Quality Over Quantity...

 

 

My husband has been gone for five years. I miss him every moment of every day. But the sadness of missing him is always taken over by beautiful memories.

When we were dating, I pushed him away because it felt too risky. My heart was too involved, too fast, I kept looking for reasons to let go. How could a person with such a large and wide circle of friends not have anything bad said about him? I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. But he held on tight until I accepted that he was worth the risk. And, as it turned out, there were no negative stories because he truly was honest and lovable, so I handed my heart over.

When we got engaged, I didn’t see the point in wasting time. He proposed in February, we pulled out the calendar and tried to gauge the best time to get all of our loved ones together for the event. Labor Day weekend made sense, so that was it. The months between were spent planning a party. And what a party it was!

I wore the dress that my grandmother wore to marry my grandfather in 1935. They were, in my eyes, the greatest measure of a couple to follow. My beloved told me there was no way he had 70 years left in him. He was a funny guy, so I laughed. And we went ahead and promised each other forever in front of a bunch of witnesses.

Moving forward, life happened. There were losses and sadness and moments of worry like every other  human has. We went on, eyes looking ahead, and kept marching, hand in hand. I don’t know if we knew that our time together had an expiration date, but our unspoken agreement was that we’d LIVE every moment together – for and with each other.

Certainly, we had our own activities and interests and gave each other space to do them, But we made the best of every moment we had. I’m sure it sounds cheesy to anyone else, but we made a decision to be happy. We didn’t fight – if we disagreed about something, we talked about it and let it go. When kids entered our picture, they were part of the equation – part of the team. That’s how people knew us, but they knew our children, too. I know that’s not typical, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Over time, I felt myself morphing into an annoyingly positive version of myself. I dropped all the pessimistic layers and sprouted genuine sunshine and rainbows that got me through the hard stuff. When we learned that he’d need a kidney transplant, I offered mine up. He worried, but I trusted. That bought us more time together. More adventures, more fun, more beautiful moments as a team. Life went on. Together.

When the pandemic came along, and took him away from us, we hung on and waited for him to come home. After nearly a year of being in and out of the hospital with little to no contact, I felt stripped of life as I knew it. Then when he came home for the last time, we were able to look into each other’s eyes and reconnect, It was a brief moment, but it gave me back the ME that had been missing. It restored my strength so I could keep moving on.

Life on the other side has been harder than I ever could have imagined. But I wake every morning, grateful for a new day, and appreciate the life we built together, He is still a part of every decision I make. His sensible ,realistic buzzkill side always balanced my Pollyanna sunshine and rainbows side. I promised forever and meant it. I’m sure that at 21 and 18, our kids don’t fully appreciate the priceless gift they had but I hope that, one day, they’ll see it. We had quality over quantity.

I can’t know what the rest of my life will look like, but I know I made the most of it so far and that whatever tomorrow brings, my chosen teammate will be in my heart, holding my hand and guiding me through the scary parts. I will always save him a seat. 

Stop The Insanity...

 

I haven’t written here in a while. Mainly because life has been kicking my ass again and again, but it seems there’s no escaping the rampant assholery that has taken over I wrote about it already, but it bears repeating.

During this election cycle, the obnoxious ads are relentless. I just don’t see the point. The large majority are far right ego maniacs who have no political goals beyond “winning” and spewing hatred. They are playground bullies with limited vocabularies and no sense of humanity or kindness. The focus seems to be about attacking opponents and stoking imaginary fear among voters.

With the Idiot In Chief leading the charge toward destructive and dangerous wars to distract everyone from all of the things he doesn’t want you to see, shouldn’t we all be focused on that instead of fictional transgender athletes in schools. Shouldn’t it be more important that schools are being shot up by sad/confused/lonely kids who are craving attention? When we want to go on vacation, shouldn’t the people who are supposed to keep us safe be PAID for the work they do instead of financing GI Joe wannabes who are terrorizing people on their streets and in their homes? And, shouldn’t the people who are screaming about their Christian faith stop and ask themselves what Jesus would actually do?

I miss the good old days when I could be in a room with a hundred other people and not know how they pray – or don’t pray – what political party they stand with, how they vote, how much money they have (or its origins), who they love, and so much more. As our country is about to celebrate our 250^th birthday, isn’t it time to remember WHY we’re here?

I won’t pretend that our founding fathers were perfect or without wrongdoing, but the very IDEA of why we’re here matters. People wanted to be able to worship (or not) the way they wanted and put it in writing that everyone have that right. We wrote laws to keep our version of God out of schools. We were taught, as young people, to not talk about politics, religion, etc. in public Also, we were taught that language matters.

So, if you’re a politician seeking my vote, talk to me about your plans to improve my life instead of throwing out random accusations about that other guy. Don’t praise Jesus while doing the exact opposite of what he taught people to do. Don’t threaten my friends and neighbors. Show me that you actually care about other human beings who aren’t lining your pockets.

That’s all. Just be an actual human being. Learn from the past. Keep growing. Don’t make me wash your mouth with soap.

Carry on. Be nice to people you meet. Hold a door. Say please and thank you.

Where Are The Grown Ups...

 

I’m weary. Just exhausted.

Over the past several years, I’ve taken my share of kicks to the teeth but I’m resilient. With each blow, I got back up, held my head high, and forged ahead. I still do but even Charlie Brown got tired of the football being pulled away and questioned whether he should try again.

It seems that the last 10 or 12 years I’ve been in some sort of Peanuts episode gone bad. Yes, Snoopy as Joe Cool was here. Linus, with his deep philosophies and security blanket was here. Schroeder continued to deliver music to my heart. Franklin and Sally brought hope and optimism and Charlie Brown kept trying while Lucy pulled the ball away before he could kick it. I’ve always wondered, we know the grownups are there but at what point do they step in?

When does Lucy have her allowance taken away or get grounded? When does a dad step in and help Charlie kick the ball? When is Pig-pen told to clean up his act? When does Marcy finally stand up to Peppermint Patty? WHERE ARE THE GROWN UPS?!?!

I’m, looking for them myself. There are always negative stories all over the news. Whether it’s the blatant assholery of the political world, random violence, or the insane increase in mass shootings, it’s a struggle to not become numb to it all. I won’t. But I’m still waiting for the grown ups.

I’ve given up expecting talking heads on TV to use proper grammar. That  ship has sailed. But civility would be nice. When commercials feature men in expensive suits taunting other lawyers like schoolyard bullies, why should we respect you? Here’s a tip: I don’t.

Wouldn’t civility and basic manners go a long way towards the return of peace and goodwill ? I think so. I vote. I speak up every time I can. That’s politically all the power I have. But MORE importantly, I can – and will – continue to spread kindness with every step I take. Won't you join me? Until the grown ups return (for pete’s sake, please come back, grown ups!!!) to send bullies to go sit in the corner, smile at strangers and mean it. Hold doors for people behind you.

Wherever the grown ups have gone, I don’t really think we need to wait for them. WE can BECOME the grownups and tell the bratty toddlers that it’s time to leave. It’s probably time for their nap. I could use a break, too.

Let's Party...

This weekend, I threw a little party. You know, just a small TWO DAY gathering of a few hundred of my closest friends. This was the fourth year for BreezeFest and they just keep getting better!

Of course, scheduling the bands was an easy task. I called my husband’s friends and they were all quick to jump on board. That’s no big surprise. They loved him and, by proxy, they love me, too.

I’ve often said that when we started dating, I was a little nervous because I had never head anyone say anything negative about him. He seemed nice enough, but I just kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. It never did. He proved every day that he was as kind, as thoughtful, and as generous as he presented himself to be. So I let my guard down. I fell madly in love with him while hoping I could live up to his example.

The first two years, this event was meant to raise funds for my family after a year of hospitalizations and medical expenses, I was grateful. But I just couldn’t stop the gathering. Being surrounded by our big musical family to celebrate decades long friendships felt too good to stop.

So I reached out to my blues family to create a fund to help other musicians and club personnel in our Atlanta Blues family. That’s what my husband would have done if he were here. Giving is what he always did. Why stop now?

My intention was good and I was looking forward to having fun and enjoying the music. I was not prepared for the way all of these crusty old blues musicians took the stage in this crusty old blues dive and just absolutely brought sparkly shiny magic one after another.

It was billed as a two day blues festival but it turned out to be a family reunion instead. There were hugs. There were stories. There was a lot of laughter. There were some tears that came with memories. There were surprises when long lost musicians came from out of town to jump on stage and I may have wept a bit when the guy everyone would least expect to be a softy sang one just for me.

I’m so grateful for every second of the event. I believe it beautifully honored the man I love and feel certain he was there most of the time. Let’s do it again next year!  Until then, keep sharing the photos and memories because that’s so good for the soul.

Meanwhile, tell someone you love them. Give them a hug. Keep them close.

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.