Grieving for good

The internal pictures of my early childhood include a series of things ~

My Nanny in all her wonderfulness.  Her hair like sparkly spun sugar, the gold filigree ring she wore and the hand mixer she used to whip meringue

Putting pennies on the railroad tracks before it was a bicycle trail

My Mama's big green sedan with bench seats and no heat

And the Strickland family

They were this hilarious and wonderful mix of sisters, aunts, mothers, daughters and one amazing old man we called Grumps that was my friends' Daddy.  Everyone spent their time with this family. They always had room for one more and I have absolutely no memory of anyone in that family ever being unkind to me.  Ever.

Miss Evelyn was my Girl Scout leader for what seemed like forever.  She also used to make these wickedly good butter cream cheese treats that I think are called chess squares.

Sherry is the youngest daughter of that family and one of my dearest childhood friends.  I loved to spend the weekend camping with her family at the beach.  We slept in a tent outside while her parents slept inside in their camper. Those weekends were the coolest ever and we would spend all day long on the sand with her boom box singing to heaven knows whatever song and dancing like loons.  The first s'more I ever tasted was in her backyard.

Wendy was Sherry's older sister and was just total coolness.  She never treated us like her little sister's bratty friends and was a blast to be with.  I don't actually remember spending time with my friend Sherry when Wendy wasn't there.  She was our choreographer, the ultra loud ring leader, the super cool high schooler when we were in middle school and the best possible entertainment on road trips.

My memories with their family are sharp, meaningful and happy.  My Mama is still very close to them and spends a lot of time in their company. They are still this hilarious mix of wonderful sisters, aunts, mothers and daughters.  They sadly lost Grumps a few years ago leaving only the constant of the girls.  Miss Evelyn, Sherry & Wendy and all the wonderful Roberts aunts.

Sweet Wendy went to heaven to be with her Dad last night.  Her condition was pronounced terminal just last week and it was a blessing that she was at home and her aunts, her Mom and her sister.  Leaving home for heaven is not tragic, yet my heart is still broken.  It is not right, not fair, not POSSIBLE that someone so young and so extraordinary can be gone from this life.


My heart hurt an awful lot last night as I selfishly processed what that loss meant to me (and to my sweet Mom) and as I grieved for the women she left behind who love her so endlessly.  The idea of someone else hurting always goes straight to the softest part of my heart.  Thinking of the loss her Mother has suffered threatens to undo me.  I won't even pretend that I can imagine what it feels like to make plans to bury your child.  That statement alone leaves me numb and swimming in tears.  Again.

Sadly when Wendy was admitted to the hospital she was still too new in her current job to have medical insurance or life insurance.  And because even critical care is a business, Miss Evelyn had to charge the {exorbitant} cost of the long distance ambulance transfer on her credit card.  This particular element of tragedy gave me purpose.

The negative energy I was bringing into my home and my own heart last night wasn't helping anyone and I wanted to do something. Anything to make it better.  So I am using my grief for good.  The Wendy Shaw Memorial Fund  launched today.  It is a non-profit donation site where friends and family can give as little or as much as they're able, to help offset the unexpected and overwhelming cost of Wendy's urgent medical care and funeral arrangements.

There will most likely never be a day at the beach with the Strickland family, but I can go back to it in my heart just as I do with memories of my Nanny and all of my other favorite things.  For every s'more they served me and every happy moment we shared, I honor them.  It won't help the hurt, but it can't hurt to help.

 If you are so inclined, even $10 would help their family.  You can help by donating here

A good life

This week has been brutal.

I am in Las Vegas for a conference and I don't love Las Vegas. As a general rule, I get sick every time I spend more than two days in the desert. I am in the airport sucking on a cough drop and balancing tissue between my upper lip and my nostril. Pretty picture, no?

In the four days I've been here I have had 24 scheduled face to face meetings, as well as working until the wee hours on my regular workload back in the office. I have met some amazing people and had a lot of high-level, thought provoking conversations. That part is good. But, getting this involved in business always makes me a little melancholy because I feel like I'm choosing business over my family and I NEVER want that to be the case. I'm in perpetual scramble mode lately and I don't like it. This week gives me hope for better days ahead, but if I let things get the best of me (and I do) I just get sad. And then I remember . . .

My life is overflowing with beautiful and wonderful things. So much goodness. My happy thoughts for the week in no particular order.

The Princess has decided she prefers to be called "Bob" over her given name. That cracks me up, I read an email from her soccer coach this week and he referred to E as "Bob's Dad". Funny.




That quote reminds me of my Nanny. The love she gave me when she was here sees me through lots of sad days. It's comforting to still feel like I'm protected by her love.

Since I moved to California I've had a pile of bosses in the event industry. I saw three of them at this week's conference and they all hugged me tightly and asked authentically about my life. That feels really good. I've been blessed to work for some truly talented and extraordinary people.

Last weekend's concert date with E. He's so much fun to go out with.







A fun weekend ahead with E's family for a wedding. I love to get dressed up for any reason and I LOVE weddings.

Blueberry mojitos, Tory Burch wedges and Alex and Ani bracelets.

A fun project that I found on Pinterest (of course) and am super excited about the final product.

Being able to jump on a plane and be in my sweet children's bedrooms in less than two hours. I can't wait to see these faces. They carry me through every moment that is less than I want it to be.




A good life, indeed





- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Just a Girl

The words swirl constantly and I cannot organize the thoughts enough to put them in order.  The idea of stringing together sentences to express myself clearly is more overwhelming than the crowd of thoughts themselves.  Tonight is not different. 

It's cold and wet outside, but our home is warm and safe.  The satisfaction of physical comfort won't stick because of how desperately I need everything to be as calm as this room.  Our life is not calm.  Our life is mostly likely an antonym for the word calm.


At least three nights this week I worked until I was delirious and should probably do it a few more nights to meet my deadlines.  That damn dog eats everything that's not tied down.  My failures as a parent are crushing me.  And I want to run.  If I sit still long enough to think I am crippled by the enormity of it all.  I am totally a fraud in the pressure and expectations of the world I inhabit.  Whoever thought I was qualified enough to take on all of this and do it well was very, very wrong.  I am just a girl that fell in love with a boy from far away.  How the rest of it happened is purely a miracle.

In acknowledgment of my rambling thoughts and overwhelming need to spill I will just talk about me.  The me that I forget about sometimes.  The me that I want my kids to know about.

My Nanny has been my favorite person for my whole life. I miss her every single day.

 Handwritten notes are one of my favorite things. No tweet, email or text can ever replace getting a personal note on paper from someone.

Country music is comfort food to me.

An outdoor concert is my idea of a perfect date.

If I could sit alone {guilt free} for an afternoon I would get a LOOOONG pedicure with all the extras and read a book. I wouldn't talk. I wouldn't listen to music. I would just read and have my feet rubbed.

photo courtesy of the Athlete

I love getting dressed up.
AND
I love to see E in a suit.

I wear earrings, a watch and my wedding ring even when I am wearing sweats and haven't showered.  Jewelry is totally my thing.

My husband impresses me more every day. I am so glad I married the right person for me.

The idea of teaching my kids how to drive scares me to death.

I am not good at praying.  My heart is TOTALLY in it but I am never sure what to say.  I always make sure that I say thank you if I can't think of anything else.  Thank you is always in my heart when I talk to God.

My fitness level (or lack of it) scares me.  I want to be healthier than I am right now.

My constant level of exhaustion also scares me.  I don't think it's healthy to be this tired all the time.

Hawaii is where I go to when I dream. My dreams even smell better in Hawaii.

The cross I had made with my diamonds from my Grandmother's cocktail ring is my favorite piece of jewelry.

My obsession with Pinterest may have been replaced by my new obsession with houzz.  Oh what I could do with endless amounts of money and a trustworthy handy man!  And a decorator . . .  and endless amounts of money . . .

Lunch with a girlfriend is always a treat for me.  I love to hang with my girlfriends one on one.

I hope that my children inherit my courage.  I really want them to be fearless and always willing to apologize if they trip anyone while they're charging ahead.

Aging is not my favorite thing.  My hair is thinning, my skin looks terrible and I have started wondering if I need to have something done about the veins in my legs.  Oh brother!

Even though I lack patience with the chewing and shedding of our new puppy I really, really like dogs.

Taking our golf cart to the beach always makes me happy.

My children inspire me to hang in there every day.  I walk taller and push harder because I want to be worthy of them.

My children make me know that there's nothing I can't get through.  Sometimes I just need to take a deep breath.  Or two.

Birthday Blessings

Today would have been my Nanny's 92nd birthday.  New Year's Day will mark the fourth anniversary of when I held her hand for the last time and I miss her terribly.  If I could call her today and wish her a happy birthday I would be sure to sing in my clearest, happiest voice.  No one ever made me happier or feel better than my Nanny did for most of my life.

When I pray with my children and tell them of the Lord's goodness I ALWAYS think of her.  She was so faithful and steadfast.  She would enjoy their enthusiasm and love for God so much.  Psalm 23 was her favorite scripture.  It reminds me of her.  Just like hummingbirds, butterflies and homemade waffles.  They were all uniquely her to me.  Happy Birthday, little bird.  I love and miss you so much.

Psalm 23

The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.

He maketh me to lie down in green pastures:
he leadeth me beside the still waters.
He restoreth my soul:
he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil: for thou art with me;
thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies:
thou anointest my head with oil;
my cup runneth over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life:
and I will dwell in the house of the LORD for ever.
 
Amen.

What Would She Say?

If you saw me in the parking lot at lunch you would think "Cute dress. Bad hair." I don't outwardly appear to be a total disaster. I am showing up for work and brushing my teeth. The kids get vitamins every morning and all of the towels are clean. I even fed and watered the roses yesterday. Life is not bad. I am just DONE.

Capital D. Capital O. Capital N. Capital E. DONE

Our offspring are being truly ungrateful and rude to each other. My tolerance for corporate nonsense is dangerously low. I struggle to write concisely and professionally in business correspondence because I really just want to rant and tell people they are complete jack asses!!!!! I truly, truly, truly hate packing lunches and unloading the dishwasher.

DONE

And then I open my jewelry box to make myself feel better with something pretty and see the photo of her.



Nanny and The Princess - September 2004

 What would she say to me right now?

I would tell her every word I just wrote and she would definitely scold me for saying jackass. But what would she really say?

She survived her husband, two of her three children and one of her grandchildren. She never even had a dishwasher. Ever. She washed every dish by hand immediately after every meal. Every time. Even after fried chicken and homemade biscuits. She hand wrote me a letter every week for ten years after I moved to California. After her arthritis made writing too painful she typed to me on a typewriter. And when she didn't have anything to say she would type;

"I don't have anything to say. I just want you to know that you're my sunshine. Love, Nanny"

And I never heard her complain in my whole life. Ever.

Oh my goodness, I can not believe how much I still miss her.

E and I have been talking endlessly about how entitled and ungracious our children seem this summer and I can't help thinking that maybe it's because we're so entitled and ungracious. Are they complaining about being tired from camp because we're complaining about being tired from work? Do they talk to each other like that because we talk to them like that?

I know the answer but I want it to be different.

I want to be more like her. I want to be tough and graceful on the same day. I want to smile at every single person I encounter and mean it. I want to be truly thankful for the dirty dishes and the lunch boxes and lead the ungracious children in the other direction. Purely by example.

She was really the most wonderful person in the world. I know what she would say.




- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Thirty Days of Thankfulness ~ Day Eighteen

December 5

Today I am thankful for my Nanny.  If she were still here it would be her 91st birthday.  She took a tiny piece of me with her when she left here, but what she left behind was so much bigger.  Her legacy of love and compassion is broad and warm.  She left behind small children who remember her gentle way and easy smile.  She left behind adults who miss her hands and the smell of her powder.  I am so thankful that she was mine for the first 33 years of my life.  So thankful she was mine for even a minute.  So thankful for my Nanny.

Happy Birthday, little bird.  I miss you every day.

Happy Birthday, Nanny

Today would have been my Nanny's 90th Birthday.  I'm more than a little sad that she's not here, but so happy she is well and content in heaven.

The last big birthday we celebrated together was her 80th.  E and I flew home to surprise her at a party in her office.  Yeah, her office.  She still worked full time when she was 80 and her colleagues and friends were thrilled to honor her.  It was such a nice occasion and she so deserved the hoopla.

I am smarter, happier and better in every single way because she loved me.  I know she's watching and I know she knows how much I love her.  I'll say Happy Birthday here anyway.

Happy Birthday, Nanny.  I miss your face.

Get Right With the Man

It never fails that when I wear my Cranky Pants for all the world to see, I am unexpectedly offered a sincere reminder of my blessings. 

I was afforded the special opportunity of weekday mass with The Athlete and his classmates.  Have you ever had the opportunity to see 60 children under the age of 8 kneeling together in prayer?  It is breathtaking.  Truly.

I can't really articulate the beauty of their innocence and genuine hunger to learn God's word.  There is no dissent.  No opposition.  They are there as a whole without egos or judgement.  They are listening carefully and quietly developing their own way to apply it.  Every chance I've had to experience this stands still in my mind as one of those moments.  Those moments. 

E and I standing at the altar of that perfect little church listening to the waves.

The nurse handing me the baby in the middle of the night and saying Congratulations.

Sitting in bed with my Nanny on her last day here and chatting with my Mom.

Those moments are fleeting, but the impact is eternal and mind blowing.  I hear the voice that is usually crowded out of my consciousness.  And I come back to center.  I am reminded to drop my cranky pants in the laundry and hang my woe is me hat on the rack.  He's been dialing my number and I haven't been listening.  I've been driving too fast, working too hard and fretting too much.  All for naught.  I'm covered.

Don't forget to count your blessings friends.  A headache can be cured and the dog can be sold ;), but these moments will never happen again.  Only we can choose what the memory looks like when the moment has ended.

Fight your fights, find the grace in all the things that you can't change

And help somebody if you can

And get right with the Man

~ Van Zant

Raising Thoughtful Children

Thoughfulness is a lost art. Everyone is busy and moving rapidly through life. There's no opportunity for sincerity in a tweet. True consideration is masked by birthday reminders on Facebook. People you've never laid eyes on wish you a Happy Birthday on Facebook. Timely and pleasing, absolutely. Thoughtful, I say no.

My Nanny was truly the most thoughtful person in the world. I was 20 years old when I moved to California and the only person I knew was E. My new world was full of foreign experiences and constant adjustment and all I could do was hold my head up and push through. I never told anyone how scared I was back then, but she knew. She mailed me a handwritten letter once a week. Every week. For years. A quick hello. A well timed word of encouragement. A small check for no reason. They were the most thoughtful gestures of my life. She knew I needed her and it was her way of being there for me without suggesting I pack up and come home. She was truly, truly thoughtful. The impact of her sincerity is not lost on me. When I spoke at her funeral I wasn't even a little surprised to see the ocean of people who wanted to be near her one more time. I always want to believe that I was her favorite and she treated me special, but I know that she extended the same gestures to everyone she encountered. Her bosses, the summer interns in her office, my less deserving cousins . . . She held no prejudice in her consideration.

I want to raise children who leave the same impact on the world. It is the job that I take the most seriously. I cannot take back my own trangressions or erase unkind words. I can only try do better in the future and the people at my kitchen counter ARE the future. They are learning to write thank you notes and call their Grandparents to ask how they're doing. They choose gifts that the recipient will cherish. They offer assistance to those who need it. They are required to go through the motions of consideration so they will evolve as truly thoughtful adults. It is a gift I'd like to leave them when I'm not around to pack their lunches anymore.

The Princess likes to color and draw and such when My Athlete is doing homework. Last night was no different. She was hard at work on a coloring book about fire safety. Cool! Woven into her chatter about not hiding from firemen even if they sound like Darth Vader and never playing with matches I saw her lightbulb go on. Quite cynically I was thinking "oh, this should be good."  Shame on me.

"Mama, it's Rory's birthday tomorrow."

"Awesome. Are you going to wish her happy birthday when you see her?"

"Can I make her a card?"

You've never seen a grown woman so feverishly dig for card stock, stickers and markers.

"I think that's a wonderful idea. How sweet of you."

"I know."

Well, thoughtful is a process. At least we're trying.