A writing Challenge

At a recent Book Club meeting we were all given fortune cookies and told to write about what our "fortune" told us. We had read the book, "The Fiction Class" and one of the exercises the author stated she used in her fiction class was handing out fortune cookies and having the class write on their "fortune".

When I read mine I had to laugh. Here's what it said: " Your love of gardening will take on new meaning in your life." How true! Gardening ended up helping me through a rough patch of my life and did indeed, give new meaning to my life and me.

Tonight our Book Club met again, here at my home. It's been several months since we discussed "The Fiction Class", but gardening was discussed as an aside. Actually, we discussed the non-fiction book, "Franklin and Winston" which covered the friendship/alliance between FDR and Winston Churchill during WWII. That in turn, led us to discuss how history has shown that the right person comes forth at the right time in human history. But what about those times when no one seems to step forth? What do you do then?

So we discussed times in our lives when we felt isolated, alone, rudderless so to speak. What did we turn to? What pulled us out of those depths, not necessarily of despair, but of confusion?

One of our members, told us how when her husband died she turned to gardening and how nurturing and growing helped her re-discover herself. Gave her confidence in her ability to nurture and care for herself.

Which brings me to my reflection. Gardening was a past time of my mother's. Over the years I watched her plant her annuals and coax them into bloom throughout the spring and summer. Once she was retired she worked on her house plants year round. Yet nothing took the place of those hanging fuchsias, the geranium window boxes, the phlox, or the petunias that she devotedly deadheaded throughout the summer. The hint of a smile hovering around her lips said it all. Mom delighted in her gardening. And Dad was her devoted servant with his nightly ritual of watering all the plants as the sun began to set. One hand on the hose and the other swatting the mosquitoes that were eating him alive. A bit of dark humor here: when Dad died we all discussed whether we should exhume him for family cookouts since he took care of all the nasty mosquitoes and the rest of us could party in relative peace!

Gardening was a learned activity for me. It truly began in North Carolina. We had moved there after living 6 years in Kentucky. Neither Art nor I really wanted to be there. My Dad was gone. Art's Mom had died 9 days before my Dad. Our kids were in Maine and Bolivia for heavens sake.! My Mom was in a nursing home in Massachusetts with Alzheimer's. But it was a job for him and you went where the job took you.

So while Art travelled to Europe for his job, I began to garden. The neighbors watched me build one garden after another just sadly shaking their heads. "The poor woman. Doesn't she know that that won't grow here? Someone should step in and tell her she's crazy!" My next door neighbor was a master gardener. He finally approached me and said "You do know that delphiniums won't last here, don't you?" Obviously I knew no such thing! I just smiled at him and said "No." He looked at me, shook his head, and slowly returned to his yard.

Here's how gardening took on a new meaning in my life: I didn't mourn the loss of my children like other folks did with the "empty nest" syndrome. I transferred my nurturing tendencies to gardening. I talked to the worms I overturned. I understood perfectly how I "displaced" them. I apologized to them and tried to coax them into new soil to replant themselves.

Every plant I set into the ground got a monologue by me and a prayer. "Set yourselves down here. Relax. Enjoy." The prayer went like this: "God, help this plant live fully. Don't pull them up by the roots and leave them wondering what the next step is."

Gardening gave me purpose. Through planting and sowing and weeding, I re-examined my own life. I pulled from my life those weeds I had allowed to flourish. I got rid of self-doubt, lack of confidence,and self-pity. I turned over the soil of my own life. I looked at all aspects of where I had come from, where I was and where I wanted to be. I brought into bloom the hopes of my own life. I let go of holding onto my kids. I came to realize that nurturing them was done in the sense of day to day responsibility. Now I could be a mentor. I could choose where to pluck and where to plant.

So gardening did change my life. It showed me that one is never done planting nor reaping. And above all else it brought me closer to that Master Gardener, God. And how grateful I am for all He has planted in my life. May I always be open to the blooms he sends my way.

My Grandson

Today I learned that my future grandchild is going to be a boy! My daughter, Jen, had her 20th week ultrasound and lo and behold the little love positioned himself to show one and all he's a male!

Wow! When I had my children, back in the dark ages, we didn't have ultrasounds. We waited until the actual birth to discover the sex of our child. What a rush to hear your daughter tell you "Mom, it's a boy." I know my daughter really was hoping for a girl. She felt more comfortable with giving birth to a girl There would be a ready-made connection if it was a girl.

I'm not so sure. When I had my daughter, Jen, I was immediately filled with concern that I would screw her up. I had had my son. Hey, if I screwed him up I had a ready made excuse. "What do I know? I'm a female. Of course I would screw up a male!" But there was this beautiful, young, innocent, defenseless baby girl. She looked up at me with her gorgeous eyes, her shock of red hair, and it seemed she was looking deep into my soul. "Are you ready for me? Can you guide me in this world I've entered? What does it mean to be female? What does the world expect of me?" I literally trembled! And on that day she was born, alone in our little cubicle, I promised her I would allow her to be her. I would try not to be an interfering, controlling Mom. That I would try my best to remember she was my daughter and keep those boundaries.

Not sure how well I've done. I do know that I have this remarkable woman, bearing a very special boy, that I call my daughter. She is bright, courageous, loving and caring. How much credit I can take for that, I don't know. I do know that I influenced her. I know how much her Dad influenced her. I know that she was born from love. That her entry into this world was celebrated by so many. My parents, Art's parents, aunts, uncles, great-aunts, great-uncles, great-grand aunts and uncles. From the moment we knew she was growing inside me, she was surrounded by love and prayers.

Jen and Adam's child, their son, enjoys the same. All over this country from Massachusetts to California,his aunts, uncles, cousins, parents, grandparents, great uncles and aunts are rejoicing. A new life!

Isn't that the best gift we can give this child? To promise him that no matter what we love him. Bring it on, little one! We want to share in your joys and sorrows. We want to support you and your parents as you find your way in this world of ours. The bottom line is, it truly doesn't matter if the Yankees or Red Sox win the World Series (ok AG, take a deep breath!). What matters is you matter. Whoever you become, whatever you pursue, whatever mission you take on as yours, your family loves you.

My Grandson is a blessing. God has blessed my family once again. Not only with a new member but more importantly, with an opportunity to show love. To see the goodness in this world. To prepare the way. To examine our lives and decide again what is truly important. Love. Love. Love. Thank you little one. For showing us, as you will do countless times I'm sure, that when it comes down to it, it's what we do with the love we are given that matters most.

Sharing our Faith

I had the most wonderful faith experience today with my friend Trudy. We talked on the phone for over an hour in which time we covered a lot of territory. We hadn't talked since May when I went back to Massachusetts for the summer. Trudy celebrated her birthday last week. I had called her and dropped off a book on prayerful reflection to her house and today she called me to thank me.

Trudy and I come from totally different backgrounds. She is a true Southern belle; she has the accent, the poise, and she dresses beautifully every day. We have even laughed about how her underwear matches her outfit! I affectionately call her "Barbie". She has a different outfit for each occasion, just like Barbie!

What many don't know is that Trudy is a deeply spiritual woman who deals with a lifelong, chronic disease. It has hampered her life in many ways and presents obstacles in new ways every day. Trudy starts each day off with praying. She has much to teach me. I pray each day and try to live my prayer life the best I can. Trudy reflects, reads Scriptures and prays each morning to help her deal with whatever the day presents to her, both mentally and physically. That is why I gave her a book on reflection for her birthday.

I'm "cradle born Catholic" as they say here in the South. Trudy is Baptist. Continents apart most people think. But Trudy and I have spent many hours discussing our religion. I have made Catholicism less of a mystery to her, I hope, and she has shown me how Baptists honor God and especially Jesus.

So this morning, Trudy and I talked about our faith, our prayer life, and how we try each day to do God's will. Not your typical "catch up" call. We both, in our own way, are trying to fulfill whatever purpose we are meant to do. I truly believe each of us is born for a reason. I welcome other's viewpoints on their religious life. What I won't focus on is our differences! Our lives are too crammed full of issues and problems to focus on that. I'd rather focus on what we share. Our love of family, of God and trying to understand what are we to do at this moment in our lives.

I shared with Trudy what's happening in my family and she did the same with me. And we told each other we would pray for the needs of our families. I told her she had uplifted me. She offered a fresh look at situations in which I find myself; offered a different perspective and renewed my faith in myself and in the wisdom of God. That's a beautiful experience.

So don't discount people in your life who you think aren't like you. Trudy and I are not that different after all. We love our families and our God. And we each are trying to do the least harm and the most good we can. As Trudy said today, "I try to act so that others see more of God and less of me." Isn't that what our lives should be?

September's end

I couldn't let September go by without sharing a few thoughts. It's been very hot, humid and cloudy here in KY until yesterday. Now we're in sweaters and rubbing our arms. No sooner do we shut off the AC and we have to think about turning on the furnaces!!

Fall is a mixed bag for me. I like it but don't love it. I can enjoy those clear blue skies and the changing leaves, but not without a slight shudder at the thought of the cold that will soon be here.

One of the things that's nice about south central Kentucky is we don't get deep cold waves. We stay pretty moderate but we do get lots of clouds and those dreary days tend to weigh me down. So right now I am enjoying the last colors of my gardens and trying to keep up with the weeds. I swear they have orgies during the night because they are all back again when I return in the morning!

I've used this month to try to organize myself a bit more and re-evaluate groups and activities in which I participate. Not easy. I'm finding that I want to be with people who enjoy each other and focus on what's important. Values are becoming so important to me. What one says and does matters. And I want to be with those who are considerate of others and open to all. There are so many great organizations and groups to join that you can get "over" scheduled. A different activity each day is a real possibility. I love people so I usually just jump in and then decide later if I want to continue.

So I'm prioritizing my activities. I want to focus on those things that make life a bit easier for others. I'm blessed to be able to volunteer and join groups and so I want my time to be used wisely. And I also want time alone. Time to reflect. To analyze, so to speak, my progress towards my goals of helping others.

So that's what I've been doing for September. Looking inwards, preparing myself for the winter months ahead just as I prepare my garden beds for the winter. Doing lots of work inside so that come spring, I can bloom too!

My son is home!

This morning my husband Art returned to Kentucky from Duxbury, MA. Our son, A.G., drove him to Providence for his early morning flight. Art came in to see our son, who is home on leave from Sudan where he works for a non-profit agency. He's based out of Khartoum where he works on micro-economic projects inside the camps for IDPs...internally displaced people. In my terminology, refugees. But as my son tells me, you can't be a refugee when you're in your own country...thus, IDPs. He also now travels to Dafur to supervise the extension of his agency's services there since the President of Sudan kicked out 13 agencies after the warrant for his arrest for crimes against humanity was issued by the International Court. Need I say more? Heavy stuff.

The last 5 days have been wonderful ones for me. First my husband got here for a little R&R. It took the arrival of our son to pull him away from his travels and work load. Art, my husband, works in international sales and spends far too many hours in the office or out of the country as far as I'm concerned. But after nearly 35 years of this I should have learned to keep my mouth shut! I still complain and fight for every moment I get!

He arrived the night before our son flew in from Sudan for his home leave. It also coincided with our 37th wedding anniversary. So what a wonderful gift! The only part missing was our daughter Jen who had to return, last week, to Chicago with her husband to finish her 3rd year of law school at Northwestern.

When our son, A.G., got off the bus from Logan Airport, I watched my husband run to him and hug him. He wouldn't let go and A.G. looked at me, over his Dad's shoulder, as if to say, "What's up with this?" My husband, Art, was overwhelmed with emotion. I know it well. The joy of seeing your child, the relief to know he is safe, and the realization that he is a man putting himself in harm's way for others. I deal with this each and every day as I start my day in prayer for my children and their spouses. This is not to say my husband doesn't. He does. His day starts and ends in prayer. But usually it's me that faces the kids on the front line. He's trapped in his job. Or he allows himself to be trapped in his job. That's another topic all together!

Our son's wife, Patty, has started a new job in D.C. She too is working to support non-profits. She works for a company that distributes and coordinates funds for non-profits, as best I can gather, and she too will be traveling to far off places. So A.G. will leave this week to join his wife and bring their dog to her. For awhile they will live apart while he finishes his job and she starts her new one.

During the few days my husband was here, we got to spend time with our son and absorb all that he has become. His love for his family is as strong as ever, his sense of humor as sharp. There is a new depth to him. He is seeing human nature in a way I never have. He is seeing what the worst in us can do. He watches what the best in us can salvage. He is incensed by the subterfuge our country is engaging in with the political parties playing their games with people's lives and welfare. He is more and more disenchanted with the "American Way." What he sees is a nation afraid to move forward. Afraid that becoming diverse weakens us. What his life experience teaches him, is that people, no matter their color, want the best for their children. Carrying that goal in their hearts, they will rise above genocide, political suppression, gender bias, religious fanaticism. And yet here, the greatest and freest land on earth, we are arguing about granting health care for the poor! For him it's an oxymoron. You are the richest land on earth yet you won't share it with your own.

His reflections clear the air for me. It makes it much more simple. You either take care of your citizens or you don't. If that's black and white, so be it.

So many thoughts and feelings rushed through me this weekend. And as a background for our family gathering to celebrate AG and each other, we watched the senior Senator from Massachusetts, Ted Kennedy, pass away and be buried. Family. First and foremost. Taking care of each other and called to public service. To share the gifts, talents and treasure with those less fortunate.

So much to share and to reflect upon. For now, I take joy in the sound of my son upstairs packing to join his wife in DC. And to know that my son is home and safe. For that I thank God.

Ah...parents!

Tonight I spoke with my dear friend Roni who is with her parents in Akron. Her Dad at 87 is in intensive care battling pneumonia, Legionnaires. Her Mom is presenting with symptoms of early stages of Alzheimers. Back home in Bowling Green, sits her husband and son minding her mother-in-law, 95, who has come to live with them for 3 months after suffering a fall in her home in Florida and several weeks of hospitalization. Her husband and his brother are splitting the care of their Mom right now...three months with one and then three months with the other.

So think about this. Roni at 65 and Chuck at 64 have 3 out of 4 parents still alive! And while living their own lives, Chuck still working et al, and being on call for their 3 children and 5 grandchildren they are now caring for 3 aging parents.

It boggles the mind, doesn't it? But that's the reality of the so called baby boomers today. We are caring for our kids' kids and their great-grandparents. Talk about the rubber band generation!!

So how do you deal with the emotions that roil inside of you when you are faced with this incredible task? Who do you cut off first? That sounds cruel but let's face it....something has to give. Do you focus on your parents who raised you, supported you, helped you with your own kids? Or do you look to the future and decide that you have to focus on your grandkids and be there for your own kids?

I don't have any good answers. Both of my parents are gone. My Dad to cancer just months after placing my Mom in a nursing home with Alzheimers. Mom spent 9 years on that ward. I watched her slip away from me and all my siblings. I'm not sure where she went for the years it took her body to finally acquiesce to letting this life go. But I stood vigil while it happened.

What's easier on a child, adult though they may be? To have a parent be "with you" until old age finally eases them into the next life, or to have them leave before their time in your eyes?

All I know is that I am witnessing my friend be swamped with decision-making and feeling overwhelmed by 3 aging parents depending on her.

Is it possible that one can live too long? I think so. What happens to families that have postponed dealing with those God-awful decisions that have to be made about final instructions, plans of what to do if Mom/Dad lives so long they can't take care of themselves? It can rip families apart. We've all seen it.

So tonight I speak with my Mom and Dad, wherever their spirits are, and I tell them how I love them. How I hope that if they had lived longer I would have cared for them in the right manner. That my brothers, sister, and I would have made the right decisions. And I admit to them my relief, that they are at peace and I never had to deal with what my wonderful friend Roni is facing.

Ah, parents. Mine, yours, ours. We came from parents, we are parents, and our children become parents. Do we parent ourselves as well as our kids? Do they parent us? Or is it that it's one continous cycle, where we are children, adults, parents, and children again? All I know is that whatever stage we are, we need to love and be loved.

Reflections of a Grey June

Well, today's the last day of June and I must say I'm not sorry to see it go.  I've been back home on the South Shore of Boston for nearly a month now and have had only 4 days of sun!!  And once again this morning it's misty and grey.

I don't mind misty and grey.  In fact, sometimes it's a welcomed relief from heat and sun.  You can curl up with a great book on a misty day and lose yourself in some historical novel or the latest best seller.  And a misty day is a perfect excuse to pull out my card making supplies and go crazy making cards.  Or sometimes I pull out the sewing machine and get to work on some project that "just has to be done" even though it's been sitting in the closet for months!  But enough is enough!!  Bring on the sun, please.

I think my mood today is a bit misty and grey too.  I've been watching my daughter and her husband rush hither and yon this summer.  She's doing her 2nd year summer associate job at a Boston law firm and he's traveling with his career.  Both are focused and seem to have endless energy.  I feel like a run down battery next to them!

I've reflected lately on my "career".  Or lack thereof.  It's like that line of most forms you fill out:  "Occupation".  It still irks me to write in "homemaker."  It's not that I'm ashamed of it.  It's just so nebulous.  Homemaker.  What is that?  

I did focus totally on making a home.  That's not easy.  How do you quantify it?  I never clocked in or out.  I wasn't salaried.  Never had a yearly evaluation.  I can just see that.  Facing my husband and kids.  "So, let's see.  What were your goals this past year?  Did you make your forecast?  I don't see any numbers here.  How can we determine your profit or loss?"  I've lived in so many apartments and houses I've lost count.  Actually, I haven't!  I've moved 13 times in 37 years.  I've lived in 4 apartments, 2 rented homes in England, and owned 6 homes.  

Hey, now that I see it in print I'm feeling pretty good about myself.  I made all these places a home for myself and my family.  I painted, papered, sewed window treatments, accessorized, cooked countless meals, cleaned, laundered and got the family rolling.  Add to that my working part time some of those years and full time during other years.

I can feel that mist burning off and the grey is lifting from my spirit.  I've had one great and successful career.  Now I just have to come up with a better term than "homemaker".  Domestic Designer?  Family Coach?   Any ideas?