Rising to the Occasion of Motherhood

God

I am the kind of mother who touches her children every night and prays to god in heaven to make them smarter, braver, stronger, and better than the way they were the day before.

I ask that they be kind and direct and courteous and love their parents.

I ask to make them better at what they love and put music in their hearts in the morning.

I pray to make me a better mother, but if only one prayer can be answered, I want god to care for them.

I am the kind of mother that weeps when they fail.

I shake when they are on stage and I gasp when the spaces of breath are too long.

I am the kind of mother who waits patiently for them to figure out the math.

I am the kind of mother who says wipe it up, I’ll make more.  It doesn’t matter.  Breathe.

I am the kind of mother who explains boys don’t get it as fast as girls and that the pamphlet forgot to say ask permission to touch any one under any circumstances.

I am the kind of mother who said you can save yourself for marriage.  It is always an option.

I am the kind of mother who says you will need your brother one day don’t talk to him like that.

I am the kind of mother who cries secretly, fearing their future and praying I did enough.

And ten years after writing these words, I am still praying.

The Inspiration: The Original Rising

Sometimes in life you make deals.  Deals with God that you’ll be forgiven or you won’t be discovered.  Deals with people that let you down or deals that are kept and honored.  Occasionally, there’s the deal within the deal—unchangeable—a hidden charge to your soul, an ongoing accounting. 

My friend was diagnosed with prostrate cancer in 2000.  His name is Fred,Ted, John, Steve.  His name is every man.  He is 58 and single, divorced actually, relatively short and a little thick in the waist these days.He is an all-American guy with an interest in sports and a hope of getting laid. He says he is charming, witty, intelligent, and an Italian stallion.

Now, there is this cancer.  And a deal has to be made--a charge to his soul, the compromise of his life.  He would live and live longer but not as he had lived nor loved not ever.  The deal within the deal.

He was devastated, of course, by the news.  He asked those whom he chose to tell, not to tell anyone else.  That never works. He consulted many folks on which approach to the cancer he should take.  There was the cut from the front, the cut from the bottom, just radiation, or chemo.  Different surgeons, different hospitals. 

He is the analytical type who researches everything. He had two major concerns: losing bladder control and never having sex again the way he had before.  Live longer; live without this part of life.  The scale of fate.  The bargain.  

He’s reminded of a movie with Jane Fonda, some one whom he, a Vietnam vet, would not ordinarily care to remember.  Something tells him deals have a code, just like the codes in naval intelligence school. A code to understanding the charge to his soul he had not counted on, at least not where it mattered. 

He rented the movie with Fonda and John Voight or was it Kris Kristopherson?  Doesn’t matter now.  He walked away with something of value from the movie, although the main character never walked again.  Yet another deal for the soul, serve your country at the cost of never feeling below your waist.  Then, there is an opportunity that could only be present because the deal had been struck.  The deal is you have to love someone in more than one way.  Sometimes, we don’t know what love is until we have to give it under unusual circumstances; sometimes love is present in ways we don’t expect.

There are new opportunities, if only we can see them, but they aren’t told in advance. Soul bargains, the deal behind the deal. We can win if we are patient and true to ourselves. 

He has won two years of cancer-free checks, and though he is not restored to his former self, he is a person with a renewed sense of life and friends, of integrity and strength. He plans on running the 10k on Easter, and he tells himself running 6.2 miles for a recovering cancer survivor ain’t bad.

He tells himself the deal isn’t complete.  He is looking to challenge the hidden bargain, but that will have to wait until after the race, after he has mastered the code.

Today, he was told that his good friend has pancreatic cancer.  He went to see his friend and console him.  He took the code with him, hoping to break another encrypted message from above. 

He rose to the occasion.

Again.

of becoming your mother's care giver

I have had many challenges in my life, but none so hard as realizing that the last ever care free shopping trip with my mom happened in June.  She is facing heart issues and other stuff and isn’t carefree right now.

But I can tell you, amongst the grief and anger and emotional upheaval, is a group of incredibly strong staid women who face those like me and my mom every day.

I can tell you that the woman named Jackie, that washed my mother while she was in physical rehab, made her happy.  My mother said she had never been so clean and refreshed.  And when I told Jackie, she blushed and said thank you.  Humble, kind and reliable.  Jackie is the true meaning of the everyday elder care hero.

Then of course there is Martha, the stalwart, who knows how care should be and takes it personally and takes pride in her investment of time.  Martha is the queen of "I can get her to eat again" folks.  She has already proven herself with the yogurt that she made mom eat.  Martha makes companies like Hope Well be successful.

And tonight, there is Alma, the night caregiver, who will stay awake in case my mother gets up.  And she will read in her chair and listen and oh by the way, water is fine, I don't need coffee to stay awake.... Alma.

And may I tell you that there are others who helped in this process whose names I don't have down on paper.  The ones who said, "you are amazing for showing up every day and looking out for her".  The ones who came down the hall to tell me they think that there is no hope or all hope or just a hug or just a good bye squeeze.

My father asked what was her name?  I tried to explain.  I don't know Jackie's last name, but I know she has three kids and one has football on Thursday's.  I don't know Janice's last name, but her sister lives in Quitman and her mom is at home for now.

I don't know the night nurse or the day nurse or even the head social worker's name.  But I know they all came down the hall to hug me, to catch my tears or just tell me to go outside for a few moments.   I know the ones who wear red and the one's with matching eyeglasses.  I know the young one that wanted to wear green nail polish and the cranky old one who told me that he should be present to discuss how my mother behaved on medication.

I don't know the outside of them anymore than I know the outside of my mother.

I know the inside of them is warm and loving and wanting and alive.

I know the inside of my mother is still a mess.  And it may never change, it may always change.

What doesn't change is my memory of our last shopping trip and the girls day out.  And I miss her already and I love her forever.  Thank you mom, for every one you have been and everyone you are and for being my rock.  You still are the amazing woman I love.

Rising to the Occasion of the Little Red Dress

So, on the girls' trip Coast to Coast I was feeling really good.  While on the trip (BIG SECRET), I  bought a red dress. Yep, I mean RED dress.  The kind of dress that you put on when you are fifty five, and proclaim, " yes there is a young woman in this body!"  "Yes, I do have a shape!"

And of course, three weeks later, it was time to wear it in public.  The little red dress that looked fabulous in the dressing room of the  store in Dunedin, Florida, suddenly seemed so ridiculously not right.  I mean, it was a what was I thinking moment.

I should have known my confidence would wane.  First, I was with some of the best women in my life at the time: my daughter, my sister in law and my mother. Secondly, I was in a fabulous boutique that sells clothes with tags like: stop staring!!!!! So, the combination said buy it now for your work summer conference banquet!  The days slipped by. And the dress stayed in the bag.  The bag from kina kouture.

On the Sunday before conference, I asked my friend (we'll call her Tammy), to look at the dress and the other choice (another red dress) and tell me what she thought.  She said to wear the Stop Staring dress.  I was still insecure.  So, I tried on the "conservative" dress.  I think it was too snug in the wrong places.  I have lots of wrong places.

Aging brings lots of issues, not the least of which is you s-l-o-w down.  I don't mean in speed, I mean in metabolism.  The things I used to eat, now stay with me, usually on my midriff.  The things I used to do, now I don't do with the same vigor.  Now I admit, some of this is my fault.  I don't work out as much as I used to.  I don't run after the horses or the children.  I don't run or even jog or walk as a rule.  I turned into a traveling middle age woman with too much travel and not enough movement.  Working on that, but...

So, I do what wise persons don't.  I ask for a second opinion and I tell Tammy, that I was going to do so!  And as you can guess, Tammy says, "what you don't trust my opinion?" Shoot me.  Really, just shoot me.  I mean I am trying to have a middle age insecure moment and what happens?  Tammy tried to out do me!  REALLY?

Tammy is cute as a bug's ear and when she shows up in the elevator, she is take your breath away gorgeous.  She has poofy hair.  The kind of poofy hair that is styled and intended, not my kinky curly mess that is always on it's own in the Florida humidity.  She is in fancy black and pretty shoes and she smells great.  Wow, and I am supposed to compete with this!

So, both of us go out the door, me in my red dress and she in her black.

Okay, not so bold.  Haven't shown you the red dress.  But, you now know I had totally cute shoes... even the old and insecure can have cute shoes....

I had to hide the red dress with a black shawl.  Partially, the reason is the freezing temps in a hotel, but mostly, because I have a not flattering waistline.  And because the new President being sworn in is tiny and cute and the PRESIDENT! So, here is the red dress.  The middle age over weight woman in red is me.  I used to be the one with the tiny figure, so the new me is different. But I WORE MY RED DRESS.  and I showed my daughter that confidence is only one shawl away... no kidding.

I showed my daughter that you should do what makes you happy, whether it is a red dress at the summer conference or a year in Germany trying out for dressage teams or in Tammy's case, trying out being a big sister.

So why would anyone be self conscious in this environment?

And this is my view from the condo and could anyone be unpleasant in this beautiful environment?

Rising to the Occasion of the Aging Horse Lover

When I Am An Old Horsewoman
I shall wear turquoise and diamonds,
And a straw hat that doesn’t suit me
And I shall spend my social security on
white wine and carrots,

And sit in my alleyway of my barn

And listen to my horses breathe.

I will sneak out in the middle of a summer night

And ride the old bay gelding,

Across the moonstruck meadow

If my old bones will allow
And when people come to call, I will smile and nod
As I walk past the gardens to the barn
and show instead the flowers growing
inside stalls fresh-lined with straw.

I will shovel and sweat and wear hay in my hair

as if it were a jewel

And I will be an embarrassment to ALL

Who will not yet have found the peace in being free

to have a horse as a best friend

A friend who waits at midnight hour

With muzzle and nicker and patient eyes

For the kind of woman I will be

When I am old.

-Author Unknown

(Thanks to Equine News Today)

"Equine Wound and Infection Treatment Liquid Trigger (16 oz.)"

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Rising as in the Waters of the Pacific

Had a marvelous cross country trek.  In less than three weeks I traveled to  Baltimore, Maryland, Tallahassee, Florida and Laguna Beach California, Tampa and then Tallahassee!

Let me tell you the time does take it's toll.  When I flew into Tampa and had to work the day after the red eye, I was one tired pup.  But enough of that, let's look at the trip!

View from the hotel terrace of the Montage Resort Hotel where we spent two nights. http://www.montagelagunabeach.com/

The rocks cause the surf to swirl making a beautiful vista right out of the front balcony and perfectly aligned with the hotel.

Dana takes a photo of the view whilst I take a photo of her!

the views are marvelous as the hills rise out of the clouds to present a  contrast to the white sugar sands of the  gulf coast beaches that we are used to seeing in Florida.  And the plants were unbelievable.  California is blessed with desert and coastal plants all in the same location.

So, off we go on our first morning, up and out by six a.m. because that is nine a.m. our time.  Rocky coastline, such a variety of textures and moving waters as tide goes in  out and around where we are.  Rushing waves let the slip of cold waters come further to our toes as we walk.  The coolness surprises me, as it is really cool, not just new water cold.

The rocks on the beach hurt bare feet and cause one to walk on tiptoes even though it doesn't help!

So the light of day brings the view of the pool and the pacific.  What a fabulous place.  They hold a lot of weddings here and probably many more gala events.

This is Jenn.  She is our consultant and the host of our training at this wonderful hotel.

Dana and Jenn pose at the lobby of the hotel.

Then off to a dinner at a famous home built in an European style on tip of a cliff side.  Incredible views and construct.

Dinner was amazing and the people were fun and interesting.  Most business dinners are not very comfortable, but this one was wonderful!

This is the view of the pool at this incredibly built home.  The  shadows to the right are the hot tub.  Amazing design and use of the slate, the water, the light and warmth.  Then....

After the meetings, I headed out and drove to the airport. Took the redeye to Tampa so that I could visit with my Mother, sister in law, and daughter.  The fun day at Tarpon Springs http://www.spongedocks.net/ eating smelt and lamb and tasting the life of the greek culture.  We all bought hats and sandals and wished we could belly dance and thought of the Greeks across the seas....

After the fabuloso lunch and shopping trip, we went to the house in Crystal Beach to nap.  And Three hours later we were off for a night out!

This is Morgan in her new dress examining the restaurant http://www.thelivingroomonmain.com/ which was unique and very tasty.  We had tapas and ordered four different dishes to taste and one very tasty cocktail, the skinny ginny.  That is a cocktail with basil and cucombers and gin and lime and tonic and agave.  It is really sweet and makes you smile when you drink it. http://www.thelivingroomonmain.com/docs/DinnerPg11.pdf

Last shot is the dog, jumping in the pool at Uncle Bill's kid pool.  A perfect pool ending for the best trip ending in awhile