Befriending Your Elders ; )

I cannot believe I have not blogged since November! Usually someone has to say something to me to inspire me to write. Things are always said to me that inspire me in one way or another; I just haven’t wanted to write a rant lately. Yesterday though, someone did say something that made my thoughts start rolling, so here goes.

A lady was talking to me about some mutual friends we have and she said she had asked someone how we were friends because there was quite a bit of an age difference. Actually the age difference is about 17 years. I was a less than surprised to realize that this is unusual for some people, but let me assure you, true friendship does not know age. As I have learned over the years, what is shared in that friendship bridges the gap.

Some of my closest and definitely my most trusted friends are at least 7 plus, years older than me. These are the ones that have never broken my trust, always been there for me anytime, day or night and never judged me. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that these ladies love me. They have taught me how to survive motherhood, marriage, death and even the ballpark. They have physically removed me from situations that I found myself in and tried their best to keep me on the right path and never ceased to pick me up and dust me off when I took detours along that path. While I was a young married I looked at some of these women and thought they had the perfect life. But when we became friends they weren’t afraid to show me the reality of adult life. They never let me believe they were better than me or they had all the answers. They allowed me to know their struggles and because of that, I learned from their successes and their mistakes. I won’t say I didn’t make some of the same mistakes myself, but when I did they knew. Their consistency in our friendship never wavered.

One of the most important things I have learned through their friendship is how to be a friend as an adult. Some adults still revel in teen drama in their friendships. They get mad for crazy reasons, or get their feelings hurt at the drop of a hat. They either don’t know or forget what true friendship is; Knowing, trusting and believing in your friend enough to be able to not have to ask what is real. You just know! It can be forgiveness, but generally in real friendships, forgiveness is not often not necessary because you accept each other flaws and all. I have been blessed to have younger friends come into my life and desire to be the friend to them that mine have been to me. I want to always be real for them. I don’t want to present myself to them as perfect because that is false. No one is and it makes you inaccessible to some. As I have said a million times before, I believe God expects us to learn from our experiences and share them with those coming behind us.

My younger friends who have trusted in me and listened to my stories, especially my “gothic”, make that “exotic” dark haired friend are true gifts to me. What would I do with all my so called wisdom if they had not come into my lives? I don’t know that I deserve them, but I don’t think they are part of my world by accident. It’s my chance to give what was given to me and I am beyond thankful for it. Truthfully, I do think I am pretty dang wise sometimes, although I often push wisdom aside and go for fun. So thank you my wise older friends for sharing your wisdom with me. You know who you are. You know that I absolutely adore you. I cannot imagine the pile of crap my life would be without you showing me that we all trudge through crap sometimes and every now and then we might even come out with the lingering scent of it on us but there is always a friend to hold your hand, to laugh at and with you whose love is faithful.

Happy, Happy, Joy, Joy

Lately it seems I have had a bit of writer’s block. Maybe because I have been partying so much… pity partying that is. I’m growing tired of being the only guest at this party so I thought I would invite others to wallow in misery with me. I never wake up in this partying mood, but it seems as though the sun doesn’t even get to it’s brightest in the morning before someone has slapped on my pity party hat and stuck a blower, the kind that fill with spit if you aren’t careful, right between my lips and turned me from sunshine to shit.

This is supposed to be the happiest time of the year. The holidays are upon us, pretty lights, decorations and all this happy, happy, joy, joy stuff. But I’m broke. America is broke. Like Antoine Dodson “forreal” broke. I see people everyday doing all they can to keep their homes and then realizing they are fighting a losing battle and the people that should help them. Those nice, willing people that helped them get into the home of their dreams don’t even care enough to return their phone calls now. They don’t care that these people are doing everything within their power. It’s a job they leave at 5 everyday, but to those whose calls seem to just annoy them it is lost hope and devastation 24/7. And it is people just like us. It is people who have worked for years, people with college degrees and people without, but it is good people with work ethic who have been doing all they could to keep afloat in the failing economy who just cannot fight the undertow any longer.

Life was so much easier when I was oblivious to adult problems. Even when I first became an adult I was oblivious. I didn’t realize how crushing it would be when the beautiful faces of my children who use to light up when I walked in the door became people whose basic response to general conversation is that of a grunt or nod. I didn’t know that they would walk out the door one morning and come back that afternoon unrecognizable to the point you want to shake them and scream, “Give me MY kid back!” I didn’t know it would hurt so much to allow them to totally screw up because I really cannot fix everything!

And right their lies the problem. I cannot fix it. I know I can turn it over God and in his time he will take care of every bit of it. But while I sit in the “In His Time” waiting room I don’t know what to do with myself. (And for me that is never a good thing…. “idle hands” and all.) I find myself digging deeper. If I can’t fix it, then I have this crazy need to know why it is the way it is so then maybe I can understand it. Which doesn’t seem to work well for me either because then I find out more than I needed to know and still can’t fix it. Ugh! How do people put it in God’s hands and walk away with a “oh yeah” he gave me THE prescription smile?

In discussing the holidays with a friend tonight, I stated I know I needed to be better about it to make them more special for my kids. I didn’t know it before she was gone, but I know now that it was my mother who made the holidays special. I miss my own mother so much, especially during the holidays that I haven’t learned how to do that yet. The dynamics with families after the loss of the “glue” is precarious during this time of year more than any other. And then someone goes all crazy and tries to bring in some “step” crappy stiff packing tape in place of the glue. Seriously, what are we to do with that?!

So here is what I find myself doing. Sitting up after midnight blogging because I can’t sleep, and no one wants to hear my whining. But in doing so I know, I am getting it off my chest, if only for tonight so that I can sleep. I can sleep because I know I’m probably not the only girl at a pity party for one and because I know that I am not settled in at this party. I know I can leave, I know I want to leave and soon, I will. I guess we all have to have them every so often. If you want to join my party and get it off your chest, go for it! You’ll breathe a little easier and maybe even find a smile when you are done.

Happy, Happy, Joy, Joy! Time to look for that prescription ; )

The Bird

Ah! The bird. If I didn't like it so much myself I would be offended by it. And I guess it is a good thing I am not since I saw it twice last week, but I think that's pretty good karma considering how many times I probably gave it out. Wikipedia defines the "bird" as follows: as In Western culture, the finger (as in giving someone the finger), also known as the middle finger, the highway salute, the bird (as in flicking, flipping or flying the bird), or to flip someone off, is an obscene hand gesture, often meaning the phrase "[screw] you" or "up yours."

For me personally, I don't use it as a "highway salute", usually. Although last week, after being visually molested, I was given "the nod" by some nasty old douchebag (I was pmsing) in the parking lot of the post office. To which I am sure I gave the look. The look my daughter's male teacher told her females have that is a form of bullying. He said all girls give it, their mothers give and their grandmothers gave it before them... I laughed, because we all know that look, that death stare that sends shivers down the backs of men and makes the hair on a woman receiving the look stand up like a dog when they know "it's on!". Anyway, I ended up behind this man on the highway. Yes, the highway, the place you can go at least 40 miles an hour. Well, the highest the eye rapist could go was 4. He just sat at the light after it turned red. Not for a second, for several. So I tapped the horn a couple of times to get him going. He moved. Like a freakin' snail. Eventually, I could get over into the lane that was actually moving. Nasty eye rapist not only flings the highway salute out the window to me, he screams his definition with it... and it wasn't "up yours". Now when this story was being told to my husband, he said "and I know you handled that in the Christian way" to which I replied "Actually, I thought about what the bible says about doing unto others as you would have them do unto you. And it seemed that was what he would have others do unto him so I gave him his wish." And then I got in front of him and went 4 miles an hour. When he got in the other lane, I got in front of him in that lane at 4 miles and hour, and so on and so forth for about 4 lane changes until he realized he'd messed with the wrong person and took the first exit he could find. Sometimes the look just isn't enough for some people and your must take your bullying a step further.

Wikipedia goes on to tell us the origin of the bird, which I found interesting, because really. who thinks this stuff up?! It says: It is identified as the digitus impudicus (impudent finger) in Ancient Roman writings] and reference is made to using the finger in ancient Greek comedy to insult another person. The widespread usage of the finger in many cultures is likely due to the geographical influence of the Roman Empire and Greco-Roman civilization. Another possible origin of this gesture can be found in the first-century Mediterranean world, where extending the digitus impudicus was one of many methods used to divert the ever-present threat of the evil eye. (Seems "the look" and "the bird" have always gone hand in hand.)

Did you see the word "comedy" in there? I smile inside every time I give someone the gift of the bird. I even warn them the gift could be coming (i.e. "have you seen my new ring?"). When someone throws a little smartass comment your way, and you've got nothing... you've got the bird. Given with a smile, I think the bird can be the compliment that says "haha you got me... that time". When you've lost and you know it, throwing in the towel with an added flick of the finger just feels better than sticking out your tongue which just causes your face to crinkle then wrinkle. Plus it is always a way to show off a manicure. I guess acting like an adult in these situations and doing nothing could work too, but how boring is that!?!

Lessons from my 30's (Part 2 - Dealing With Death)

During my 30's I would like to say I learned a good bit about dealing with death. Truthfully though, I didn't learn a whole lot more than it happens and it hurts like hell when you lose someone you love. Before my 30's my only real experience with death was that of one grandparent and a few friends in my teen years. It is true that death is easier to deal with as a child as we most definitely are more resilient. In my 30's though, I lost all my remaining grandparents, a parent, two best friends and a couple of friends since childhood. The pain of losing a parent is the hardest of those, but the others, as with most all deaths leave you with a dark cloud following you that on most days you can stay a few steps ahead of, but every now and then that cloud is on top of you... and with it comes the rain.

This week, I ran into the mother of one of those childhood friends I'd lost in WalMart, of course. We stood in the front of the store and talked for what seemed like an hour and even teared up a few times. We compared our losses to that of losing a limb, specifically a leg. You learn to walk without it, but never without the effect of the loss being evident in nearly every aspect of your life. Some of those effects I believe are not necessarily bad ones. You learn not to take life for granted and more importantly not to take your loved ones for granted. You learn what you will and what you won't spend your time putting up with. You decide who deserves a little more of you and who and what you are wasting your time on. Death can leave you bitter, if you let it. But it shouldn't. The emptiness left behind can never be filled but in can be recognized in others. My only experience in the loss of immediate family is that of a grown child who has lost a parent. So many who had experienced the same loss recognized the various feelings I was dealing with reached out to me in the way that only they could. They were my anchors.

So, in retrospect, I did learn. I learned I wasn't alone, although your loss may not be of the same person, so many of the feelings were the same and eventually you do want to share them usually with someone who understands them. People who haven't faced that loss may view you as "not getting past it" and pitying you. They don't understand what to expect from you. People who have just know. Again, that is why women and in this case men too, should share with others. Your story could be what they need to hear.

One thing I will never understand though is how someone can get through it without a Christian foundation. I know when people read a lot of my posts they have to wonder about me. I know my language and actions many times do not glorify God. It is a constant struggle to combine all of me into a person that doesn't make God look down and just shake his head with a deep sigh. But I know he loves me! I know he carried me through each loss. Knowing he was the one who welcomed my loved ones with open arms to the the most beautiful place ever is what makes me smile through my tears. How can you smile through the loss if that is a picture you are unable to fathom? How can one believe after death there is nothing else? Why would God give us all this beauty and joy on earth just to be done when our mind and body is? I've seen beautiful evidence of God in his people when life begins and when life ends. His grace is my lifeline of survival. I am thankful I have never learned what life is like without it.