breaking up a party or getting a gun off the street or busting a drug dealer- whatever he's doing, I know he's making this world a better place. And to be quite honest, there isn't anything more admirable than that.
But, being a cop's wife is not for the weak. It means last minute rescheduling of plans because he's stuck at work. Many sleepless nights. Lonely dinners and an empty house 4 nights a week. Talking to your husband for a measely 15 minutes a day until the weekend comes around. Managing a household all on your own. Being a cop's wife is a life that I kind of imagine a single mom living. No offense to any single moms, I know your life is more difficult than I imagine.
But just like a single mom, the circumstances life gives you only provide you with the opportunity to be the best person you can be in this life. I didn't sign up for an easy life or an easy marriage. Life is about trials, conflicts, tough decisions, learning, growing and changing. I can't even begin to count the ways inwhich Ryan's career has changed the person I am. And at the end of the day, I wouldn't trade any sleepless nights or solo dinners in exchange for the woman I've become.
☼ap
***
So it's 2:30 a.m. and I'm lying in bed wide awake. Nope I didn't just come home from a crazy night of dancing or cocktails with the girls. I was actually in bed and asleep by 10:00 p.m.
In fact, the evening was pretty low key. I came home, made sure the doors were locked and cooked myself some dinner. I went outside to clean up the dog's mess and then I let them in to play. I did some laundry. Some vaccuming. Walked the dogs. Took out the trash. Popped a Simply Sleep. Checked under the bed. Put the house phone under my pillow. Grabbed the ear plugs, lied in bed and ran my heres what ill do if someone breaks in scenario through my head.
As I lie wide awake, probably from some ridiculous noise I made up in my sleep, my mind begins to swirl. During these moments I always think of my husband who's keeping the streets safe instead of being safely in bed with me. Maybe he's in pursuit of a drunk driver or on a foot chase with a rapist or consoling a family who just lost a loved one or breaking up a party or getting a gun off the street or busting a drug dealer- whatever he's doing, I know he's making this world a better place. And to be quite honest, there isn't anything more admirable than that.
But, being a cop's wife is not for the weak. It means last minute rescheduling of plans because he's stuck at work. Many sleepless nights. Lonely dinners and an empty house 4 nights a week. Talking to your husband for a measely 15 minutes a day until the weekend comes around. Managing a household all on your own. Being a cop's wife is a life that I kind of imagine a single mom living. No offense to any single moms, I know your life is more difficult than I imagine.
But just like a single mom, the circumstances life gives you only provide you with the opportunity to be the best person you can be in this life. I didn't sign up for an easy life or an easy marriage. Life is about trials, conflicts, tough decisions, learning, growing and changing. I can't even begin to count the ways inwhich Ryan's career has changed the person I am. And at the end of the day, I wouldn't trade any sleepless nights or solo dinners in exchange for the woman I've become.
☼ap
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