Get to know a veteran day....

Over the last few weeks, I have been thinking a lot about what Veteran's Day means.  It was partly fueled by the upcoming holiday, of course.  Add in a celebration at our church in conjunction with the national day of recognition, and it would have been tough to ignore, even if I wanted to (which I didn't.)

For one very special saint....

Sometimes people die too soon.  It is a mystery why it happens - not the actual cause of death, but why it happens to them.  They leave a hole in the universe, and especially in our lives, that seems never to be filled.  Their loss, their absence, cannot be made right.  They are, in a word, irreplaceable.  You learn to live a different way, because you are missing something once vital to your existence.

The morning after the night before...

There is an awkward moment between waking and sleeping that comes to everyone eventually.  Anyone over the age of 23 knows the scenario - where it's too early to get up, but too late to fall asleep again.  Where you fight the reality that another day is about to begin, comforted in the thought that you can stave it off for a few more precious moments while you lay in the delicious quiet of a cozy bed.

Every breath you take...

Most people take their good health for granted.  In any ordinary day, you wake up, you go to work, have your coffee or tea or soda to kick off your day, eat whatever you want, whenever you want, and engage in whatever activities you feel like; one way or another you get through your day without giving a second thought to the challenges you have given your body, or what it has to go through before you give it a chance to rest again that night.  It is natural that you would take it for granted - after all, for most people, most of the time, this is how it works.

But there are plenty of people for whom this is not the norm.  Of course, there are the extraordinary examples - those with terminal illnesses or severe chronic disabilities, those obvious people whose life is controlled by a medical diagnosis which drives their entire existence.  But there is a whole other world of people out there, as well, people who have, for reasons they may or may not want to talk about, a daily struggle with their body.

Small town life...

Very few people in this country live in small towns.  For the most part, Americans are city dwellers, and they tolerate the aggravations in order to embrace the opportunities offered.  According to the US Census, about 80% of us live in a metropolitan area, leaving vast open spaces for the other 20% who embrace a different lifestyle altogether.

A Grateful Wife

I rarely speak publicly about the man I am married to.  He is a very private person, and he doesn't like me talking about him in public, especially on social media, which is his right, and I respect that.  But today I feel like telling the world about the shy, quiet guy who brought joy into my world, because he deserves some credit for how he changed my life.

An Ordinary Man...

Today the world lost an ordinary man.  He was not, at least on paper, a VIP or someone that would be noticed in the street.  He didn't have wealth or fame or power, nothing that the world would look at and say, "He was Something."    There was no retinue to follow him and cater to his every whim.  Nor would he have wanted that.  On the contrary, he joyfully and graciously served others, right up until the last few days of his life.

Ten things I have learned....

In 54 years of living life, I have learned a lot.  Most of it is useless trivia, but some of it is valuable life wisdom.  I share it here to get you started thinking on your own list.  (I think everyone should have a list by my age.  Wisdom is one of the compensations for growing older.)

1. Degrees of responsibility will not matter when you are dead.  Sometimes it's better to just take the burden so you can all move forward.
2. Whether or not you were a person to choose the high road is something that people will remember about you when you aren't here to defend yourself.

I'd rather be Sleepy than Snow White....

I did something some years back that I haven't done since kindergarten. I fell asleep at my desk. During my work day. Without meaning to. [Blush.]

Most people would be afraid to admit something like that publicly, where millions [okay, tens] of readers could taunt them for their slacker behavior forever more. I, however, am a proud blogger, where nothing is sacred. If I can't make fun of myself, well, I would have to make fun of the rest of the world, but then I would be looking a lawsuit straight in the wazoo, and I am no longer fond of lawyers of any ilk.

Ilk. Don't you love that word? Sounds so smooth. So sophisticated. Cary Grant positively oozed ilk.  I do not have ilk.  I'm more like Jeff Foxworthy in panties, but that's getting sort of personal, so we won't go down that path any further.

Be careful little eyes what you see.....

I read something online recently about a person well known in their own community, whom I happen know personally.  (To give full disclosure, this person is not a relative or close friend, is not famous in the usual sense of the word, and is not someone with whom I am in regular contact at the present time.)

The person I have known is deeply flawed, and has made, and from what I have heard, continues to make, poor personal decisions which impact upon other people in harmful ways.  But what I read online did not reveal any of that.  Instead, I read a glowing self-description, with distorted facts, misinformation, and some outright redistribution of the truth.

Endless love....

There was a song that was quite popular when I was younger entitled "Endless Love."  Diana Ross and Lionel Richie sang this theme song from the popular movie by the same name. I think that is a good way to describe the love a mother feels for her child, something I have thought about a lot, recently.

It has been an interesting interlude in my life, the last few months, as I watched my daughter go through pregnancy, bonding with this brand new human being before he is even born.  While we are all waiting with excited anticipation to add this child to our lives, no one is more excited than the woman who has carried him under her heart for the last 8.5 months, feeling his movements and getting to know him in a way no one else ever can or will.

Hourglass of time....

Over the last couple of weeks, a number of people I know have had serious health issues.  Some of them have built up to the crisis, while others have suddenly found themselves in health related trouble.  It is always a surprise when our bodies turn on us and we have to face the fact that they aren't 100% reliable.  But, in fact, life is a crap shoot, and you never know when your time will be up.  It is sobering to realize how many people will not see tomorrow, and that how they live today is the way they will be remembered by the people who knew them best.

Happiness is a choice....

It has been a long couple of weeks in Walton World, and I am ready for a revived spirit.  One too many times, the dreaded words, "It could have been worse," have been uttered, and I am starting to feel unreasonable in my response.  But ultimately, I know my reaction to what is going on in my life is up to me, and I have to be the one to set the tone for how I feel about my own experiences.  Easier said than done.  But eminently possible.  Even, on a good day, fairly manageable.

So today, a lovely, sunny Saturday filled with promise, I mostly chose to make it a good day.  I chose joy.  I chose to smile, whether I felt like it or not.  I laughed at my dogs and their silly antics.  I felt cheerful when looking at the flowers my husband chose to give me earlier this week.  I took a nap because I felt like indulging my baser instincts.  And I am not going to feel guilty about it, because I needed that time for me.

Survival...

Today is the 70th anniversary of the liberation of the Auschwitz concentration camp in Oswiecim, Poland.  It is a milestone this world would be better off never having to mark.  But because human beings can be inhuman, it is a day of remembrance of the six million souls who died too soon at the hands of those who would play God, as well as the recognition of the few who survived to tell the world the truth of what happened.  It is a serious day, a heartbreaking day, even all these years later, when you think of the lost lives, the lost art, the lost theories and designs and everything else that might have come if the Holocaust had never happened.

Father's Day...

Over the last 42 years, I have read a lot about fathers.  Some are present. Some are absent.  Some are active, some are barely available.  But whatever kind of father they are, they have an effect on your life that you will carry with you until you breathe your last breath.

My father was one of the guiding lights of my life.  When I was little, I thought he could do no wrong.  I really believed he could do anything, take care of everything, solve any problem, fix any worry.  In short, my dad was a demi-god that I looked up to.  And I had good reason.  Because he did do all of those things.  It is not a bad thing to believe in your father, and I certainly believed in mine.

Just the facts...

I read a Facebook page post this evening that has given me cause to think.

But first, a small disclaimer.  I am not a follower of that particular page, nor the person who writes it, but I am friends with a number of people who do follow him, and who think quite a lot of him.

So tonight, when his post popped up on my wall, I glanced at it with curiosity.  It pulled me right in, because at the top of the page, it acknowledged a two week unpaid suspension from the job of Chief of Police in a town called Brimfield, Ohio. I thought that was pretty big news, considering Brimfield is a smallish town of about 8000 people near Akron, but its wildly popular Chief has a Facebook following of over 175,000 supporters from across the globe.

Peace on Earth....

It is easy to get wrapped up in the tragic and devastating events of the day.  The news is filled with the terror and horror of everyday life, often in some other part of the world, but occasionally even right in our own back yard.  Crazy people are flourishing, and insanity seems to feed on itself.  The more we allow the inmates to run the asylum, the worse things get.

Happiness versus creativity,,,, Win/win!

I have often read that creative artists, whether actors, comedians, sculptors, artists, musicians, or writers, are most productive when they are miserable.  Apparently, sadness or depression fuels the creative mind, goes the thought.