Just the other day Becca let us know that the time for her first grandchild to make it's grand entrance was no longer some mythical day way off somewhere in the future. It was now. Today. She has so looked forward to this moment, and as with so many wonderful things in life happening to those we love, we were along for the ride.
Another miracle. So many times I have seen adults with children grown and on their own reduced to walking tapioca by the birth of a grandchild. The love is evident in each picture. To once again have what you thought was your reality rearranged by the smallest of packages is something miraculous. The "glow" on each adult face is obvious. The changes for the parents is easy to understand, but for the extended family the shift in perspective is a little surprising. Grandparents remember anew what it was like when their own children were born. Somehow the ensuing period as children make their way into adulthood tends to take the lustre off the memory of when they first arrived....... all the way till a grand child is placed into your arms. The same connection as when you first laid eyes on your own is suddenly no longer a memory. It is again immediate, and just like before, totally overwhelming.
Little Olivia, welcome. It will be most of a lifetime before you could ever hope to fully realize the wonder of your arrival on the hearts of so many. Some day in the future you will laugh and cry as a little one you collaborated with God to create comes into this world. For the first time you will fully understand and fully comprehend just what your own arrival did for your parents. If you are blessed you will maybe see the day your grandchildren are born. Maybe then you will know what your birth did to your Granny Becca, and will realize just how much she loved you. Maybe the reason we use analogies for God as a parent is because the closest we come to experiencing that total uncompromising and absolute love we attribute to God is when we are confronted with a newborn.
Thanks be that the cycle never ends.
Friday, August 27, 2010
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Drive safe
The spoken word. George Carlin loved to point out the shortcomings in our most fundamental method of communication. Besides finding Carlin hilarious, I have wondered at the frailties and dangers involved in speaking. So often I know what I meant, but am quite aware that those to whom I am speaking missed the point. An example: A woman says "Do these pants make my butt look big?" Is she truly asking for a fashion opinion? Is she fishing for a compliment (maybe she has lost weight and wants someone to notice)? Or, as most men read the question, is she saying "We haven't had a fight in awhile.....". Maybe even all three.
So, what we say is full of nuances. It is subject to interpretation. This became obvious to me recently. At the end of another blessed reunion, the beginning of the goodbyes were commenced with the usual reluctance and anxiety for those looking at two days in the car with kids at that age that excess calories drive the beloved offspring into fits of irational behavior calling for immediate diagnosis of ADHD, ADD, and three or four other hyper active disorders. This usually requires the immediate administration of drugs (for the parents). Kids in the car, even with video machines, toys, frequent stops, snacks prepared, and a grandparent or two along for morale support are a form of torture even the Pol Pot regime would consider cruel and inhumane.
So, everyone is saying goodbye. As we are huggers, there are embraces all around. We have spent a weekend loving and sharing as best as we can. There has been alot of eating, alot of visiting, some tears, some laughs, and alot of loving. The time has come to part. The individual cars are packed, again, some more hugs, and waves. The last words are almost always along the line of "Drive safe." I watched it again and again....... "Drive safe."
So, on the oft chance one of you read this, let me translate "Drive safe." It means:
"You are leaving, and while I am most thankful for the time together, right now I am feeling particularly low. I have just realized how important you are to my life, and your leaving is leaving a crater bigger than Montana in my heart. This may be the last time I ever see your face, and while I thank God for the experience, it hurts to say bye. I thank you for being here. You are taking with you a large portion of who I am, or hope to be. I already said I love you....... but damnit, at the risk of being redundant, I still do. I pray God be with you and hold you till we meet again. I am going to miss you........ did I tell you I love you?"
ya'll drive safe.
So, what we say is full of nuances. It is subject to interpretation. This became obvious to me recently. At the end of another blessed reunion, the beginning of the goodbyes were commenced with the usual reluctance and anxiety for those looking at two days in the car with kids at that age that excess calories drive the beloved offspring into fits of irational behavior calling for immediate diagnosis of ADHD, ADD, and three or four other hyper active disorders. This usually requires the immediate administration of drugs (for the parents). Kids in the car, even with video machines, toys, frequent stops, snacks prepared, and a grandparent or two along for morale support are a form of torture even the Pol Pot regime would consider cruel and inhumane.
So, everyone is saying goodbye. As we are huggers, there are embraces all around. We have spent a weekend loving and sharing as best as we can. There has been alot of eating, alot of visiting, some tears, some laughs, and alot of loving. The time has come to part. The individual cars are packed, again, some more hugs, and waves. The last words are almost always along the line of "Drive safe." I watched it again and again....... "Drive safe."
So, on the oft chance one of you read this, let me translate "Drive safe." It means:
"You are leaving, and while I am most thankful for the time together, right now I am feeling particularly low. I have just realized how important you are to my life, and your leaving is leaving a crater bigger than Montana in my heart. This may be the last time I ever see your face, and while I thank God for the experience, it hurts to say bye. I thank you for being here. You are taking with you a large portion of who I am, or hope to be. I already said I love you....... but damnit, at the risk of being redundant, I still do. I pray God be with you and hold you till we meet again. I am going to miss you........ did I tell you I love you?"
ya'll drive safe.
Do overs.........
There are few things for which I wish for the old child hood "do-over". Certainly a child like concept. Whenever the veracity of an outcome was in question (or not to everyone satisfaction), someone would shout "Do-over", and everyone would pretend like the moment in question had never happened. So, the topic du jour is those few moments whereby I wish I could call a "Do-over". Why? Cause these are the only moments in my life that I wish I could change.
What we are talking about is regret. Since changing most anything in your life might keep you from being where you are..... I pretty much avoid saying what I would do differently if I were suddenly granted some secret wish to do my life over. But there are three occasions that I wish I had an opportunity to change......
I was a little surprised to notice that the moments I wish I could change are not moments that I did something needing to be corrected.......... but rather moments that I did nothing. Not acts of commission, but of omission. A lesson there? Probably. I think the things we most regret are the things we let pass by.
So, three times I let a moment get by me. Twice it was ignorance, and once, my earliest test of character, I failed to act out of cowardice.
To wash the slate, to offer whatever lessons are to be learned, and to explain to myself and those I love some of what has motivated me in my life I offer the following three instances of my having failed to live to my highest expectations.
First, I missed a family gathering. My Uncle had just passed away, it was my aunt closest to me in age (more like my big sister...... she had to put up with me through much of her early girl scouting experiences). I was newly wed, a new adoptive father, and it was not convenient. What a wonderfully selfish observation. Oh, everyone made it easy for me....... but I missed an important moment in our family. I should have been there. I have not missed many moments since then.......... but I truly regret missing that one.
Second event, my friend and his wife asked me to be Godfather to their son. My best friend and his wife thought so much of me that they offered this honor....... and it was about the same time as my Uncles death and the same mental disorder seems to have continued its assault on my better judgement as I again offered the simple observation that I could not afford the trip at the time. It is true I had no leave, it is also true I did not have the money, but I should have been there. I let down a friend (no small thing in and of itself), but I also managed to pass on an experience that would have been potentially one of the high lights of my life. I grew up in a testosterone dominated home. I assumed I would continue to experience the same forever. But my life is dominated by estrogen. Besides my wife, my daughter, my grand daughters, my daughter-in-law......... even my wife's four cats are female. I am close to my Father, and my Brother, but my day to day existence is all female, and they occasionally hop on the estrogen express and ride my butt out of town. I have an adopted son, but he suffers from the terrible disease of narcissism, and there is no room for anyone else in his world. I have a grandson less than a year old.......... maybe I will have a male relationship with him. Still, my good friend offered me a chance to be a part of his sons life.................................. and in ignorance I passed. Today, I can only imagine at what I missed.
And lastly, the greatest moment of self disappointment in my life. My first personal experience of the truth found in "A brave man dies but once, a coward a thousand times." This truth has been attributed to Shakespeare, and to the wisdom of the American Indian. Regardless of where it comes from, it is true. I offer the following in recognition that I needed to learn the lesson personally.
In middle school (7th grade) I rode a bus to school. My Father was the principal at my middle school. This is important as it implied that I did in fact have some major allies if I had wanted to risk calling in the "big guns". It was on a bus ride to school that my first moment of adulthood and it's moral challenges arose. There was a young man who lived across the street from me. He was not particularly smart, he was not particularly athletic, and he was not socially gifted. Right, in the moronic insight of so many at that age, he had no right to live. I was not the largest on the bus (it is amazing how significant a year can be in a young mans physical development). The 8th graders tended to be physically intimidating to those of us a year behind. In the end it matters not how big I was. The bigger kids began to spit on the poor boy from across the street. I should have screamed at the bus driver, or stood up and informed them that immediately upon arrival at school I would be most proud to report each and every one of them to the principal. I should have steped back and busted one of the ones my size in the mouth, or even committed suicide and busted the biggest one. An ass whipping would have healed long ago...... the hurt is still there. As God is my witness I would love to tell you I did any one of those things, but I didn't. I sat there and watched as an innocent suffered insult not much different than what the Nazi inflicted. The spittle ran from the back of his head, and the bullies continued. I can not imagine the damage to that young mans soul.......... but I am well aware of what it did to mine.
Never again in my life have I ever stood by and let someone blatantly inflict insult on another. Not at the risk of my life would I ever suffer it again. It was as a boy that I sat there quietly and did nothing. No, it was not just the boy with spittle all over his back and shoulders the bullies destroyed that day. They took the innocence of another young man. I hate them for it.
What we are talking about is regret. Since changing most anything in your life might keep you from being where you are..... I pretty much avoid saying what I would do differently if I were suddenly granted some secret wish to do my life over. But there are three occasions that I wish I had an opportunity to change......
I was a little surprised to notice that the moments I wish I could change are not moments that I did something needing to be corrected.......... but rather moments that I did nothing. Not acts of commission, but of omission. A lesson there? Probably. I think the things we most regret are the things we let pass by.
So, three times I let a moment get by me. Twice it was ignorance, and once, my earliest test of character, I failed to act out of cowardice.
To wash the slate, to offer whatever lessons are to be learned, and to explain to myself and those I love some of what has motivated me in my life I offer the following three instances of my having failed to live to my highest expectations.
First, I missed a family gathering. My Uncle had just passed away, it was my aunt closest to me in age (more like my big sister...... she had to put up with me through much of her early girl scouting experiences). I was newly wed, a new adoptive father, and it was not convenient. What a wonderfully selfish observation. Oh, everyone made it easy for me....... but I missed an important moment in our family. I should have been there. I have not missed many moments since then.......... but I truly regret missing that one.
Second event, my friend and his wife asked me to be Godfather to their son. My best friend and his wife thought so much of me that they offered this honor....... and it was about the same time as my Uncles death and the same mental disorder seems to have continued its assault on my better judgement as I again offered the simple observation that I could not afford the trip at the time. It is true I had no leave, it is also true I did not have the money, but I should have been there. I let down a friend (no small thing in and of itself), but I also managed to pass on an experience that would have been potentially one of the high lights of my life. I grew up in a testosterone dominated home. I assumed I would continue to experience the same forever. But my life is dominated by estrogen. Besides my wife, my daughter, my grand daughters, my daughter-in-law......... even my wife's four cats are female. I am close to my Father, and my Brother, but my day to day existence is all female, and they occasionally hop on the estrogen express and ride my butt out of town. I have an adopted son, but he suffers from the terrible disease of narcissism, and there is no room for anyone else in his world. I have a grandson less than a year old.......... maybe I will have a male relationship with him. Still, my good friend offered me a chance to be a part of his sons life.................................. and in ignorance I passed. Today, I can only imagine at what I missed.
And lastly, the greatest moment of self disappointment in my life. My first personal experience of the truth found in "A brave man dies but once, a coward a thousand times." This truth has been attributed to Shakespeare, and to the wisdom of the American Indian. Regardless of where it comes from, it is true. I offer the following in recognition that I needed to learn the lesson personally.
In middle school (7th grade) I rode a bus to school. My Father was the principal at my middle school. This is important as it implied that I did in fact have some major allies if I had wanted to risk calling in the "big guns". It was on a bus ride to school that my first moment of adulthood and it's moral challenges arose. There was a young man who lived across the street from me. He was not particularly smart, he was not particularly athletic, and he was not socially gifted. Right, in the moronic insight of so many at that age, he had no right to live. I was not the largest on the bus (it is amazing how significant a year can be in a young mans physical development). The 8th graders tended to be physically intimidating to those of us a year behind. In the end it matters not how big I was. The bigger kids began to spit on the poor boy from across the street. I should have screamed at the bus driver, or stood up and informed them that immediately upon arrival at school I would be most proud to report each and every one of them to the principal. I should have steped back and busted one of the ones my size in the mouth, or even committed suicide and busted the biggest one. An ass whipping would have healed long ago...... the hurt is still there. As God is my witness I would love to tell you I did any one of those things, but I didn't. I sat there and watched as an innocent suffered insult not much different than what the Nazi inflicted. The spittle ran from the back of his head, and the bullies continued. I can not imagine the damage to that young mans soul.......... but I am well aware of what it did to mine.
Never again in my life have I ever stood by and let someone blatantly inflict insult on another. Not at the risk of my life would I ever suffer it again. It was as a boy that I sat there quietly and did nothing. No, it was not just the boy with spittle all over his back and shoulders the bullies destroyed that day. They took the innocence of another young man. I hate them for it.
Laugh and the whole world laughs.....
We've all heard it.... "Laugh and the whole world laughs with you, cry, and you cry alone". What a crock. I well recognize that for some this might well be true. There are some (a minority from personal experience) who are so narcissistic that they have never managed to have close friends (the old "To make a friend you must first be one" restricts the relationships for these individuals). I have known a few folks that have something "bent" in their makeup whereby they are just unable to put others first. For them, in their reality, everyone is probably just out for themselves. We do tend to see a reflection of ourselves in the faces of those we meet. So, if we were self centered bone heads too, that is what we would expect from everyone else. That would be our reality. In life, one does tend to find whatever one is looking for.
That is not my reality. In my world there are many who share in my experiences. They exalt in the triumphs, and are truly crushed at the things that cause me pain..... and it is mutual. How lonely to have no one to share whatever is in your heart. What a sad existence............
Thank God for friends.
That is not my reality. In my world there are many who share in my experiences. They exalt in the triumphs, and are truly crushed at the things that cause me pain..... and it is mutual. How lonely to have no one to share whatever is in your heart. What a sad existence............
Thank God for friends.
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