Saturday, January 25, 2014
Happy Birthday Mom
Today would be Mom's 73rd birthday. She would have awoken to the red roses from her anniversary earlier this week and scrambled to get Scooter ready for his morning walk. After a light breakfast that would have left the hummingbirds flying outside the porch window hungry, she would assumed her place along the neighbor-lined streets of brookview.
It has been cold here, so I imagine her wearing the periwinkle and snowflake fleece sweater from Talbots that I gave her one Christmas. We always tried to gift clothes, but neither recipient actually liked the gift so this one stood out to me....because she liked it and wore it often.
I see a cream headband worn over her ears and some over sized men's gloves on her hands. She never wasted money on things she did not absolutely need, so these items were re-purposed from garage sales or left ofter items from past relatives.
I imagine her clumsily carrying her cellphone as she tries to manage the dog leash. Scooter always pulls to go forward, being quite disrespectful of her need to socialize with the many friends that she met along the way.
After the one loop walk where she held court as the reigning socialite of Vinings, mom would have settled in for a snuggle with Dad and her disgusting decaffeinated coffee, sprinkled with cinnamon to attempt to disguise the lack of flavor.
The calls would start to come in...from my Grandmother, from Judy and Jane and Hayes....and my uncles - blood and adopted friends - would pop in with a loving rat-a-tat-tat knock knock knock at the somewhat hollow wooden door.
Each time, as the crowd of well-wishers grew, she would lovingly greet them and invite them to stay for a while.
But, today began a little differently this year. I woke with the excitement of a special day, only to have a heart sinking moment where I realized that it would be another day without my mom. Another day without mom at special friends' day at the childrens' schools. Another day where I start to pick up the phone and have already dialed her cell before I realize that she cannot answer.
So, I snuggle back into my down comforter for a while in order to drift back into my dream....the one where my mom has already called me at 7am on a Saturday to see if I would wish her a happy birthday...where I see her pacing in front of the greenhouse windowbox and leaned up against the kitchen counter as she sips that god awful coffee...and I smile.
We all miss you Mom. and yes, I did wish you a Happy Birthday this morning on that phone call in my dream. I somehow know that you got the message.
Sunday, July 14, 2013
My GiGi - how GREAT thou were
Some people are fortunate to have one mother in their life...I have had three.
Last night, my "third" mother passed away in her sleep....after a month of heartbreaking decline.
My grandmother was more than just a grandparent. She was my foundation. She was "my birthday girl" and the voice in my head.
When I was adopted, my grandmother named me. She picked my nickname, and she taught me how to read. I was her "pink princess" who would hide under her bridge table and serve her friends table sandwiches.
I would spend my summers with her, chasing fireflies in her backyard at night and listening to stories on records. During the day, she would challenge my reading, teach me about the Stock Market, and prune the hydrangeas in her secret garden.
She was very modest, perhaps it was because she was just 3 pounds when she was born. I always found it funny that someone who felt so small could run my family with an iron first.
She made me memorize bible verses and sing in the choir at her church. She picked my college and, she often said, she picked my husband too. :)
She always had something to say, an opinion to share. She never did care with whom she shared those opinions....with the CEO of Coke, the Governor of Georgia, or the Queen of England! She was the truest of true Southern ladies - sweet and gentle but tough as nails.
"GiGi" was an artistic soul. She learned to paint later in life, but her passion for dollhouses and miniatures began in my youth. She could make paper and clay flower arrangements for the miniature shows, even teaching me in my teens to do it as well. I still remember baking the flowers in her gas oven and the smell of it wofting though her house.
She was home to me. No matter where I went in the world, I would always come home to her and the peace I felt in her home....unless it was "Young and the Restless" time...and then one dared not to interrupt her.
Grandmommie taught me how to endure life's challenges. She lost both of her daughters, her husband, and most of her friends in her life. The pain of losing Peggy and Mom was unbearable. But she would pull herself together and put on her bright red lipstick when she went out...because you never know who you might see...
She was 95 years young, and she lived independently until four weeks ago. No one, I mean, no one, could tell her what to do. She was in charge and she lived her life the way she wanted....and we all lived our lives the way she wanted us to as well!
When I announced I was pregnant with my first child, she exclaimed - "I have waited my whole life for someone to have to call me GREAT!" and what a great-grandmother she was. My kids were blessed to get to know her the way that I had known her as a child...hearing stories from her childhood, learning to read with her, and playing in her garden.
Last night, my "third" mother passed away in her sleep....after a month of heartbreaking decline.
My grandmother was more than just a grandparent. She was my foundation. She was "my birthday girl" and the voice in my head.
When I was adopted, my grandmother named me. She picked my nickname, and she taught me how to read. I was her "pink princess" who would hide under her bridge table and serve her friends table sandwiches.
I would spend my summers with her, chasing fireflies in her backyard at night and listening to stories on records. During the day, she would challenge my reading, teach me about the Stock Market, and prune the hydrangeas in her secret garden.
She was very modest, perhaps it was because she was just 3 pounds when she was born. I always found it funny that someone who felt so small could run my family with an iron first.
She made me memorize bible verses and sing in the choir at her church. She picked my college and, she often said, she picked my husband too. :)
She always had something to say, an opinion to share. She never did care with whom she shared those opinions....with the CEO of Coke, the Governor of Georgia, or the Queen of England! She was the truest of true Southern ladies - sweet and gentle but tough as nails.
"GiGi" was an artistic soul. She learned to paint later in life, but her passion for dollhouses and miniatures began in my youth. She could make paper and clay flower arrangements for the miniature shows, even teaching me in my teens to do it as well. I still remember baking the flowers in her gas oven and the smell of it wofting though her house.
She was home to me. No matter where I went in the world, I would always come home to her and the peace I felt in her home....unless it was "Young and the Restless" time...and then one dared not to interrupt her.
Grandmommie taught me how to endure life's challenges. She lost both of her daughters, her husband, and most of her friends in her life. The pain of losing Peggy and Mom was unbearable. But she would pull herself together and put on her bright red lipstick when she went out...because you never know who you might see...
She was 95 years young, and she lived independently until four weeks ago. No one, I mean, no one, could tell her what to do. She was in charge and she lived her life the way she wanted....and we all lived our lives the way she wanted us to as well!
When I announced I was pregnant with my first child, she exclaimed - "I have waited my whole life for someone to have to call me GREAT!" and what a great-grandmother she was. My kids were blessed to get to know her the way that I had known her as a child...hearing stories from her childhood, learning to read with her, and playing in her garden.
Thursday, November 24, 2011
A Testament of Thanks & Love
Last night, my mother won a seat at Christ's Thanksgiving feast.
She had already polished the silver water goblets, placed the deep red table cloth on the table, and prepared her green bean casserole.
She is busy making sure that the carpet is vacuumed, that her hair is curled, and that the half decaf pots of coffee are spiced with a little cinnamon.
She has already called me to remind me what time to arrive at the house and chuckling that she knows that we will be late.
She is wondering if I will remember to bring the mac and cheese for the kids and busily answering the phone as it rings off the hook.
I can imagine that God has asked her to sit down several times, to relax and enjoy the communion with her father and her sister, but God surely knows that Mom will not sit down....she is too glad to be able to walk again, to use her hands to tend to those she loves. And, He certainly knows she is too stubborn to listen.
She is smiling and laughing, swaying back and forth as she listens to Elvis's "Blue Christmas" played live...maybe this is really why she won't sit down at the table yet....she is probably thrilled to see Elvis sing live instead of the fake Elvis from Johnny's Hideaway!
I know she is sorry that she cannot hug and kiss each of the grand kids as we arrive to the house in Atlanta. I know that she grieves for the sorrow that her mom and husband feel this morning. But I also know that she is healed, that she can dine at the table of Christ.
When I was little, my mom and I used to argue about days like this. She would have picked out my dress and Buster Brown shoes, along with new tights. I would drag myself into the kitchen in an outfit that I knew that she did not approve of, only to be turned back to my room for something more appropriate. I would have begged her to wear a fancy necklace or bracelet and rifled through her drawers for something sparkly. She would acquiesce, if I put on the lace frilly dress that I loathed.
As an adult, she would be in the kitchen when I arrived and usher the grand kids to the porch to play. She would offer me a cup of that horrible decaf coffee, and we would laugh about how I could smell the difference. She had a twinkle in her eye as she grinned and said it was indeed real coffee. And we would laugh knowing she was fibbing yet again.
She would ask me about work and the kids, but mainly about the kids. Were they doing okay in school? Was J enjoying reading yet? When was A's quiz bowl competition? When was A's cornucopia show and would he be dancing center stage? And then she would grow a little sad when asking about K, knowing that she might not remember her when she got older....
Mom was there when K was born. It was the first time that we allowed her in the delivery room. The hospital had been under strict orders to keep her out, because we knew that the doctors and nurses could not bear the 'direction' she would offer them. When A was born, she was on the other side of the door yelling to them to let her in...When the second was born, she was with dad as he recovered from surgery a few floors below. When J was born, she was with the first two, taking care of them for us. But with K, we had her in the room the whole time.
She cut the cord, and I saw a side of her that I had never seen. An amazing sense of pride and thankfulness.
So, today, my cord has been cut. And I feel that same sense of pride and thankfulness that I was able to have such a great mother, that God scooped me up and placed me in her loving hands. And now, she is in His hands.
So, Mom, sit down at the table. Stop worrying about the cinnamon buns in the oven and the drinks in people's hands. It is time for you to seat at the right hand of the Father and enjoy the feast of Thanksgiving at Christ's table. We are so thankful that you are free of this disease, that we had the time we had with you, and that you are healed.
She had already polished the silver water goblets, placed the deep red table cloth on the table, and prepared her green bean casserole.
She is busy making sure that the carpet is vacuumed, that her hair is curled, and that the half decaf pots of coffee are spiced with a little cinnamon.
She has already called me to remind me what time to arrive at the house and chuckling that she knows that we will be late.
She is wondering if I will remember to bring the mac and cheese for the kids and busily answering the phone as it rings off the hook.
I can imagine that God has asked her to sit down several times, to relax and enjoy the communion with her father and her sister, but God surely knows that Mom will not sit down....she is too glad to be able to walk again, to use her hands to tend to those she loves. And, He certainly knows she is too stubborn to listen.
She is smiling and laughing, swaying back and forth as she listens to Elvis's "Blue Christmas" played live...maybe this is really why she won't sit down at the table yet....she is probably thrilled to see Elvis sing live instead of the fake Elvis from Johnny's Hideaway!
I know she is sorry that she cannot hug and kiss each of the grand kids as we arrive to the house in Atlanta. I know that she grieves for the sorrow that her mom and husband feel this morning. But I also know that she is healed, that she can dine at the table of Christ.
When I was little, my mom and I used to argue about days like this. She would have picked out my dress and Buster Brown shoes, along with new tights. I would drag myself into the kitchen in an outfit that I knew that she did not approve of, only to be turned back to my room for something more appropriate. I would have begged her to wear a fancy necklace or bracelet and rifled through her drawers for something sparkly. She would acquiesce, if I put on the lace frilly dress that I loathed.
As an adult, she would be in the kitchen when I arrived and usher the grand kids to the porch to play. She would offer me a cup of that horrible decaf coffee, and we would laugh about how I could smell the difference. She had a twinkle in her eye as she grinned and said it was indeed real coffee. And we would laugh knowing she was fibbing yet again.
She would ask me about work and the kids, but mainly about the kids. Were they doing okay in school? Was J enjoying reading yet? When was A's quiz bowl competition? When was A's cornucopia show and would he be dancing center stage? And then she would grow a little sad when asking about K, knowing that she might not remember her when she got older....
Mom was there when K was born. It was the first time that we allowed her in the delivery room. The hospital had been under strict orders to keep her out, because we knew that the doctors and nurses could not bear the 'direction' she would offer them. When A was born, she was on the other side of the door yelling to them to let her in...When the second was born, she was with dad as he recovered from surgery a few floors below. When J was born, she was with the first two, taking care of them for us. But with K, we had her in the room the whole time.
She cut the cord, and I saw a side of her that I had never seen. An amazing sense of pride and thankfulness.
So, today, my cord has been cut. And I feel that same sense of pride and thankfulness that I was able to have such a great mother, that God scooped me up and placed me in her loving hands. And now, she is in His hands.
So, Mom, sit down at the table. Stop worrying about the cinnamon buns in the oven and the drinks in people's hands. It is time for you to seat at the right hand of the Father and enjoy the feast of Thanksgiving at Christ's table. We are so thankful that you are free of this disease, that we had the time we had with you, and that you are healed.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Gonna be a Good Life
I have been listening to the lyrics of the "One Republic" song called "Good Life." It seems like it is on repeat on the radio recently.
Though it may not be *about* the same topic, the song really speaks to me.
My sweet mother is fighting ALS, the horrible disease many know as Lou Gehrig's. She is such an inspiration, and I know that she has had a good life. She is so loved by her friends, family, and community. I am proud to have been raised by such an amazing woman, who loves God and all people. Her courage inspires me to have a good life, to be the kind of mother that I want to be.
She has given me a Good Life.
Mom, I love you. We are all going to be ok. You have taught us the lessons that we need to have a good life. When there are airplanes I feel like I just can't jump out of, I think of you...and I jump. Thank you for giving me the courage...and the knowledge that there are things that I should not complain about.
Your mom made me memorize her favorite bible verse when I was little, the first verse I learned from the heart.
Philippians 4:8: Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report, if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.
Though it may not be *about* the same topic, the song really speaks to me.
My sweet mother is fighting ALS, the horrible disease many know as Lou Gehrig's. She is such an inspiration, and I know that she has had a good life. She is so loved by her friends, family, and community. I am proud to have been raised by such an amazing woman, who loves God and all people. Her courage inspires me to have a good life, to be the kind of mother that I want to be.
She has given me a Good Life.
Mom, I love you. We are all going to be ok. You have taught us the lessons that we need to have a good life. When there are airplanes I feel like I just can't jump out of, I think of you...and I jump. Thank you for giving me the courage...and the knowledge that there are things that I should not complain about.
Your mom made me memorize her favorite bible verse when I was little, the first verse I learned from the heart.
Philippians 4:8: Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report, if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.
Monday, January 31, 2011
A difficult topic to discuss- the commercial sexual exploitation of our children
We give power to the continuance of community problems when we do not discuss them.
As members of our community, we can impact our community by talking about difficult topics.
A couple of years ago, I became aware of a huge problem facing my community - the commercial sale of children for sexual acts. I understand that it is a disgusting, difficult topic to discuss, but it is one that maintains its power over us by our silence.
Approximately 500 children or more are sold for sexual acts in my community each month. A recent study revealed that 47% of those soliciting children for sex acts lived in north Metro Atlanta. It is a staggering problem that we MUST become informed about and take action on.
These children are often as young as 11 or 12, and the biggest misconception is that this issue does not impact us directly. These children are OUR children, kids without the voice to advocate for themselves. And this is where we come in.
Last night, PBS debuted the allegorical tale of "The Candy Shop" which demonstrates some of the issues involving CSEC (commercial sexual exploitation of children). In the post show discussion on air, PBS interviewed a CSEC survivor and advocates - legislative and community - who are openly and passionately voicing the dimensions of the issue and how you can become involved.
I am linking the online program through PBS here, along with a fact sheet distributed by the Governor's Office for Children and Families, so that you too can share your awareness of the issue and how we can be the vocal advocates for our children.
We can all be community advocates, and it begins with being informed about the issue and discussing it openly with our communities.
Five specific things that you can do to become involved include:
1. Writing your legislator to tell them that you care about this issue and ask them to discuss it with their colleagues. Then, they can take action as well.
2. Discuss what you have learned with your families, your co-workers, and your communities. As uncomfortable as the topic might be to discuss, your voice is the voice of those who cannot talk openly about it.
3. Participate in Capitol Days advocating on this issue.
4. If you live in Georgia and you suspect that a child is being sold for sexual acts, then contact the Georgia Care Connection at 404-602-0068.
5. Contribute to the Safety Gap Fund (in Georgia) that provides victim services for children who have been prostituted for commercial profit.
As members of our community, we can impact our community by talking about difficult topics.
A couple of years ago, I became aware of a huge problem facing my community - the commercial sale of children for sexual acts. I understand that it is a disgusting, difficult topic to discuss, but it is one that maintains its power over us by our silence.
Approximately 500 children or more are sold for sexual acts in my community each month. A recent study revealed that 47% of those soliciting children for sex acts lived in north Metro Atlanta. It is a staggering problem that we MUST become informed about and take action on.
These children are often as young as 11 or 12, and the biggest misconception is that this issue does not impact us directly. These children are OUR children, kids without the voice to advocate for themselves. And this is where we come in.
Last night, PBS debuted the allegorical tale of "The Candy Shop" which demonstrates some of the issues involving CSEC (commercial sexual exploitation of children). In the post show discussion on air, PBS interviewed a CSEC survivor and advocates - legislative and community - who are openly and passionately voicing the dimensions of the issue and how you can become involved.
I am linking the online program through PBS here, along with a fact sheet distributed by the Governor's Office for Children and Families, so that you too can share your awareness of the issue and how we can be the vocal advocates for our children.
We can all be community advocates, and it begins with being informed about the issue and discussing it openly with our communities.
Five specific things that you can do to become involved include:
1. Writing your legislator to tell them that you care about this issue and ask them to discuss it with their colleagues. Then, they can take action as well.
2. Discuss what you have learned with your families, your co-workers, and your communities. As uncomfortable as the topic might be to discuss, your voice is the voice of those who cannot talk openly about it.
3. Participate in Capitol Days advocating on this issue.
4. If you live in Georgia and you suspect that a child is being sold for sexual acts, then contact the Georgia Care Connection at 404-602-0068.
5. Contribute to the Safety Gap Fund (in Georgia) that provides victim services for children who have been prostituted for commercial profit.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Female Role Models - Happy Birthday Mom
Today is my mother's 70th birthday!
To honor what a wonderful role model she has been for me, I wanted to share 7 things that she has taught me...
1. Sunday best is called Sunday best for a reason. Dress up when you are going to church.
2. Proper grammar is important. Speak it, model it, and correct it. Then, your children will learn it.
3. Treat everyone equally. A conversation with the clerk at the grocery store is just as meaningful as the one you have with the CEO of a business corporation.
4. Manners are an art form that need to be learned and practiced.
5. Everyone deserves a second chance.
6. Being a good mother and wife is perhaps the most important job that one can have...and the hardest.
7. In order to impact your community, you have to be a part of it. Be active, be visible, and be carefully engaged.
My mother has never met a bridge game she didn't love, a stranger she did not smile warmly to, or a child that did not melt her heart. She has been an active citizen in her community all of her life: giving back by doing community clean ups, supportive civic club meetings, and volunteering at a second hand clothing shop. But, if you ask her neighbors what they see her doing most, it would probably be walking the dog around the neighborhood and stopping to chat with all the people she encounters...bragging about her grandchildren, her children, and her friends.
She has taught me so much, and I am so very thankful that she has been my role model of how to be the best wife, mother and friend that I can be.
So, who is your female role model? and have you thanked them for what they have taught you? To honor my mother's 70th birthday, please reach out to that person and thank them for how they have inspired you!
To honor what a wonderful role model she has been for me, I wanted to share 7 things that she has taught me...
1. Sunday best is called Sunday best for a reason. Dress up when you are going to church.
2. Proper grammar is important. Speak it, model it, and correct it. Then, your children will learn it.
3. Treat everyone equally. A conversation with the clerk at the grocery store is just as meaningful as the one you have with the CEO of a business corporation.
4. Manners are an art form that need to be learned and practiced.
5. Everyone deserves a second chance.
6. Being a good mother and wife is perhaps the most important job that one can have...and the hardest.
7. In order to impact your community, you have to be a part of it. Be active, be visible, and be carefully engaged.
My mother has never met a bridge game she didn't love, a stranger she did not smile warmly to, or a child that did not melt her heart. She has been an active citizen in her community all of her life: giving back by doing community clean ups, supportive civic club meetings, and volunteering at a second hand clothing shop. But, if you ask her neighbors what they see her doing most, it would probably be walking the dog around the neighborhood and stopping to chat with all the people she encounters...bragging about her grandchildren, her children, and her friends.
She has taught me so much, and I am so very thankful that she has been my role model of how to be the best wife, mother and friend that I can be.
So, who is your female role model? and have you thanked them for what they have taught you? To honor my mother's 70th birthday, please reach out to that person and thank them for how they have inspired you!
Monday, January 17, 2011
The Art of Negotiation - Martin Luther King Jr.
This week, and on the day where we honor Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., I return to teaching again after a week of snow holidays. I am thrilled to be teaching a class in negotiation and conflict resolution for the first time at my college, nestled in the home on the (US) Civil Rights Movement!
We will begin with the art of negotiation, something that I observed when interviewing the subjects for my book, Sinn Fein Women.
A good negotiator is a listener and an even better observer.
Negotiation is often about getting to the heart of the underlying issues in conflict, rather than debating the positions that one brings to the table.
Being disingenuous is counter-productive. Trying to be something that you are not is disingenuous. Feeling entitled will not achieve success either.
The art of negotiation is a delicate process of acknowledging what you bring to the table and what other stakeholders do as well. The limits of conflict resolution are made by the parameters of set expectations, but the goals of conflict resolution are defined in the process itself.
On this Martin Luther King Jr Day, I pause to think about the goals he set for our society - the truth and equality that he sought, the openness he pursued, and the content of character that he displayed in the pursuit of social justice and peace.
"I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character. " -MLK Jr.
So, let the content of our character guide our negotiations, for it will be revealed in our endeavors.
We will begin with the art of negotiation, something that I observed when interviewing the subjects for my book, Sinn Fein Women.
A good negotiator is a listener and an even better observer.
Negotiation is often about getting to the heart of the underlying issues in conflict, rather than debating the positions that one brings to the table.
Being disingenuous is counter-productive. Trying to be something that you are not is disingenuous. Feeling entitled will not achieve success either.
The art of negotiation is a delicate process of acknowledging what you bring to the table and what other stakeholders do as well. The limits of conflict resolution are made by the parameters of set expectations, but the goals of conflict resolution are defined in the process itself.
On this Martin Luther King Jr Day, I pause to think about the goals he set for our society - the truth and equality that he sought, the openness he pursued, and the content of character that he displayed in the pursuit of social justice and peace.
"I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character. " -MLK Jr.
So, let the content of our character guide our negotiations, for it will be revealed in our endeavors.
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