Low Hanging branches....

Everyone is familiar with the story of Prince Charming, dashing to the rescue of his Princess Bride, handsome, debonair, perfect. Prepared for anything. Nothing will stand in his way as he gallops to his lady love, solving all problems before they waylay him, slaying every dragon, and ultimately saving her day [and often her backside] in the end.

Real life looks a little different, at least from where I stand. My life is filled with low hanging branches, and I'll be darned if I don't ram into every one of them along the path. I don't know if I need new glasses, [maybe I should check into Lasik a little more seriously,] or if I just need to look ahead more often, but I have been knocked off more charging steeds than a jouster at a Renaissance Festival, and I have the broken bones and bruises to show for it, too.

I have been told by a well intentioned person, ignorant of my reality, that we bring our own outcomes upon ourselves. If I want a more positive outcome, I have to think positively, instead of always expecting the worst.

If only I had known. All this time I thought it was just real life hitting me upside the head. Evidently, I should have positively thought my way to life success a long time ago and just avoided that whole divorce nonsense, not to mention unemployment and poverty. Thanks for the helpful tip. I'll get right on that.

Of course, she has been married for over 30 years to the same adoring guy who actually thinks she walks on water, her children have turned out perfectly, they have plenty of money and have, by and large, had life go pretty easily for them. I would like to invite her to walk a week in my skin and see how the other 95% of the world lives.

Lest you think I'm throwing myself a pity party, I don't consider myself to be unique. It seems to me that most people have low hanging branches threatening their progress as they travel the road of life, no matter how pretty things look from the outside. Almost everyone gets hit in the head periodically by an unexpected limb hanging in the path that they just didn't recognize until it was too late. I think, in fact, that getting knocked off your horse is something that most people have in common, which is why we all giggle when something goes wrong for someone else [we're just so glad it's not us, for a change,] and immediately want to help them get back on the horse [we would want a hand, too.]

The same well meaning person told me that my string of life failures is God's way of telling me that I am not sufficiently humble - I have a lesson to learn, and until I learn it, I will continue to be humbled. Let me just say right now, I will grovel lower than pond scum just to successfully duck under one branch and ride on unscathed. If humility is what God wants from me, I'm all over it.

In fact, I got off to an early start on that particular lesson when at my birth, my own mother took one look and said, "Ah, I don't think so." I guess I wasn't sufficiently upbeat upon making my entrance for the first mom to hang around, if my acquaintance is correct in her advice on living more successfully. I wonder if I could take a mulligan?

[I am kidding about that, obviously. Fortunately for me, I ran into a family with slightly lower standards, and they took me in just as I was. Which gives this story its happily ever after ending. Sort of. Well, it's happy for me, anyway. I'm not so sure about my mom, who may have second guessed her decision a time or two, but is WAY too nice to say so. Ignorance is bliss and all that.]

My brother once made a simple, yet very profound observation as we were walking through my beautifully manicured former neighborhood of cookie cutter homes, where every third house looked exactly the same down to the basketball hoop in the driveway and the van in the garage, and there was little to distinguish one house from the next. He remarked, as he looked at the lovely expanse of little homes in front of us, that while everything looked beautiful from the outside, there was real pain hiding behind each and every door.

That insight is something I've remembered all these years, because he hit on a home truth that means a lot to me. Everyone has their problems, and just because things look beautiful from the outside, that doesn't mean there is isn't a struggle going on inside. Someone may live in a beautiful house and drive a new car, but still have an empty life. You can have all the earthly rewards the world has to offer, but if you have sold your soul to Satan to get it, then you are still lost.

I continue to look backwards too often on the path that I've left littered behind me, dwelling on the sticks and the branches that are clinging to my hair and the concussion that is lingering, instead of picking myself up and putting myself back on the horse. I am even more reluctant if it requires a hand from a friend to get there, because in true Minnesota Lutheran fashion, I don't want to put anyone to any trouble. I frequently forget that the most important part of any journey lies ahead, and if I want to miss the low hanging branches that surely await, I have to pay more attention to where I want to go instead of where I've been. If I spend too much time looking at the path someone else has taken, I will miss the twists and turns in my own route, and before I know it, I will be on the ground, wondering what happened.

There is a saying, life is a journey, not a destination. That is a matter of fact, because when you have reached your destination, life is at it's end. Between here and there, we all have a lot of living to do, and unfortunately, that includes a large number of low hanging branches for everyone.

You can't always anticipate the obstacle that will be thrown in your path, because life takes sudden U-turns and sharp curves that we can't see until we're in them. But you can look around you at the others who are nearby, and realize you all have branches in your hair, and we are really all in this life together.

We cannot control what life throws our way. A lot of bad stuff happens to good people, and that's just how life is. People get divorced, lose their job, have children that screw up, make bad financial decisions, have friends that stab them in the back, get cancer, have accidents, and the list goes on and on. Everyone has something that has gone wrong in their life. We can't control what life throws at us. But we can control how we respond to those incidents, and how we move forward from there.

So give a hand to a friend who needs uplifting. Jump on your horse so that your friends will feel good about jumping back onto theirs when they fall. If you encounter a low hanging branch, know that it won't be the last, but you can still learn something from it for the journey forward.

Personally, I've decided to get new glasses, and I am going to put on my helmet, too. I will still get knocked off, but hopefully I'll see it coming, and I'll be prepared for the fall.

Wishing you helmets and good vision for your journey this week. And when you're on the ground, give a shout. Someone will be right there to help pull you back up on the horse. Guaranteed.

The family that laughs together....

I know people who associate their family gatherings with the sound of arguing. There are some people who associate their family gatherings with frigid silence. Some families embed their angst into succeeding generations until no one even knows any more why they are mad at each other, but they stay mad, anyway.

I associate my family with the sound of laughter. I grew up being loved and nurtured by people who appreciated the humor in everyday life, and were not afraid to laugh over good fortune or misfortune and everything in between.

The ones who led the way along the journey are leaving us too quickly, and too soon. But I know that God is having a lot more fun in heaven today than he was before, because my Uncle Bud Bishop is there now. I hope he has found my dad and my Uncle Harris, and they are all laughing together about something silly like a last piece of pie.

Bud, you are missed more than you know, but you are in my heart forever. Believe it or not, that is enough.

Birthday boy no more....

Twenty-five years ago today, I first held my child in my hands. It is a magical moment, when you see that child you have been harboring under your heart for nine long months, and you are suddenly A Mom. The mixed emotions of wishing to keep them close to you, and yet dying to see them, hold them, and ultimately throw them to their own fates to see what they will be overwhelm you. You are humbled and grateful and weary at the impending responsibilities that have suddenly been thrust upon you.

And yet, you know that you will be the best parent who ever lived. You will never say or do the wrong thing. Your child will be perfection itself - behavior, attitude and actions all conforming with your ideals, because you will Do It Right, and thus, your child will do no wrong, and both of your lives will be perfect.

What a difference 25 years makes.

Yesterday, I held that same child in my arms, hugging him goodbye. Now 6'6" and living on his own in a city eight hours away, we said our farewells in a airline terminal, and I watched him walk away into his future.

After a few tumultuous days, he is beginning his new life as a graduate student in a state very different from the one he is used to. The people will be different, the city is new and offers a lot to explore, his studies will be harder and yet, hopefully, even more fulfilling, and his life is changing in every way.

Along the path to this day, I have made every single mistake that parents have made since Cain and Abel. I have criticized when I should have hugged, I have coddled when I should have used tough love. I have been too strict at some times, and too lax at others. I have said no when I should have said yes, and vice versa.

My child, while under my care, managed to take a lamp apart while it was still plugged in. He swallowed a penny and had to have it surgically removed. He stopped breathing on a nightly basis and had to be monitored for the first year of his life, leaving me forever traumatized upon hearing a certain type of alarm. He snores. He is moody and temperamental, and even those who love him best concede that he can be a little difficult at times.

He loves Beethoven and the Beatles, forgets everything immediately except useless trivia that no one needs to know, for which he is guaranteed to have instant recall forever. He has unruly curly hair that he can't control, and wears polo shirts all the time because that way he doesn't have to worry about whether or not he looks nice. He refused to wear new clothes when he was little, and he is gifted and ADHD.

He is, in short, a fairly normal human being, with his good qualities and his bad points, and when added up together equal a pretty great, but hardly perfect person.

I am so grateful to have a son in my life. He has brought kites and baseball and fights with his friends on the front yard into my life. He has given me moments of great pride and moments of total humiliation. He has been the highest of highs, and the lowest of lows, in the biggest swing of the pendulum life has to offer.

At 25, he is who he will be, the framework nearly completed. Although the finishing work will take the rest of his life, you can see the outline of the person he is, and I am gratified. When we started this process, I thought I would be responsible for the outcome. I have learned that he was born his own person. I just provided the guidance system to get there more efficiently.

He makes mistakes, sometimes huge ones, and still has a lot to learn about life. But he takes his life lessons and moves ahead, and rarely needs to review what he got wrong the first time, because he is all about education, both in class and outside of it.

I don't know what the next 25 years will bring, but I do know this much. The other night, I sat at a table and listened to my son talk about me, and what he perceives to be my good attributes. Hearing his heartfelt appreciation for something that he has always taken for granted was touching to me, because I know there are a lot of people who wouldn't say those same words about their own parents.

No matter how many mistakes I have made, no matter how many things I've gotten wrong in his life, my son forgives me for the wrongs, and only holds on to the rights. We are not perfect, either one of us, and we have made our mistakes on his life's journey. But the child who made me a mother makes me proud and excited to see the future, even as I look back on the past with fond memories of days gone by.

Adam, we grew up together, and I am grateful for your patience and courage in trusting a mom who didn't even know which way to put on a diaper at the start. I think we have done well, you and I. You are no longer a boy - you are a man, and one I am very, very proud of.

Happy birthday, Sonshine, and many, many more are wished for you to come. I hope this day holds only good things for you as you get settled into your new place, and your new life. You know how much you are loved, not only because I say so, but because I have shown you every single day of your life, and I look back with confidence that you will never lose sight of that. I wish you a wonderful year in your new life, and I look forward to the stories to come.

Doing the Time Warp....

Time is an interesting thing. As modern, progressive humans, we have harnessed time by defining it in such a way that we can all agree on the details. There are 60 seconds in a minute, no matter where in the world you find yourself. There are 60 minutes in an hour, and 24 hours in a day, all 365 days a year. We have even accounted for the fact that it's not exactly that way by adding a leap year day every few years to even things up and make it nice and tidy.

And yet, time is flexible. We have all experienced how the clock seems to speed up when we are having fun, but moves almost imperceptibly when we are experiencing a difficult time.

And in the toughest of times, it seems that time itself goes both too fast and too slow, and you don't have enough of it while it drags by.

We are experiencing that last time warp around here this week, as my two children prepare themselves to go in opposite directions on the map and into the same new experience - a new school, a fresh start, and all the excitement that comes with it, while leaving behind everything that is comfortable and familiar and safe.

My son will begin his work towards his Ph.D., a path which he was destined to travel his entire life, although he didn't realize it himself until a couple years ago. He is, understandably, a little nervous about the change from the comfortable life of an undergrad in a school where he is well known and respected to a school where he is starting from the beginning. In his new program, he will have to prove himself once again, demonstrating that he is worthy of the awards and honors that they have already given him.

My daughter is embarking on the first big step away from home and into the fun and chaos of college life. She will be far enough away that she will be independent, on her own, and there will be no impromptu visits going in either direction. She will learn to live with roommates, navigate her own classes, learn to budget time and money, and experience all the fun that is a part of being a college student.

It truly seems like a heartbeat ago that I carried them next to my heart, and now I see them, each adults in progress, making their own way in the world without me to guide their path. It is exciting to see the transformation, and I look forward to watching from afar as they have new experiences that no longer include me, and learn things that I never knew.

Once you are a mother, you are a mother for life. I will never stop giving my best advice, challenging them to be the best they can be, prodding them to set high standards and reach for their own stars. I will always be there when they make their own mistakes, fall short of their personal best, trip over the hurdles, and run out of fuel halfway through space.

The old saying goes, life is a journey, not a destination. As each child journeys forth in the coming days into their own new worlds, I hope they know that they are never more than a heartbeat away from the safety of their mother's love and support.

We are a terrific team, we three. No matter where we are, no matter how far we go, the family circle is still surrounding us with love and caring and support.

I loved you enough to bring each of you to this day, and now I love you enough to release your future into your own hands. Go forth boldly and embrace the possibilities. You will never know what is out there unless you reach out and grab the opportunities that present themselves with your whole beings. Time has moved at warp speed, and you are on the threshold of your own experiences.

Live boldly, love fully, laugh loudly, learn enthusiastically, listen completely, and lean wisely. Guard your values and your reputation, and you will have no regrets. Your own life is knocking at the door. Open it and walk confidently into your exciting futures.

Just don't forget to wave once in a awhile!

I'm an Only Person....

I realized yesterday that I am now less than a month away from that moment in my life when I will become an Only Person.

I find that idea both exhilarating and nerve inducing, terrifying while also being thrilling. No matter what my future holds, my life will be different than it has ever been before. No longer will I have to consider anyone else in my daily activities. I will not be tied to anyone else's needs. I will be on my own, a free woman, a true single.

I will be free to make my own commitments, unhindered by unexpected demands made by someone else who comes first. As an Only Person, I get to be first, last, and only, at least to some extent. Not gonna lie; I am empowered by the thought.

My entire life, I have been an adjunct to someone else. I have been someone's daughter, someone's sister, someone's wife, someone's mother. Rarely have I been seen as my own person, even in the work world, as I surrounded myself with photos of the family that was out of sight, but never out of mind. My schedule, even as a working woman, has always revolved around the children whose lives were at the center of my daily life, and whose needs, and usually wants, have always been put first.

I am a fortunate woman, indeed, to have such a wonderful family. I am blessed with a mother who still drops everything to talk to me when I need her. She is there for me in a million big and little ways, each and every day of my life. But my existence is no longer defined by her time and attention. I am no longer identified by my relationship with her, as I was when I was young. Although she knows many of my friends, at least by name, she is known through me, rather than the other way around.

Since the day I found out my son was on the way, I have been a mom. I self-identified that way, and others identified me that way. My life has been directed by my children's activities and lives, and for the last 25 years, that has been who I am.

I have noticed when men meet, the first topic of discussion is always their career, no matter what the setting. They identify themselves by their work, first and foremost, and everything else is secondary.

When women meet, the first thing they discuss is marital status and motherhood, even when they are working women with high powered careers. We all identify ourselves, it seems, by our families, even when we are highly placed or powerful.

Hilary Clinton, the U.S. Secretary of State, recently revealed that her highest priority at this moment is her daughter's wedding, a statement that resonated for every woman who has either had a wedding or been the mother of the bride. It is the biggest moment in her daughter's life, and even someone as important as she knows what is most important in the big scheme of things. I doubt that she is neglecting her duties at the office; she is, if she is like every other woman, more likely neglecting herself in order to be all things to everyone who needs her.

In one month, however, my life changes radically, as the two people whose lives have been the driver for mine will both be on their own. For the first time in my life, I will answer only to me, at least on a day to day level. I don't have any illusions that I am not still going to be the mom, and that I won't still answer to my offspring! But how I spend each day will be totally up to me, for the first time in my whole life.

I have had a bucket list of things I've wanted to do since my kids were little, and there has never been time for any of it before. Perhaps now, at long last, I will finally find the time. Maybe I will go through 20 year old boxes and discard the former memories that I have now forgotten. Maybe I will look at cards given to me by people whose names have slipped my mind, and whose faces appear only in old photographs. Maybe I will finally start the process of reducing my possessions, once so important to me, and streamlining my life to suit a still relatively young and very single woman.

Or maybe, instead, I will simply lie on the sofa and read for entire weekends, living off popcorn and raspberry lemonade. I will be able to sleep late if I want to, go to church on Saturday night on a whim because I'm driving by anyway, or sit on the deck under the umbrella for hours while playing spider solitaire.

The possibilities are wide open, and I hardly know where to start. Many people fear this time of life, the empty nest, because it means they have to start anew on a life that has become familiar and comfortable, even if it's not quite what they had dreamed of back when it started.

Having started over several times in the last few years, I am no longer afraid of the new start. Having failed almost as many times in the same time span, I am not afraid of failure, either. I see it as the ultimate learning opportunity - a time to recognize what doesn't work for me - which is just as important as finding out what does.

I don't really know what the next few months will mean for me, and for my life, but I do know one thing for certain - I am excited to see where the journey leads me next. As the old saying goes, life is a journey, not a destination. Here's hoping the ETA is still a long ways away for me, because I've got too much ahead to arrive too soon.