Peace

Peace we think As we hear of another casualty of war. Peace we whisper As we watch tragedy unfold on TV. Peace we say As we read newspapers of violence. Peace we sing As we attend our churches and healing places. Peace we shout As we attend rallies and vigils for the victims. Peace we scream As we wash the blood from our sidewalks and driveways. Peace we cry. As we fold ourselves in helplessness. Peace we pray.

Beach Feet

So, I just got back from a long wonderful weekend in Oregon. My sister, Janet, picked me up at the airport and from the first hug I knew I was in for an amazing time. We drove in her car filled with buttons and knick-knacks about peace and love and acceptance. We called Mom and she said she wished she was in the back seat spending time with us. At Starbucks, the waitress put an empty chair at our table and we immediately felt Mom was with us. Janet took out an index card and wrote "MOM" on the card. We took a picture of Mom in the back seat. We went to a few different stores looking for a sweatshirt for Ava, my granddaughter. Picture of Mom at Fred Myers and Old Navy. We went to Barnes and Noble and bought colorful little books to write dreams, plans, ideas, and BE KINDER inspirations. Picture of Mom on a shelf of books.

Next we went to the library in Prineville so I could see where Janet checks her email. Picture of Mom on the shelf between the computers we were using. We met Dan, Janet's husband at a Mexican restaurant for a delicious chicken chimichunga and company. Picture of Mom at dinner. We stopped at a little grocery store for snacks and stopped at another place and got lottery tickets, taking pictures of Mom along the way.

At Janet's home, Mom sat on the couch and posed with bunnies in the warmth of the fire. Janet has thoughts and sayings all over her walls and shelves and shelves and fridge. It is a homey home. We spent hours sitting at the table drawing on my jeans bag, sweatshirts, and our books. The company was great. We seem to inspire each other. We enjoy each other. I slept on the comfortable couch with an ergonomic pillow.

The next morning Dan went out early and brought me coffee and I helped him figure out how to take pictures and put them with the names on his phone. We left for Portland early and met a strong, healthy-looking coyote on the road. The drive was beautiful with the mountains, trees turning color, and the river along the side of the road. We shared deep conversations, opinions, advice, and just listened. We are a lot the same. We are a lot different. We are parts of each other.

We got to Tayo, my son's house. Sigh. I love him so much. Ava giggled when I tickled her and loved her sweatshirt. We took pictures of Mom and the group. We gathered our things and left for the dollhouse show. Ava loved seeing all the little things and had to touch everything. She would pet toy animals and pretend to drink from little cups. I bought her a swing-set to keep on their fireplace mantel until I could get her dollhouse from Arizona to Oregon. We took a picture of mom in front of a display of little dollhouse people.

We left for the beach. Tayo drove. We talked and sang songs and enjoyed the nature outside and company inside. The time at the beach was amazing. They had predicted rain and wind and it was sunny and dry...still cold and breezy...but sunny. We walked on the beach and Ava and I walked in and ran from the cold water. "Gramma Sandra, I want hot water!" Squealing, laughing and crying all at the same time. We took pictures. Janet put her thongs on the beach and I propped Mom up and stepped back to take a picture. Mom decided she wanted to run in the wind. I had to chase her down the beach, all the while laughing and hearing Janet, Tayo, and Ava laughing too. We finally got the picture and went up to walk through the little shops of Seaside. A salt water taffy store with 171 flavors. Picture of Mom in her favorite black licorice taffy bin. Ava rode a carousel...all by herself. We went to a restaurant for dinner, and took Mom with us.

After dinner, we went back down to the beach to watch the sunset. Amazing....as always. I took the picture of our feet then. It is funny how many thoughts this picture provokes in me. I think of the physical part of the picture, like being close. I think of where those feet have walked and will walk. I think about what it would be like to have a different pair of feet. We took a few other pictures but it was took dark to really feel the atmosphere. Tayo drove us the hour back to his home. Ava serenaded us with school and church songs. We finally figured out where her fear of trolls came from. Topic for another blog. It was a peaceful, comforting, closer-growing drive.

At Tayo's, Ava fixed Janet's hair and we all just visited and learned more about each other. Tayo moved Ava's mattress out to the floor and settled her in under a quilt that Mom had made her. We took pictures. I read a Winnie The Pooh story to her and we were ready for bed when Ava jumped up and announced that she was "sleeping with my daddy". With a quick wave and grin she was gone.

In the morning, Tayo drew in a square on my bag. Ava did too. We talked about my BE KINDER campaign and the room was alive with positive energy. Tayo drew a tattoo on my wrist BE KINDER. The touch was heart-warming. I gathered sticks with moss from their backyard to add little birds to for the fireplace mantel and to take home. We packed up the car, hugged a little bit tighter, and waved as I felt part of my heart being left behind.

Janet and I drove through wet roads and fall-colored trees and found a tasty bakery with calories just oozing from everything. This bakery/country store had old fashioned taffy, candy, pop, and toys. We took a picture of Mom in front of a display of cream-puffs and ate sandwiches and cookies. When Janet and I drive places we like to ask questions. We take turns and both answer the questions and explore the answers. It is an amazing way to learn about each other and ourselves. Sometimes the answers are surprising. Those times are some of my favorite memories. Janet dropped me off at my brother Doug's home and we hugged a little tighter.

Doug. Oh, I love my brother. He is sort of gruff and talks a little tough, but the sparkle and glint in his eyes gives him away. I took a picture of Mom on his drum set and Mary, Doug's girlfriend took a picture of Mom, Doug, and I. It was fun getting caught up with each other and talking about things from our childhood. Funny how memories are different depending on what your perspective was at the time. I shared my plans for, and thoughts about, BE KINDER. Patrick, Mary's brother was accepting of it and thought it was a good idea. Mary thought it was a nice idea. Doug gave me a bad time, jokingly. "Why do you need to remind yourself to be kinder? By writing that on your arm, aren't you saying you're not kind enough?..." It was all in good fun. They fed me pork-chops, salad and wonderful baked potatoes with spices. Doug and Mary went to bed and Patrick and I stayed up late talking and sharing about how messed up the world seems to be. About how nice things were for the 6 months after 911. He went to bed and I called Mom to check in and share about my day.

The next morning, Doug and Patrick left early to get supplies for a plumbing job later. Mary and I spent the morning visiting and watching Dr. Oz. When Doug came home, he bent my bracelet into a ring for me and packed up my things. He picked two strawberries for me. I ate one and the other one was heart-shaped so I saved it. In the truck I said, "I know you think I'm a little hokie sometimes Doug. But, I think that I am a bright spot in your life." He laughed, smiled, and glanced at me with those sparkling eyes. "Yeah." He helped me into the airport and hugged me hard when I left.

So, you'd think that was the end of my trip. When I got home, I called and told Doug I made it okay. He said, "You lost something off your bag. It is on a green ribbon and was in the truck." (I have probably 10-15 different charms and things hanging off my bag.) I said, "Oh, heck. What was it?" He said, "It was on a green ribbon and was silver. Let me go get it out of the truck." I was trying to remember what charm it was. He came back to the phone and said, "Okay, it's on a green ribbon, little silver charm and it says.........Be Kind." I laughed so hard. "See! You're supposed to have that!" We both laughed and bantered back and forth. He said he was going to mail it to me, throw it out the window, etc. But, I bet he'll leave it in his truck's console and think of that moment whenever he sees it.

It was an amazing, thought-filled, miracle moment-filled, memory-making trip. I can't wait to do it again.

Today's challenge: Take a picture of your feet with a friend or family member.

How Many More Children Must Die?

Some things are simply incomprehensible. Another baby has died at the hands of a parent. She was only 3 weeks old and beaten to death by her father. It makes me ill and I literally feel a piece of my heart break off. There is no place in my brain where I can even begin to understand any part of this situation. It is natural for us to try to find reasons for bad things that happen, as if somehow that will bring peace to our minds and hearts. It is hard to accept sometimes that things "just are". Whether we can some how reason through the thoughts of people who do bad things or not, it does not change the horror of their actions. I heard, "He didn't now how to take care of a child." Oh my God. Basic level of care is something every person older than 5 understands. You don't beat a child. Simple as that. It is true, there is not one specific manual that has all the answers on how to be a parent. There are a lot of self-help books and advice books, but not one that answers every single question. It would be impossible to write. We all, mothers and fathers, learn as we go. We take the lessons that we have learned in our lives, the experiences we have had as children being parented, throw in some common sense and somehow we muddle through. Even the worst of parents know you have to provide the basic needs for a child; nutrition, bathing, medical care, and hopefully comfort and love. I cannot, for the life of me, understand what has gone terribly wrong in a parent's psyche that would allow them to hurt their own child. There is something so instinctual about being a parent, that to lose that is unfathomable to me. I am not so naive to think it doesn't happen, I am merely saying I cannot understand it. I think there needs to be more information and publicity, perhaps a movement, emphasizing to parents and even non-parents, the extreme importance of caring for our children. There are churches and places where it is okay to drop off a child if you feel they are in danger, no questions asked. My concern is, why only churches and a few other places? Why not everywhere? Makes me wonder if there were more options available to these parents, if more of our children would be saved. Hmmm, our children. We should all feel more responsible for the children of this country. Obviously, health care, education, nutrition, etc., are topics always discussed, but I am talking about safety. I wonder about all these children who have died at the hands of their parents. There had to be someone, anyone, in their lives that suspected something. A neighbor, a teacher, a person in line at the grocery store, a mailman, another child. I seriously doubt that one particular day these parents woke up, out of the blue, and said, "Today I am going to kill my child." Someone somewhere had to have had a sense that something was going on. I wonder, afterwards, if those people who didn't do anything, feel any sense of responsibility. There are no other 2 words in the English language that can affect a person's life more than "what if". What if I had called the police? What if I had taken the child home with me? What if I had talked to the spouse or other family member? What if I had intervened in any way? Would that child still be alive? What would I say to those volatile parents who "can't handle it anymore"? Bring your child to my house. Leave your child at your house and call someone to go get them. Take your child to a church, hospital, fire department, police station. Drop your child off at the library, grocery store, mall, anywhere. Leave your child in a parking lot or on street corner with a note. Anything, anywhere, anytime. There is no excuse you can come up with that will justify your hurting or killing your child. What would I say to those people who get "the feeling" something isn't right with a child's home life? Be aware of the children you see. Talk with them, be their friend. Be their advocate. Investigate. Ask the parent point blank if they are abusing their child, their reaction may answer your questions even if they don't. Call the police or Child Protective Services. Offer to take the child to somewhere safe. Follow through. Be persistent. Don't let yourself sleep peacefully until you know that child is safe. Today's challenge: Be acutely aware of the safety of those around you.

Always A Mother

When a baby is born, a mother is also born and will always be. The connection can never be broken and is inherent. From the first cry, our purpose in life changes. For the first few months our lives revolve around the needs of the baby; the sleeping schedule, the feeding schedule. Their needs come first, as it should be. We protect them from sick people. We bundle them up, probably too much. We worry over runny noses and puffy eyes. We know our baby is the cutest. As a baby grows and begins to explore their surroundings by rolling over and crawling, we vacuum more often and clean better. We protect them from things on the floor. We watch them constantly so they won't put things in their mouths that don't belong. As the baby starts to crawl and struggles to walk upright, we hold their hands, trying to keep them from falling. We smile and clap our hands encouraging them to walk towards us. We praise them with smiles and hugs when they take their first steps. We again childproof our homes with outlet plugs, locks on cupboards, and moving fragile things out of reach. We buy them sturdy shoes so their feet will develop correctly. We suddenly realize how quick they can be, and how mischievous. We worry even more. We protect them from their curiosity. Our lives are theirs and theirs are ours. We are the most important people in their lives. They look to us for approval. They look to us for basic needs. They begin to understand what makes us happy, sad, mad. They are developing their own personalities and preferences. They throw tantrums. We try to understand them. We make excuses for their behavior. We sigh and try to remember this too will pass. Most of the time, though, they love to be with us. They stay close, they hug us, they want to sleep with us and cuddle. They panic when we are out of sight. We encourage them and comfort them. When they start school, we panic. Will they be okay? Will they make friends? Will they behave? Will they miss me? We talk to the teachers. We can't wait for the first day to be over. They survive. We sigh and smile at their stories. Through the years, we go to sporting events and concerts. We make treats for classroom activities. We talk through friend problems and betrayals. We talk to coaches and teachers on behalf of our children. We help with homework and argue about grades. We try to protect them from bad influences, bad choices, bad people. We make decisions for them and try to help them understand the "in your best interest" concept. We sometimes confuse being a parent and being a friend. We try to protect them as they scream they don't need our protection. When they graduate from high school, we are so proud. The decisions they make now are their own and we are supportive. Again we are learning as mothers to protect from afar. Our hearts break at their disappointments. We watch them grow. We watch them learn. We watch them become the adults we hoped they would become. We meet friends, some we like and some we don't. We learn to trust them and their decisions. We protect them in our hearts and minds. We worry about them. We love them...in a different way. As our children become adults, I think we struggle with our roles. Are we a friend? Are we an advisor? Are we a sounding board? Are we a nuisance? Are we too involved? I would like to think we are everything. Most of all, I hope I am a comfortable, safe place. A place where it doesn't matter if words are spoken or not, if opinions are the same or not, if beliefs are the same or not, if priorities are the same or not. A place where they will always feel protected. Today's challenge: Make a child, regardless how old they may be, feel protected and safe.

One Of Those Days

I'm sitting here trying to inspire myself to write. I'm having a hard time getting past the whining today. I figure most people don't want to hear about all that, hence the struggle to find words today. Sometimes, for no particular reason I just have "one of those days". I lovingly call them "Gram days" because whenever I would have these kinds of days I could call Gram and just hearing her voice on the phone would make me feel better. Mom does that for me now. Funny, how my thoughts vacillate between feeling sorry for myself and being angry with myself for complaining about my little problems when the world is full of others with seemingly insurmountable issues. But.....I find myself coming back to myself. It is amazing to me how one issue in a person's life can bleed into all other areas. It can affect the way you think about everything else going on whether it is actually related or not. Like writing this blog. Anyway, that's it for today. Today's challenge: Take care of the things you can, accept the things you can't.

What Type of Bird Are You?

Yesterday my friend and I went for our morning walk with my 2 labs and the heat of the Arizona early morning. Every time we walk it's almost a nature-seeking mission. Lots of rabbits and random birds along the railroad tracks. We occasionally see a roadrunner but not as often as we would like. There are a few quail that every once in a while will come out from hiding, almost a reminder to us that they are still there. We watch hummingbirds as they whip through the sky, very occasionally coming to a standstill on a branch. Yesterday, however, was different. As we walked, I looked at a scraggly tree with only a few leaves but lots of branches. I said to my friend, "Is that a roadrunner in that tree?" She said, "No, roadrunners don't go in trees." As we looked closer though, sure enough, it was a roadrunner. He was crouched on a branch with his long tail up at a strong angle. We were thrilled. As we looked closer at the tree we also saw a dove and what looked like a common sparrow. It wasn't too long and they were joined by a hummingbird stopping for a rest. So, there we stood, looking at the roadrunner, dove, sparrow, and hummingbird together in this leafless tree. It was an amazing site. We wondered for a minute if perhaps there was a snake at the bottom of the tree keeping them trapped. We didn't go look. As we continued on our walk, I couldn't stop thinking about what an odd site that was. I have a tendency to look for messages in things that seem out of place or not as they normally would be. I began to think of the site as extremely metaphorical. The tree became the world, the birds became representatives of different types of people, races, religions, countries. What a lesson to be learned by those flying creatures. If you look at birds as the species and the types of birds their sub-species in the same way as people being the species and race, religion, etc., as their sub-species, and the tree as a family, a school, a community, a state, or a country, and then see them all living in the same space, it will lead your mind to consider the what ifs. You can take it a step further and if there truly was a snake keeping the birds trapped in the tree, who or what would be the snake in the second scenario? Were the birds truly trapped or were they being protected? Or, did they simply make the choice to share the same tree? Makes one wonder. Sort of rambling today. It is amazing how many different thoughts can be inspired from a simple picture or situation, if we are so inclined to let our minds wander through the possible messages. As I think of those birds in the tree, I wonder what type of bird I am. Am I the roadrunner who is so graceful in its escape, quick, and running with purpose, living on lizards, berries, and the occasional small bird? Am I the dove who speaks with a peaceful voice, spending time in flocks, eating seeds and bugs from the ground? Am I the sparrow who seems to have family everywhere, not really bothered about anything that is happening around it, eating anything that it happens to find? Am I the hummingbird who is constantly flapping its wings almost frenetically, flitting from sweet flowers, and only occasionally stopping to catch its breath? If I had to choose, I couldn't. I am a little of all four. Today's challenge: Think about what type of bird/person you are and how you relate to those around you. Do you live peacefully in your tree?

Support Our Heroes

My dear friend took this picture of her husband as he left her and their son to go to Iraq. It really is a simple picture but very loud. The second it came up on my screen, my heart cringed a little and my mind began to race. I consider myself a compassionate person and would like to believe that I have felt the worry and pride in the families of our troops, simply because I am an American. But, until a few years ago when this man did his first tour in Afghanistan, I never understood the depth of those emotions. The volume on the TV seemed to get louder whenever I heard the word Afghanistan. I would picture my girlfriend sitting in front of her own TV with the same concern. As I look at this picture of him, and knowing the type of man he is, I imagine his backpack is not only filled with clothes and gear, but with the weight of his family, his friends, his country. I imagine there is a tear or two on his face as he leaves his wife and baby boy. I imagine he's thinking about all the things he's going to miss out on as his son grows and learns. I imagine he can't wait to get settled somewhere so he can have the first video chat with them. I imagine he's already thinking about the first care package from home and seeing the pictures of those he's left behind. As I look at this picture of him, and knowing the type of man he is, I imagine he is anxious to get on with doing the job he was trained for. I imagine his chest is puffed out a bit knowing he is serving his country in the most deliberate way of all. I imagine he can't wait to fly his first mission, and second and third. I imagine he's looking forward to spending time with his buddies and the support they are for each other. I imagine he's thinking about how much he loves what he is doing and how determined he is to be the best. I imagine he is hoping the time will go by fast. I don't pretend to know really anything about the fighting that is going on or, for that matter, where. I don't think anyone knows for certain why it truly began. I don't really understand what the mission is, what the goal is. I don't think anyone knows everything about any given location and the extent of the fight, although speculators claim to. I don't know, sometimes, how I feel about it all. I do know that I support my friend in his mission. I do know that if he feels strongly enough about what he is doing and the reasons for it that the very least I can do is support him, thank him, and pray for him every day. I do know, that simply because I am an American, that it is my inherent duty to support those who are fighting battles for the rest of us. I do know, that simply because I am a friend, it is my inherent duty to be here for his wife simply because. As I look at this picture of him, and knowing the type of man he is, I wipe the tears from my face, take a deep breath, and wish him luck. Today's challenge: Whether or not you agree or disagree with the fight, find a way to support those fighting.

How Will You Be Remembered?

I wonder if you truly contemplate that question and answer it honestly if it would cause you to live your life differently. I hope I will be remembered as a little girl who loved family picnics and sleep-overs. A tomboy that played kickball and hide-and-seek with the rest of the neighborhood kids. A child who had compassion for stray animals and wounded birds. A child who respected the adults in her life and helped them whenever she could. A little girl who loved laying in bed at night listening to the Thursday night Bridge parties her mom would have and secretly getting caught up on the gossip that was whispered. A little girl who loved the smell of her dad's clothes when he would come home from work smelling like fresh-cut lumber. A little girl who enjoyed spending time with her brothers and sister, playing board games, drive-in movies, and long family trips. I hope I will be remembered as a teenager who pushed the limits a little too far sometimes, but basically was a good kid. A teen who made some big mistakes but managed to eventually come out smarter for having learned the lessons. A friend to those on sports teams, cheer-leading squads, 4-H groups, and Drama. A student who was creative and who, even though didn't make straight A's, still managed to graduate in good standing. A student who teachers remember as respectful and helpful. A teenage daughter who has apologized for the worry she caused her parents. I hope I will be remembered as a young woman who tried to finish college but lost her way, only to venture into times in life that caused discord for many. A young woman who stood strong in her beliefs of equality and who added new insight to those around her. A cheerful spot in the lives of the people at the nursing home where she worked and made their lives brighter. A roommate who was responsible. A supporter of the NAACP in a time when it wasn't so popular to be a white woman in the front lines. I hope I will be remembered as a young mother who provided comfort to her son in a home situation filled with domestic violence and abuse. A mother who finally found the wisdom and strength to leave. A young mother who gave everything for the betterment of her child. A young mother who recognized her limits and made decisions that were heart-breaking, perhaps being the best mother of all. I hope I will be remembered as a good wife. Someone who loved her husband the best she could. A wife who was supportive and fair. A wife who respected her husband. An ex-wife who is still a best friend. I hope I will be remembered as woman who survived breast cancer with grace. A woman whose compassion for those not as fortunate was obvious. A woman who was always trying to make things better. A woman who prided herself on being able to communicate effectively with people on important issues. A woman who was honest. A woman who was fun. A woman who made other people's lives a little easier. A woman who worked hard. A woman who was a good friend when it mattered. A woman who won millions in the lottery and shared it. I hope I will be remembered as a lovely, though a bit eccentric, old woman. A woman whose eyes sparkled when thinking about times gone by. A woman whose face had laugh lines and was a bit sun-worn from days at the beach. A woman who still loved watching birds, butterflies, and got a kick out of nature. A woman who, even though her hands were a bit stiff, still loved crafting. A woman who died with grace and a smile on her face. I hope I will be remembered as someone who made people's lives a little more meaningful for her having been there. A person who cared, was honest, was fun, was giving, was compassionate and passionate. A good mother, a good grandmother, a good daughter, a good sister, and a good friend. Today's challenge: Think about how what you do, or don't do, today will be remembered.

Taking Responsibility

Nobody takes responsibility for their actions anymore. Everyone seems to pass the blame on to someone else or something else. At some point in all our lives we develop the ability to make conscious decisions. I believe it happens early in life when we make our preferences known through temper tantrums or keeping our lips closed tight against some food we are unwilling to try. As we go through life, the decisions and choices we have to make inherently become more important. We choose who we want to associate with, what clothes we want to wear, where we want to go and with who. At some point, the decisions we make begin to have more lasting consequences. If we're lucky, our parents have led us by example. We have been taught how to think decisions through and have learned to appreciate the impact our choices may have on others. We, for the most part, develop compassion for others, for their possessions and their feelings. We learn how to apologize. However, things seem to be different these days. Kids curse at their parents, throw fits in grocery stores, mistreat their pets and other animals, disrespect authority, and feel extremely entitled. When I was a teenager, I would never have thought that not going to school was an option...only the really bad kids dropped out. We respected the police and showed it. We got grounded. If we did something wrong, or something that hurt another person, we were made to apologize and make amends. That doesn't happen anymore. A while back, there were teenagers out in front of our house late at night. My son woke up and heard them talking. Being protective of his new truck, he put on his shoes and headed for the door. Just as he reached the door, his truck alarm went off and he took off like a bullet chasing the kids across the greenbelt, thinking they had vandalized his truck. In the meantime, I called the police. Pretty soon through the dark, I see my son come back with one of the kids in-tow. We asked the kid what they had done and he said they threw a water balloon at the truck...just because. The police drove up and we explained what had gone on. The kid was from the neighborhood. The policeman asked if my son wanted to press charges to which my son said, "No, but if anything ever happens again I will." The policeman gave the kid a long speech about how lucky he was that my son wasn't pressing charges, etc., and then drove the kid home to talk with his parents. I was just certain that the next day the kid would be back, with his parents, to apologize again. That never happened. Chris Brown blaming the domestic violence in his childhood for beating up his girlfriend. Lots of people experienced parents fighting and hurting each other and they didn't grow up to be abusive. He, and he alone, made the decision to hit his girlfriend and needs to take responsibility for it. Man up, as they say. Michael Vick blamed his growing up in a small town in a poor neighborhood for not knowing that fighting and abusing dogs was wrong. Give me a break! He is a grown man living in the United States, not under a rock somewhere. He, and he alone, decided he could make a lot of money by running his dog fighting ring and killing the dogs that were no longer useful to him. He should have to spend the rest of his life working for free in animal shelters....under close supervision. Some of the most notorious child abusers and molesters blame the fact that they themselves were abused or molested as children and therefore couldn't help themselves. Again, they made the choice to continue the cycle. Personally, I think we should take all these people and drop them off on an island in the middle of a piranha-filled ocean to fend for themselves. Parents of children who drown in family swimming pools always blame someone or something else, whether they thought someone else was watching them, the phone rang, someone else left the gate open, something is wrong with the lock on the door, etc. In this case, I believe the thought of them being responsible for their child's death is probably just too much to bear, so the excuses may buffer the pain a little. Take responsibility for your carelessness and get involved in public awareness. Whew! I'm pushing so many of my hot buttons this morning, I'm exhausted. I better go take responsibility for the messiness of my house Today's challenge: Take responsibility for every action and every choice you make today.

First Post

So, this is my first post. Basically, I'm writing for myself because I haven't told anyone about this blog yet. What to write? Hmmm. Today is my brother's birthday. I've missed him. We live far away from each other and finances and time continue to make it difficult to get together. I love him. Family. That single word can invoke so many emotions depending on your own. I have been so blessed to be a part of a caring, compassionate, and loving family. Although we are spread out through the states, we continue to be "there" for each other consistently. My heart breaks a little when I think of all the discord that continues to destroy other families. The child abuse, the domestic violence, the absence of parents in their children's lives. Divorce happens. But, that doesn't change the fact that the people are still parents. There is never, never an excuse for parents not to be there for their children. I wonder if it would be better if there was some piece of paper that "divorced" the children from the problems of their parents. Hmmm, that might be a good idea. So, rereading this post I realize my thoughts are scattered and I wonder if this is the way this blog will go, just sort of random thoughts on a page. Could be more therapeutic than informative. Ha! I'm sure we have all known someone, or perhaps yourself, who have had a family member pass away either expectantly or not, that you wish you would have told them something before they died, some unfinished business so to speak. Maybe an apology, maybe an explanation, maybe a confession, or maybe just a simple "I love you". I think sometime in our lives we are all struck with a "life-changing" event, something that happens that makes us promise to live better more thoughtful lives. Unfortunately for most of us, that promise seems to slowly fade away until we go back to our old ways. Remember September 11th? Where has all that patriotism gone? The flags? The doing things for others just because? Sad. We need to get back on track. Whew! Lots of emotion today. I better go get busy getting busy. Today's challenge: Do something for someone else today just because.