What's The Hurry...

 

I just returned from a trip to Colorado that I took for a few reasons:
1. My sister Sue told me I should go and she bought me a ticket.
2. My brother Ken had completed a rough chemo treatment and I hadn’t seen him since before that started.
3. My niece was graduating from college and is now a badass nurse.
4. My brother Pat has a new grandbaby and it’s fun to see him in Grandpa mode.

When my plane arrived, Denver weather delayed our approach to the gate. No big deal. I was there. I knew my sister was on the other side of the door. No worries. When I saw her, we hugged, hopped on the shuttle to pick up the rental car, and made it to the hotel. Wind was fierce and after about half an hour of trying to figure out how to open the trunk, a stranger helped and we were on our way to our room before heading out to Ken’s house.

First, he looks GREAT! His hair has grown back and he was smiling and happy. It’s always good to see him and my sister-in-law Rayma. So we gathered round the table for burgers, dogs, and beers while we caught up on our story-tellin’ and remember whens. Back to the hotel for a good night’s sleep so we could head out to Pat’s house for more story tellin’ and remember whens.

When I talk about Pat’s “house” I mean his “compound”. Acres and acres, outbuildings filled with very manly equipment, my niece’s house with their own bunch of heavy gear, horses, a creek, and a lovely view. Because he has a neighbor a mile away, he doesn’t think he lives in the country. Ha!

The next day, my brothers were working so we hit the road with my sister-in-law and niece to Colorado Springs. Another brother recommended a museum to check out so we did that. (If in Colorado Springs, go to the Michael Garman museum. You’ll be glad you did.). Had a lovely late lunch, then hit the road back to Ken’s to yap until we were all tired. Our final day. We headed back to Pat’s to roam around and explore his property, wait for Ken, then grilled burger and brats and continued the story telling. Through this, I may have confirmed my suspicion that my family’s tendency to bend rules to make them fit our needs was passed from our mother who got it from her mother.

When it was time to leave Denver, we knew there would be delays at security check so we arrived very early for my 12:00 flight. Went our separate ways because our planes were at different ends of the airport. My flight was delayed. No problem. I had a book. Then it was delayed again. Then again. No problem. I’ll get there. When I finally got on the plane, I had worried texts from my brothers because 3 tornadoes struck since I got to the airport and they were in storm shelters. My plane took off, got me safely to Atlanta, where I grabbed my bag, made my way to the train. Had to change my route due to time and schedules, but still made it to my home station where I was met and brought home by my kid.

The point of telling you ALL of this is that while I was going through all of the steps to have a lovely, relaxing trip, everyone around me was freaking out. Stressing. Complaining. Worrying. To what end? We’re all here together. All in the same boat. I don’t see how fretting could make any of it better for anyone. In my experience, those people who are telling you there are delays are not responsible for the delays. So be nice. Say thank you. Be grateful that you are safely able to wait it out = whatever “it” may be.

Whether you’re flying across the country, driving to work, or just walking down a hallway, stuff happens. To everyone. Not just to you. Brush it off. Relax. Smile at a stranger. There’s no hurry.

Be Like Paul...

 

I just returned from an unexpected family reunion. There were no barbecues, games of volleyball or frisbee, but there were plenty of hugs, smiles, laughs and a lot of story telling. There were tears, too, but they were all mixed with the happy stuff. I think that’s how Paul would have planned it.

My uncle Paul lived every day with joy and love and I believe he infected everyone who ever crossed his path. As is the way in big families, I spent way more time with my aunts than with my uncles but I can honestly say that every moment spent with Paul is etched in my heart. His mantra was to be present in every moment and we kids felt that.

My mother talks about following her big brother through all sorts of adventures. That continued through adulthood. Well past retirement, she followed him on long hikes and canoe trips through the boundary waters of our northern border and beyond.  He never stopped learning and took his wisdom around the world, I loved his stories of meeting with farmers in Africa, China and various mountaintops to teach them how to raise strong, healthy animals for better milk production for the community.

While he loved communicating his knowledge, he just loved meeting people from all over the world. To him, it was a gift that others shared time with him. In return, he always brought gifts. Whether it was bubblegum, seeds, or books, giving brough him great joy. At home, he hunted treasures at garage sales and flea markets for trinkets to share. It was not unusual for him to hand over jewelry boxes to a pack of nieces to dig through for our own treasures. One of my favorite rings came from a surprise Paul visit while visiting my grandparents.

I think every child in my family has at least one wonderful story about an encounter with Uncle Paul. I happened to be visiting my grandparents with my new baby and Paul showed up. He snatched my startled baby from my arms and had her on the floor with his face in hers until she laughed. That’s who he was. Locking eyes, expressing love and joy with every one he met. Speaking for myself (and possibly for my siblings), I know that his smile, his stories, his kindness, and his love will stay with me for the rest of my life.

 I’m sad to have said goodbyes but so grateful to have had him. If you don’t have a Paul in your life, then I suggest BEING the Paul for others. Walk through life with an open heart, open eyes, and open hands to share love and kindness with others. Be Like Paul.

Embrace The Silly...

 

I haven’t written here in a while. Mostly, because the world outside my front door has gone mad and it’s difficult to gather my thoughts in any sensible way. But I’m now thinking that if everyone else is dishing out ridiculous behavior, why should I try to make any sense?

Looking back, I realize that the way I’ve survived – the way I’ve thrived – throughout my life is through laughter. It’s the best medicine, right? When things get rocky, I find the humor. Puns, jokes, silly faces, funny songs, and cartoons strengthen me

When humorless monsters are handing out fear and angst, I say “no, thanks” and burst out into “Boom Boom Ain’t It Great To Be Crazy”. When yet another dark news story comes on, I flip the channel to The Simpsons. Thank goodness for YouTube, because I can always find a song that will hug my heart.

I’m certainly not ignoring the serious things that are happening in the world. Joy and laughter give me the strength to face it and fight it. I fight with my vote, my voice, and, sometimes. Nerf guns and silly string. I’d love to be able to shove a cream pie into certain faces but DC is pretty far away and I’d never waste good pie.

I think we’re all at a loss for what we can do or should do. For me, I maintain my faith in humanity and trust that things will be righted. Meanwhile, I embrace the silly. I will laugh. I will play. No one has ever accused me of being appropriate. Why start now?