The Noticer, I noticed!

I must confess that I am a critical reader. I notoriously start a book and about a chapter or two into the book I stop reading because the author couldn't keep me hooked. So, if I have gotten to the third or fourth chapter of a book the odds of finishing it go up exponentially.
This past week I got hooked by a book, The Noticer, by Andy Andrews. The idea of the book was simple; passing great advice out through a character that could have clearly been an angel. The advice was the hook. You couldn't wait for the character's next human encounter. Would it be a divorcing couple? A person ready to jump? A dishonest business man trying to get more than he deserved?
And more importantly, what on earth would this guy advise???
He claimed his whole purpose in life was to give others perspective.
I laughed at myself for identifying with the angel and his purpose, seemed a bit too bold. But I do love this blog for that very reason. We all need to be reminded of what really matters and I believe I have had enough go really bad that I can clearly embrace and recognize what goes beautiful, right or good. I hope that I am right in my grand assumption. If you enjoy this blog at all, you might want to check out this book. I am sure the experience and the fact that New York is recognizing Andy Andrews probably means it is worth your time.

Big Girl Pants

I have never once apologized for putting on my big, girl pants.  I never regret it either.

Putting on those pants means I had the courage to apologize, the courage to do something I am terrified of, or forgive someone when I didn’t want to go there.

Big, girl pants are a choice, a beautiful choice that is only chosen when I rise above the petty and go for the gold in character and action.

My big, girl pants have been in my closet for a long time.  I remember putting them on when confronted about my chameleon behavior.  People pleasing, for me, has always been the best defense for keeping the pain of rejection at bay. Frightened of not being considerate of others or a perpetual listening ear led me to a life of putting my own agenda so far back I would be dying having accomplished nothing but meeting everyone else’s needs.  My funeral would have been fabulous, but it would have reflected the bending and stretching of a person at the expense of a life.  Painful to reflect on now, but celebrated to see the power of the big, girl pants and the strength that allows me to love with my whole, complete heart instead of the timid heart afraid of revealing the lifeblood in it.

My big, girl pants become larger each time I wear them.  I find I am more self assured and more comfortable wearing them as I age and learn life’s truth and the Creator of that truth.  That doesn’t mean those pants reflect arrogance, they don’t.  Actually, it is just the opposite… they reflect a quiet humility that demands respect not attention. 

So, as you are doing the spring cleaning and deciding which clothes to throw out; I strongly suggest keeping the big, girl pants!

Mom Moments

I can't think of any Hallmark appointed day that is more honoring to women than Mother's Day.
Where would we be without the women in our lives that told us hard truths or helped us map out our paths?
I could list so many women who have made a huge impact on my life, "mom moments." There have been so many, that I have made it my mission to be one of them.
Julie's mom always kept a toothbrush for me at their house, now I have boxes of unopened toothbrushes for Eden's friends to feel like they are always welcome to stay.
Leah's mom kept ice cream in her freezer because she knew I loved it and came over after school most days. Now, I buy the groceries and keep a stock of treats for the kiddos.

My own mom gave me the hard truth every time I came down the stairs wearing an outfit that made me look bad or sporting a hairstyle that was less than attractive. Those ouch moments kept me from having some really bad pictures in the album. Thanks, Mom.
We all have them. Women who have made a difference in our lives.
Even as an adult I have beautiful women who have kept my sail straight as I weathered some pretty rough storms. Aunt Novella, Aunt Carol, Aunt Tesley, Linda, Sky, Leslie, my grandmother, my mom, Grandma Shirley, Brook, Allison, Christy, Stacey, Andrea, Candice, Tona, Krissy, Amanda, Leah, Megan, Sarah, Pamela, Holly, Jennie, Jennifer, Keil, Kelley, Teri, Kelly, Lauren, Melissa, Sharla, Stephanie, Aunt Trish, Vanesa, Aunt Ruth....to name just a few.
MAY YOU ALL BE HONORED this Mother's Day and all know that "mom moments" are passed down, and around...and most importantly, never forgotten.

Larry's Niece

If you go to any "network" dinner parties you can identify with the scene of hearing people declaring their titles.
"I am the ____________________ of __________________, so nice to meet you."
It is part of our culture, the way we place value on each other and determine some level of importance, really pathetic honestly, but a white collar trend that has stuck.
Well, I found a place those titles are shattered and the ones that really matter are pushed to the forefront....an ER waiting room. Yes, you heard me. You want to see real titles emerge, go to Saint Francis on any given evening and I bet you hear much different titles being thrown out. Titles like brother, mother, daughter...relationship titles, the ones that merit getting a pass to go back to the room.
My uncle had a severe stroke on Tuesday night, so severe that he actually had a Code Blue ringing over the intercom because he quit breathing.
In the waiting room, I was surrounded by my family. I wore the proud title of "niece" as I held my cousin that wore the title of "first born daughter." Our history of being raised through the trail of losing her sister, my mom's multiple marriages, and other family members that have gone before us gave me the honor of holding her tightly after she had just been traumatized by the experience of believing she might lose her dad that evening...a non-repeatable moment.
A moment that echoed the importance of our family titles and experiences. A moment that I was comforted by taking my title so seriously over all of the years. Unless you value those titles, they mean nothing when the storm hits. You are just a stranger with a meaningless title.
Our family values those titles...our family puts them before our professions, our volunteer positions, our church roles...our family understands that if you don't take care of the people God has placed in your family tree than your other titles are really not that valuable.
I am so thankful for that modeling. As I looked around the ER at midnight, I was surrounded by my grandparents, my uncles, my cousins, my mom....
People that placed more value in those roles than their professions, which by the way, could hold their own at any given dinner party.

Personal Everest, the Climb

We all have one. We all have a dream that we are dreaming. We all have a moment that we would love to experience from the mountain top.
A friend of mine, very talented friend of mine, has just moved to Nashville to climb his personal Everest. I actually stole this phrase from him. He is a writer, like me, so he has a lot of meaning in just a few words. I love the fact that we are exactly the same age, born the same day, and are both creative and expressive.
His climb is a personal journey that he has had since he was a kid...music...making it a living, a career.
My climb has been about being the "voice of children of divorce," giving them a say, a real voice to tell their stories. It has been a hard climb at times, but I must confess I spent ten years before the climb just standing at the base of the mountain begging myself to take the first step. I am still not completely sure what held me back from taking the first step, but I can tell you what shoved me over the rail and running up the side...DEATH, regret.
I stood helpless, holding the dying hand of one of the most talented musicians I have ever known telling me about his personal regret. The Everest he didn't climb because he thought he would have more time.
Stop standing at the base of the mountain. Climb.

Laugh

"Humor is the great thing, the saving thing.  The minute it crops up, all our irritations and resentments slip away and a sunny spirit takes their place." -Mark Twain (1835-1910)

My life is entertaining.  This morning I drove my daughter to school with small birds swooping down, flying side by side as I drove...major Snow White moment.  I laughed, yes, out loud and thought it was one of those moments that I usually miss because I am hyper focused on a to do list the size of Texas.

I have missed a lot of moments.  I don't want to do that anymore.  

I want to laugh until milk comes out my nose.  I want to laugh so hard my stomach muscles hurt and I have laugh lines.  Okay, I don't really want the laugh lines, but I do want to start really laughing.

Humor is available...and for free. Okay, not really free, it is usually at someone's expense.

Just take a trip to a public place and start people watching.  Us humans, are hilarious!  We pick our nose at stoplights, we pull chewies from our cracks while waiting at the crosswalk, we even adjust our bras like brutes.  We run down on our trails wearing too tight, too loose, too bright, or too crazy outfits.  

So, be one of the crazy ones...listen to rap music, wear yellow, eat sour patch kids, play with a booger, make fun of yourself....and laugh! 

Rewind

Today I am pillaging through papers looking frantically for my husband's car title because he is buying a new car when suddenly the excitement of the purchase is overshadowed by a letter from my dad.  The find was like a gold treasure, way more valuable than the car we are about to purchase.
So, there I sat in the attic, black Ann Taylor pants and all...dusty...tears rolling down my face because I miss so much.  I miss his beautiful handwriting, I miss his sarcasm, I miss the way he wrote like he was speaking...I miss the way he worked so hard to make it to the post office but sometimes it would take three or four trips back to his house to remember what he was going to mail.
My dad wrote the letter about his excitement of us coming to see him in Florida.  He hadn't lived there very long and he was thrilled to show us his new position at Universal Studios.  He played keyboards professionally and was thrilled to actually have business cards, not to mention a 401K.
He also was needing to express the deep grief the family was feeling as my cousin had been diagnosed with MD like his older brother.  My dad hated sharing bad news....his tender heart needed me to know before I got there.
Brian was entering the master's program at OSU and I was teaching full-time which is why we could finally afford to fly down there.  The trip was wonderful.
I am posting the letter in parts for those of you who knew him.

For those of you who did not know him, know this...if you have not experienced the loss of your daddy...take the time to value him more than a BMW or more than a position at work or even more than whatever your filled in blank is right now.  And please, savor the moments, and keep the letters, you may find yourself on your own attic floor wishing you had worn waterproof mascara and jeans.