Gift

I was deeply touched by a gift given to me today. As many of you know, I have a sign on my forehead that says, "give me stuff" and I am fortunate to be offered and accept such gifts. Today was no exception.



I had the pleasure of having lunch with an old friend (not old to look at, but old in the sense that we have not seen each other in 18 years). The conversation was reminiscent and engaging. The food was palatable and time passed too quickly.



As lunch came to a close, we wished each other well and he asked me to wait a minute while he retrieved a gift for me, or for my son Quinn, from the car. Needless to say that piqued my interest, "What could he be giving that would interest either Quinn or I?". He came back with a bag with a bulky item in it. As I peered in he asked, "You know what that is .....?". I said, "An Irish sweater! Is this one my mom made?" He said, "Yes."



Emotions flooded me as I remembered my mom's hands working the knitting needles. Remembering the love she put into such things. I hugged the sweater and hugged him next. He gave some lame reason for giving it up like he has gained weight or something like that, I appreciate the thoughtfulness behind the intention. What my friend did not realize is how much this gift would mean to me at this particular time.



As for my mom, you just never know when she will show up.

Suffering

So I am reading a book that I will mention later, but first, I quote:

"Not everyone comes from a family with spirited and inspiring stories. Some of you grew up surrounded by perpetual sadness, anger, bitterness and negativity even about the "good stuff". Of course that will make it difficult for you to do other than what you've been indoctrinated into; difficult does not mean impossible. First you must have the awareness that embracing suffering is a learned response, a habit."

This got me to thinking. As a social worker I hear a lot about people's suffering. I hear about suffering within my work world, in my family, with friends and of course, I experience my own suffering. And, growing up as I did, I learned to cope with suffering- sometimes blaming others, other times forgiving too easily, and at other times forgetting the whole circumstance.

Questions surface for me. How long do you hold onto suffering? Do others deserve blame? Is forgiveness unwarranted? If someone hurts you- do you tell them? Should they feel your spite- because they deserve it? What if they did not mean to hurt you, but they did? Or, is forgiveness always a good course? When does suffering become a pattern or a habit rather than a truism within the context of your circumstance?

I know there are times when we have reminders of past hurts that rise up when we are with others. Sometimes, we have reactions at the mere hint of past suffering that can totally confuse/hurt friends, acquaintances and loved ones. Sometimes we cause the wounds. How do we chose to let go of the pain?

The fact is that people screw up all the time; they are so darn fallible. And, on top of that, they probably have had shitty experiences that contributed to their approach and reactions. An example of this is my mom. I had great empathy for her. Her life was difficult at best and she spent much of it in an unhappy place. She was bitter and angry- I think she thought she had a raw deal. In this, she did not always express herself in a loving way, often was cold and demanding, and worked to manipulate us to express some kind of control in her life. I say this only to demonstrate a point; not to disrespect my mother. (I think, in time, and through healing, she eventually found her happy place).

Anyway, after much struggle, I found a way to love my mom and I found ways to curb her manipulative behaviors but ultimately, there came a time when I expressed empathy for her and chose forgiveness rather than dish out bitterness and scorn toward her. We had the great fortune to start fresh. The change started with me- not her, the "offender". Altering my reactions, setting limits and offering non conditional love transformed things. I thank God that I took the risk and she was willing to go there with me. She was a strong lady.

I have found that for some things it is important to talk about what happened and express the hurt. For others, it is important to choose relationship over the pain- change the dynamic. Other times, it may be necessary to let go of the relationship entirely. One of the hardest things though is to forgive or love someone who has wronged you when you don't understand or have empathy for what they are going through.

What I do know or believe is that most folks want to be good to others. When something goes tilt it usually means they have been hurt significantly somehow. So that loud mouthed braggart at work, the negative relative that complains about everyone, the bible thumping fundamentalist, or the distant, cold shoulder lover is most likely bearing suffering within.

I am realizing that we have choices. We can stay in the "isn't it horrible that........" place or we can do something about it- regardless what the other person does. And, of course there is always therapy to sort through the whole mess. Then again, we would have to want to break the habit of suffering to make these choices.

The book the quote came from is called: stop whining, START LIVING by Dr. Laura Schlessinger. So far the reading has been palatable- I was not so sure when I first picked up the book.

Unsung Heros

Have you ever had a guardian angel?

Growing up we had many. Two of these I mention as I think about the 4 scared little girls that were abandoned by a drunken mother who was depressed and broken. While she laid on the couch in a stupor, or barked orders from a chair, these beautiful women pondered our fate and believed we were worth saving; merited loving.

~
My mother was many things- loving, stubborn, shy, beautiful, smart, strong, fearful, and a drunk. She was amazing and disappointing all at the same time. I think she found it hard to love herself and it sent a ripple effect on those who tried to love her. Fortunately, we had guidance and protection along the way. If we did not have that, who knows where we would be today.

~
My mom did finally give up the booze after we left the home. Her doctor helped her by diagnosing her depression and put her on Paxil. This medication really helped- she was no longer a hermit, she stopped drinking and seemed to feel better about herself. It was nice to be with her without the booze in the way. She really was (is?) a beautiful person. Those who knew her, knew this to be true. I digress.

~

One of these guardian angels is my step mother. Her name is Carole and this is her picture to the right. This Christmas, instead of gifts, we showered one another with affirmations and put them typed in a frame to present to each person. Carole was overwhelmed with emotion when she received her gift from us. It was then that I realized that she may not know what an impact or gift she has been to us.
~

This is complicated in some ways. My mom would cry to me each night after my dad left. I would try to console her, but there is only so much a 5 year old can do. She hated my father for leaving her, and probably hated Carole even more. I actively practiced this hate when I would visit Papa and Carole- feeling that I would be betraying my mom if I let my guard down or liked them even in the smallest degree.
~

But, Carole continued to love me/us. And eventually, I made my mind up to believe in her love and succumb to it. She would involve us in her daily goings on, shared her home, talked and listened with interest to our stories about school or home. She encouraged our culinary skills, gave me a place to stay when I got kicked out of Mama's house, and played numerous Boggle games (teaming up with me to try to beat my dad- I think we may have won one or two times against him). In short, she actively loved some hard to love kids. I mean - she did not have to love us and we gave her heck of a lot of flack. I am almost embarrassed to look back on how stubborn I was (a quality I get from both Mama and Papa- double whammy).
~

So, Carole, if you are reading this: know that you are special. Know that you have been a big part of saving 4 little girls. Know that you are appreciated.
~


Grace. I knew I had come across a guardian angel when I first experienced Grace. She had a presence that permeated love and acceptance. She was a quiet person, had a simple smile and communicated respect for your journey- wherever you were going. She seemed to have faith that things would turn out ok- somehow. But, she certainly had a way of moving things along.
~

Grace came to my mother when she felt truly alone. Here Mama was, a single parent, 4 children (ages 5, 3, 3 and 1), and no real income except for welfare. Grace often helped us financially when we experienced a pinch. She also made it possible for us to have a home. She actually bought a house for us to live in and just gave it to us! I can hardly fathom that.
~

For my first communion, I did not have a dress, shoes or a slip- she made them appear (she bought lacy socks to match too). When bills became too much in the winter, an envelop was passed to my mom very privately. (I was an observant child so sometimes I noticed things that were not meant to be seen). As I was applying for college, Grace made sure I had a co-signer so I could attend. Had it not been for her, I may have not had a place to live, had a first communion or attended college. This is a very real fact.
~
I'd like to believe that I have an undying spirit that would have carried me through somehow, without her support, but I deal with folks in poverty every day, and I see how the tyranny of the moment kills that spirit. She made it possible for me to dream of bigger things. I did not have to worry about money or bills. I was able to focus. (We were definitely poor, but we lived comfortably most days. We did eat ice cream for breakfast many mornings.- but other than that, we had a warm house, clothes to wear, and the basics covered).
~
Grace did many other things besides financial support. She would come over and check on us, joined in family gatherings, brought communion when my mom could not get to church, and dropped off the Sunday paper. She would share the homily that the priest would give at Sunday mass and would say a short but sweet prayer to send us on our way. And at the time of my mom's death, she made sure she got a proper burial (even though she left us before Mama did).
~
What amazed me the most about Grace is that she lived into her name so well. She accepted us the way we were. Even though my mom was in the state she was in, Grace loved her anyway. It was obvious that Grace was a reserved person- not too kid oriented, yet she loved us- always kept and eye out. Grace was a messenger from God, a gift. She carried the message of compassion and mercy.
~
Grace was a third order nun. She wore regular (albeit very plain) clothes with an interesting necklace that represented her order. She took a vow of poverty, yet had money. She just shared it with others as they needed it. She was allowed to live among people- not in a convent and lived each day prayerfully and lovingly serving others. She was quite amazing really.
~
As I have said in a previous post- I have guardian angels all around me- some in fleeting instances and others in the day to day, life existence. How blessed am I! Thank you Carole! Thank you, Grace! I won't be able to repay you- but maybe-- just maybe, I can pay it forward.

Spiritual Happenings

I know that you may think I am crazy, BUT, I feel that quite often, divine intervention happens in my life. I have guardian angels that help me remember things, I have a parking angel that rarely fails me and I have inspiration that pops into my life at just the right moments.

This kind of thing happened just the other day and this is the tale of that small but significant guidance I receive -- almost on a daily basis.

I decided to put "saying goodbye" into Google. Ever since Alanna's illness and other turns of events in my life I have recognized that saying goodbye is just as much a part of life as saying hello. And, I have known that there are many ways to say goodbye and I wanted to explore this concept.

The first search brought an article about hospice and had great advice on how to say good bye at the end of a loved one's life. This article reminded me of times with Mama and her interesting last night with us. I thought it had some good things to say about the process and reminded me that things like touch and assurance are key to the good bye process.

I then checked out a blog by Seth Godin. He was talking about how a restaurant was there one minute and gone the next ( a restaurant that he liked very much) and his point was that goodbyes are desired and needed. OK article but, not really what I was looking for. HOWEVER, on the left hand side, under Seth's web pages, there was a blog titled, "The Dip Blog".

Now those of you who know me, know that I have a thing for the word dip. Please bear with me while I tangentially tell another story. My mom gave me a beater car before she moved to Albuquerque to live with my sister Alanna. The car sat for a long time before I finally got the title transferred into my name and got license plates. This happened shortly after my mom died from lung cancer.

I remember smiling to myself when I got the license plates from the clerk. The word DIP with a few numbers was spelled out. The plate reminded me of a gift from my mom. When I was a kid she gave me a pretend road sign with the word DIP on it. She gave the my sisters signs too- ones that said "wrong way, u-turn etc." I am not sure there was any significance to the actual words given to each of us- but calling me a dip would not be too far fetched in my relationship with her. She had a very interesting sense of humor.

Anyway, ever since the purchase of the license plates, I have seen other license plates with the word DIP on them. Usually it comes into my consciousness as I am day dreaming and start to focus. Usually, the car with the plates is right in front of mine. After seeing one a day for about 10 days, it dawned on me that this was a way that Mama was "with me" on my journey each day. I shed quite a few tears on that day. I tend to do that when I realize the "truth". So, I have a knowing that she is with me regularly and keeps watch over me- either that or the folks in prison in Ohio are having a laugh, knowing that they are populating cars with DIP license plates all over town.

So, back to my original story. I happened on this DIP blog by Seth Godin that lead me to his "the dip" book. Now this is no ordinary book and even the book description gave me inspiration-- needed at that moment. The wisdom contained within was mainly focused on knowing when to quit something and when to look for the dip moment so you can work through it and ultimately reap rewards. He says it much more eloquently than I. But, I am recognizing the uniquely difficult and wonderful opportunities I face right at this moment. Discernment, faith and bravery are at the cusp of this wisdom. How will it go? Nobody really knows.

I just revel in the fact that some one's got my back and is really there for me. Blessings come in strange packages...... and, I have the audacity to take them any way I can!

In a Tiny House

This is a song my mother sang to us when we were growing up. (Mama sang a line, and we would repeat)

In a tiny house
By a tiny stream
Sat a lovely lass
Who had a lovely dream
And the dream came true, quite unexpectedly,
In a gilly gilly hosenefferkabanellerbogen by the sea.

She was out one day
Where the tulips grow
When a handsome lad
Stopped to say hello
And before she knew, he kissed her tenderly,
In a gilly gilly hosenefferkabanellerbogen by the sea.

The happy pair were married
One Sunday afternoon
And they sailed away
One sunny day
To spend their honeymoon
In a gilly gilly hosenefferkabanellerbogen by the sea.

In a tiny house
By a tiny stream
Sat a lovely lass
Who had a lovely dream
And the dream came true, quite unexpectedly,
In a gilly gilly hosenefferkabanellerbogen by the sea.