Tag: Uplifting

Words – Impacting Our Lives

If you did not read last week’s post, Dream Within a Dream, I recommend that you do so before continuing here.

Family gatherings such as weddings, funerals, and reunions, evoke normal emotions of joy, sadness/loss, and “Wow! I haven’t seen her/him forever. My how they’ve changed.” Often, however, they bring deep-seated, maybe suppressed, feelings to the surface. Sometimes they erupt with power and major fallout. Sometimes they rise to the surface and are shared as either fond memories, or with trepidation.

Coming together as a sibling team to transition our Mother to memory care was such an occasion. All preparations culminated in a smooth transfer, even some elation, as we sat around the house reviewing what transpired, and discussing our myriad of emotions.

Over sixty years ago our father died at the age of 37. My eldest sister was 13, followed by another, age nine. I was seven, and my little sister was four. Our young lives were in complete disarray, to say the least. So many confusing events and emotions that children should not have to face, but often do.

It was a few days after Mom’s transfer that our emotional history surfaced when our “little” sister relayed her long-held traumatic experience. “After daddy died we were given a contest on who could be the most help to Mom. At 4 I could not begin to compete… I’ve never felt I could do enough or be enough help.“

My eldest sister responded, “ Interesting about contest-you have probably been trying to catch up your whole life!!!!” And my other sister, “I remember the competition. I cleaned out my drawers over and over again. Maybe that’s why I don’t do it anymore.” The youngest, “I remember you vacuuming.”

My contribution; “And I am still convinced that Mom telling me I had to be the man of the family instilled in me a perfection complex and that I could never do enough or get it right.” My younger sister’s response, “Yes and this role you have now fits right into that. And I didn’t want the role because at some level I felt I couldn’t do it.“

My uncle (my Father’s brother) told me years later that he always felt guilty for telling me that “God needed your daddy more that we do“, thinking that it caused some of my adolescent and young adult challenges. I totally let him off the hook when I told him it was what Mom had said that left the lasting impression.

Though my eldest sister did not relay any deep-held reactionary words, knowing her and with a few faint memories, I am sure that she, being several years older than the rest of us, naturally took on the role of surrogate mother, trying to help our overwhelmed, grieving Mother. Mom had been a stay-at-home mother and was thrust into the role of family provider. Thankfully, her friends came to her aid with a job and other assistance. But my sister was often the oldest person at home. I can also attest that she later raised two amazing daughters of her own. Along with her natural bent, she clearly learned much from her early, traumatic experience.

Yet more impactful words:

Eldest sister – “And Daddy telling J to take care of M!!!“
Middle sister – “Those were his final words to me.“
I chimed in – “And Mom’s first words to me.”
Middle – ” I was thinking that Keith!“
Eldest – “Pretty heavy trips to lay on children!“

Though much of this history was known to us, the vivid memories, complete with mental pictures/video of the events, have rarely been shared all at once and together. This single horrific event was amplified and indelibly printed on our brains – with lifelong impact – by our elder family’s words.

As I look back on my family relationships and rearing my children, I know I have my own gaffs to come to terms with. I’m sure we all do. By this time in our lives, I assume that my sisters and I hold no grudges against those adults in our lives as they were doing the best they could. Imperfectly, as we all are.

But it’s something to consider. Are there unresolved consequences of our words and actions on our parents, siblings, spouses, children? On my part, I hope those I have impacted understand that I never set out to hurt anyone. There are few people who do.

And now I’m off to visit many of those people to celebrate the holidays. For me it is really about celebrating our relationships with each other. I am thankful for each and every one. And I hope that for those whose relationships I may have broken, I might still make amends.

May your holiday season be merry and bright. And may those who love you, and those you love, express impactful words of love and, if necessary, understanding and forgiveness!

Anything and Nothing

Musing to my sister of my difficulty deciding on what to write, she suggested I write about nothing. I could write about anything; too broad. Nothing; too narrow.

Where does that leave me? I guess I’ll try writing anything about nothing in particular. But what does that look like? How would it sound? What can I show that you would want to see?

Samuel Clemens, later known as Mark Twain was born in Florida, Missouri on November 30th 1835. He died on April 21st 1910. Both his birth and death coincided with the perihelion of Halley’s Comet. You can read a short, but interesting bio here. Do you know how he came about with the name Mark Twain? I’ve always been intrigued by these tidbits of trivia.

Writing about domestic politics and issues, or world events, is too fraught with diverse and conflicting opinions to share my thoughts and opinions thereof. It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World! Different subject, but it sounds right.

I’m having even more trouble than usual getting into the holiday spirit. I’ve never been good at it on my own, but Pam made it exciting and fun by her joy and enthusiasm, and her loving, giving nature. I don’t think I’m a scrooge. I don’t use any form of the term “bah, humbug”, but I suppose that I come across that way sometimes.

By this date of the year, we would already have at least one card table set up with scotch tape dispensers (Yes, multiple. Got to have the double-sided variety too.), ribbon spools, straight and squiggle-cutting scissors, you get the idea. And it’s not just the big gifts. It’s the little “stocking stuffers” that often delighted her most.

I left home with four inches of snow on the ground. It was a deep and wide swath, as I was through Missouri and into southern Illinois before the last traces disappeared in the fields and in the wooded hills. Enjoying the landscape and topography along the highways and byways as I drive is still a life’s little pleasure for me. I am constantly reminded of how much Pam enjoyed the scenery and we so enjoyed experiencing our travels together.

I also realized on Thursday the extent to which caring for Pam during her illness and grieving for her (and myself) after her death, zapped my energy. Now, however, I am being energized, and I like to think it is her universal energy, through pleasant memories of her, and of our life together. I recognize how her energy enlivens me still. It doesn’t make the pain go away, but I think it does put salve on the wound.

I hope to have something specific to write about next week, rather than anything about nothing. I will try to convey the experience of transitioning my Mother from home care to memory care. But it may be too raw to put into words yet at that time. Meanwhile I continue to consider topics to write about because I enjoy the writing. And based on reader responses, you enjoy it too.

Well, I kind of wrote about anything. But it turned out not to be about nothing. Now that I think about it, that’s difficult to do. If you get nothing out of the reading but enjoyment, that’s something too. In fact, that’s everything my writing is about. And that’s not nothing either.

Boys On Bikes

NOTE: This is not the subject planned for release this week. But the experience is too good not to share. Stay tuned for what will likely be a two-part travel log beginning next week (Sorry, Jan).

A Ray of Hope in a Troubled World

Back in June, when I was in Clear Lake for the Galilean gig, a woman came up to me where I was playing guitar on a park bench at the sea wall to put a $5 bill in my guitar case. I’m a professional! I told her it wasn’t necessary but she dropped it in the case anyway. It is still there as a reminder that what I do matters in some way to others.

On Wednesday of this week I was playing music in the garage as is my usual daily venue, but with the added activity of smoking chicken hind quarters on my Weber. It was after five in the afternoon, the normal time when parents with babies in buggies, parents with dogs, children and adults on motorized skateboards, bicycles, and scooters, all enter and exit the park on the walkway across from my driveway. And though many wave and smile, few stop to listen or interact with me in any other way.

Two boys on bikes were lingering a few hundred feet away on the walkway. Then, here they came, stopping at the street to make sure it was clear of the vehicles that travel much too fast on the long, straight residential street. They appeared to be between 10 and 12 years old. I was still playing as they entered the driveway, talking at me though I could not hear what they said. I finally stopped playing.

Cynical me started thinking of all the things kids might say and do that, frankly, I might have done as a youth. So when the taller, blond boy asked “Do you mind if I ask you something, not trying to be mean?”, my mind began to race. Would he complain about the smoke, or chastise me for using the smoker in the garage? Or would he complain that I was too loud playing, telling me to keep it down, that I might be disturbing those who were taking advantage of the beautiful day in the park. I feigned a smile and said “sure.”

“Would it be okay to give you some money for playing so good?” the boy asked while holding out his hand. The second, shorter, dark-haired boy chimed in to say, “It’s only change, about 45 cents.”

My heart melted as I looked at these two young men sincerely offering to reward my playing with what might be their soda or candy money. Of course, I declined their offer. Thanking them for the gesture. “Just your offer is wonderful. No other payment is necessary. Really, it means a lot to me.”, I said as they mounted their bikes to leave. The blond with the change smiled as they rode away.

I know I am not alone in being too quick to judge others before knowing their hearts. Preconceived notions based on my own ignorance and fear. Somehow I know that my aging has something to do with making it worse. Two young men who might have been here to harass me, instead gave me a huge compliment.

A ray of hope in a troubled world. These two youth (or “yoots(s)” as Joe Pesci would say in My Cousin Vinny) are part of the future of our society, our planet! Maybe not all is lost for them. It is nice to see some good in the midst of the negative news of our day. May yours be also blessed!