The end of an era

Well, as I write this, the end of an era is taking place. DS, 16,my baby, is getting his braces off.

I've gone through this process with three other children. Is it different with the baby of the family? I think most mothers would agree with me, sure, it is. I could write a bunch of stuff here about milestones and moments I remember and what it means that he is now driving and probably has a girfriend I know nothing about, and will continue to know nothing about until he is about 23 and decides it's safe for me to know some of this stuff. Yes, I could write volumes.

But I won't. Suffice it to say this is the kid that we all thought could audition for the role of Harry Potter eleven years ago and get it, British accent and all, and now he looks like a taller, more slender, younger and not quite so hairy version of Collin Ferrell.

I don't necessarily feel old given the occasion -- the varicose veins developing on my thighs already are doing that job, thank you very much -- but I do wonder, where did the time go?

List #1: On being human

As noted in a previous entry, my son gave me a wonderful list book, titled List Your Self. This entry will be the first of hopefully many related list ideas given in that book. Here is the first one:

List all the qualities you love about being human.

Wow, talk about a big subject. Nope, we couldn't start with something simple, like, list your favorite foods, or, list three people that you could live happily without ever seeing again. I promise, this really IS the first list idea given in the book, though I should add that the list suggestions in the book do not have to be done in any order. But, I'm sure I'll address this particular list question at some point, and I do like having order in my life, so why put off the inevitable ...

First, a quality I admire in others and am working to constantly develop is the ability to laugh, to have a sense of humor. And I'm sure you can see how valuable this quality can be in our mortal journey.


But without going into all the gory details, I've actually been thinking a lot lately about being human. Specifically,what does it mean to be human in terms of our day to day interactions with others? I think it's easy to see our limitations in being human. I mean, besides the obvious, like we can't fly, there are other qualities about being human that seem rather unnecessary -- like the fact that because we are human, we eat too much. Or we are sometimes lazy. Or we hurt people's feelings. Or they hurt ours ... (This list could go on and on ... but I think you get the idea.)

Sadly, and as my family will readily attest, I am all TOO human! I recently had the occasion to apologize to someone close to me. (Okay, this is sometimes a daily occurence for me, but I digress.) I should say I had the opportunity to apologize, because I believe the thing that may frustrate me the most about being human is also the quality that allows for what I love best about being human. We all make mistakes; this is a given. But along with each mistake we make along the way, we are also given the opportunity to apologize for our mistakes. We can express sorrow, and then we can try to do better -- WE CAN CHANGE -- a very comforting aspect of being human. We can learn and grow, and not just in the way that rats in a maze learn the most direct pathway to the cheese.

Still, we all know the famous saying, "To err is human, to forgive is divine." It's food for thought that closely linked to an inevitable part of being human is such a divine attribute, that of being forgiving. I don't think this symbiotic link is an accident of the human condition. When someone near me makes a mistake -- because they are human -- then I can choose to extend forgiveness, even without an apology in place, and the healing balm is put in place which allows relationships to flourish. Through forgiveness, both individuals and relationships move forward, freed from the pain of past mistakes. It allows all of us to access our great, divine gifts and become the most complete and whole persons we can be on our way to being more like our Heavenly Father and his Son. I hate to think that by holding back forgiveness, I have made it more difficult for a person to progress. Like many, I know I have been guilty of this, but I'm working on it.

What would the world be like if we all lived by this principle of extending automatic forgiveness to those around us, for actions both large and small?

But even beyond Christian principles, giving apologies and extending forgiveness is just a nice way to live.

Southern Utah

Yes, I am a huge fan of southern Utah. I will head down there any chance I get. It seems strange, I know, especially given my penchant for the beach, ocean vistas, and water landscapes in general. So why do I so love the half of this state which is basically desert?

I'm not sure I completely know how to answer that. I know part of the attraction I have for the area, specifically, Zion National Park, lies in the creation of many happy memories there over the past 7 years or so. I have made a point of traveling down there whenever I can, with whomever I can. I find great delight in exploring the park over and over again. Then, last week, I was able to tour four additional parks with my DB and his wife -- Canyonlands, Arches, Captital Reef, and Bryce, with a half-day stop in Zion's before we headed home. Arches and Bryce, especially, did not disappoint, though I'm glad I didn't miss the sweeping, almost overwhelming landscape of Canyonlands, either.






However, I believe part of the attraction lies in the fact that the landscape of southern Utah is so vastly different from anything else I have ever known, shocking my senses into a much-needed, altered state. Basically, my brain turns off when I am there. Well, perhaps not exactly turns off, but the colors and landforms allow my thinking to somehow let go in a way that does not happen at home. And in that sense, I can turn off the many voices that call to me in my daily life and just be. Southern Utah requires nothing else of me than to look and explore at my whim. I realize I am in a a peaceful state there, the foreign having become familiar.







I'd like to learn how to transfer some of this respite in thinking into my daily life. I think another trip to southern Utah might help me get a handle on it ...

the perfect present

So, as you can probably surmise by reading the dates on this blog, I have not been very consistent with making entries. This is largely due to two factors: first, and I believe any writer will relate to this, is my feeling a clear sense of purpose (or a lack there of) in posting here. I ask myself, Why am I writing this blog? I mean, I can see several themes as I look over my previous posts. This blog is -- and was initially started as -- a place of thinking things through, almost like therapy. But I also find myself wanting a place where I can record important events in my life, especially those that have to do with my role as wife, mother, etc .... At other times, I think it is nice just to have a place to share important advice, life lessons if you will, that I would like to leave for my posterity. Finally, I feel I'd like to use this blog as a place to think about and record spiritual insights, although I do that somewhat already in my gratitude journal ...

Then this past Mother's Day, May 2009, my DS, 22, gave me a most wonderful present, which is really funny, because I told him I didn't want a present per se. I had asked him for simply a letter or something, and he did oblige me by writing a most heartfelt epistle to me on his own blog.

But he also found me a gift at the bookstore. When he told me he had bought me a present in addition to writing the letter, I protested, to which he replied, "Mom, wait until you see this gift. It was so YOU, I just had to get it. I know you'll agree once I give it to you." Well, DS was right. He gave me a book entitled, List Yourself: Listmaking as the Way to Self-Discovery. And yes, this is probably one of the most appropriate gifts he could give me because I LOVE stuff like this! If I weren't a teacher, I would so be a librarian or work in a bookstore. I love reading biographies, autobiographies, histories, and anything that has to do with real life.

What my son did not know was that this book would provide a jumping off point for my blog! And the cool thing about these prompts is that the answers can go anywhere I want them to, fulfilling the multiple purposes I'd like to have with this blog. I am really excited to incorporate the prompts in the book into my postings here, and I invite anyone who would like to join with me to do so, perhaps on their own blog. I am greatly looking forward to this adventure!

Physician -- Oops, mother, heal thyself

So, a few days ago I woke up feeling really crummy. Okay, it started even before I woke up. It started when I woke up the FIRST time, at 3 am, with a burning sore throat and night sweats. Got it? Sure, I know you know that feeling -- you're getting sick, and man, are you excited about it ... NOT!

The day did not proceed much better from there. I felt under the weather most of the day, though I won't deny three ibuprofen helped tremendously and I was able to at least function. (A certain level of functioning was crucial as I had quite a bit of driving to do ...)

By mid-afternoon, I was not faring much better. I had moved from I don't feel really well to Somebody give me the amnesia drug they gave me the in the hospital (AMAZING STUFF) and drop me in either Tahiti or Hawaii with the body I had at 18. Three ibuprofen bounced up to four to take the edge off of a rapidly developing migraine.

Life seemed to be getting worse, moment by moment - especially after realizing how far from that 18 year old body my own had come - so I did what I always do when life gets hard. I ran a warm bath and put on some face mask stuff. (I sometimes feel sorry for men that they don't know about these ways to pamper themselves. Hey, I've watched football to cut the stress, and I've gotta say, it JUST AIN'T THE SAME.)

Finally, somewhere between the ibuprofen and the face mask, I began to feel better -- well enough to keep to my original plans for the evening to enjoy some Thai food with girlfriends. Woohoo!

But I woke up this morning feeling crummy again. And on top of that, I felt mad that I felt crummy. You know the internal drill: "I have so much to do," "I don't have time to be sick," or what about, "It is a BEAUTIFUL day outside -- why do I have to be sick TODAY?" Whine, whine, whine ... let me tell you, I was just filling my house (and head) with loads of positive mental energy.

So, I tried to do a mental shift from such distorted thinking. I asked myself, How would I handle this situation if it were one of my kids that were sick? Without a second thought, I knew I would tell that child to rest and spend the day getting better. Funny, I could give my child permission to do that -- I could even see the necessity of it -- but myself? Oh, my, my -- life can be so full of 'shoulds' and 'should nots'! It was crystal clear to me how distorted my thinking had been!

So, for the past 3 days, I've had lots of practice following this advice. I think I am getting good at it. I do hope I feel better tomorrow, though.

Once in a lifetime

I think every one should have a near-death experience in their life -- at least once.

I am told I almost died December 7. I wouldn't know, as I slept through the whole thing, but that is what everyone told me when I woke up. Turns out I am one of a select -- ahem, special -- group of people who reacts badly to a certain anesthesia. By react badly, I mean, my heart slows down to a ridiculously slow rate, like, 25 bpm. Usually a special person such as myself can be pulled out of this reaction by being given a dose of some other drug especially used for this purpose, but noooo ... turns out I am extra special and needed two doses, and by then - most understandably - the anesthesiologist and surgeon decided I was too special to be operated on that day, most especially by them.

So when I again decide to have my bunions fixed, I will have to go to a MAJOR hospital to have it done, where my specialness can be monitored most carefully. I'm so glad we found this out on some minor elective surgery such as a bunionectomy, and not when I was in a major car accident and had to be put under to be fixed no matter what. This information about myself definitely falls under the category of GOOD TO KNOW.

So what was so great about this experience that everyone should have one? Hmmm ... well, for starters, everyone -- and I mean everyone -- treats you real good for the next 24-48 hours after your near-death experience. (If you're lucky, you might squeeze a whole 72 hours out of such a catastrophe, but my kids are all teenagers and the best I could do was 48 ...). For those 2 days, I definitely felt special -- and, by extension, did my kids as they related the traumatic story to their friends of how THEIR mother had almost DIED ... Another benefit is it gives the 'near-deathee' an entirely new perspective on what is and what is not important in life. This effect, in my case, lasted a full 24 hours before the world came crashing in on me again -- but then, maybe, 24 hours is EXACTLY the length of time it took for the drugs to completely leave my system ...

Growing Up

Today I realized my ds (darling son) -- my youngest, my baby -- all of nearly 15 years of age -- is growing up, and doing so quickly.

He and I have a sacred spot. It may not appear a sacred place to others, and to be honest, before today, I had not thought of it as such, but so it is. Our sacred spot is ... (drumroll) ... our backyard trampoline. And today, my son, while lying out in the sun on said tramp eating half of a pint of leftover Ben and Jerry's ice cream, told me he wanted to be alone.

That hurt my mother-heart. More than his first day of kindergarten, or when he stopped asking to sleep in our bed, or his eighth grade graduation, or even how unbaby-like he looked when he got braces. Yes, all of those were milestones, to be sure, but there is nothing like when a child tells you they want to be alone in a place you have always been welcome.

In the heartbeat following his pronouncement, memories tumbled unbidden into my conscious mind.

This place -- the backyard tramp -- was where we lay in the warm afternoon sun, just talking, napping, or eating ice cream (the ice cream being a more recent addition to favorite activities there). We would sometimes talk, sometimes not.

We also enjoyed jumping on the trampoline together, especially when ds was younger, though I could never jump for as long as he could. I would say 'No more,' and he would plead with me to jump with him just a little bit more.

This place was where we had spent summer nights sleeping beneath the stars. It was always a contest to see if we both would make it through the entire night without creeping back to our beds. (I'm ashamed to say, I usually lost.) But those times we did wake to morning light streaming through the nearby over-sized pine, I relished the feel of his slender body snuggled close to mine.

All of this and more I felt in an instant. I softly said, "Okay, I guess I'll have to wait for grandchildren," then quietly walked away, leaving him alone.

I don't think his desire to be alone today was indicative of how he will feel all of the time. But it was a first time, and for that, it is a rite of passage.