30 years

Thirty years ago I was 25 years old and I was getting married.

We got married at four in the afternoon and it started pouring rain just after we said, "I do" to each other.

The reception was in my parent's backyard.  300 people.  Thank goodness we had a tent.

It rained so hard.  It rained for an hour.  There was a river running through the middle of the tent.

Men rolled up their pant-legs and women took off their shoes.  My father said "F**k the rain."  I'd never heard him say that word before.

I was smiling.  I was happy.  I was turning a page in my life.  I was stepping into a new chapter and I was doing this with the man I loved.

My brother held a sheet of plastic over the bartender as he served drinks.

Everyone laughed and drank and danced.  No one went home.  Then the rain stopped and the sun shone and the water flowed away.

We all ate the food and took more pictures and drank more wine and danced more dances.

This was the first day of 30 years together.

A friend asked me if I remembered all the fights and tough times and hardships.  I guess, if I think very hard, I can remember, but it isn't what I find the easiest thing to remember.  The things that come to mind the quickest and strongest is the fun we've had.  The joy we've shared.  The successes we've had, individually and together.  These are the things I can remember.  I'm so glad.  I am blessed.

This morning it rained so hard my windshield wipers couldn't keep up with the rain.  My garage flooded.  And I remembered that 30 years ago it rained so hard on my wedding day.  And I was smiling.


Linking with Emily at Imperfect Prose answering the question, what does it mean to be blessed?

495.  Being married to my friend
496.  Smiling in the rain
497.  Celebrating our marriage
498.  Realizing the blessing of a long marriage

Where is the love?

Ok, I get it's all about love.  All you need is love.  Love can change the world.  The power of love.  Love don't  cost a thing.  Love grows (where my Rosemary goes).

Love.  So, to quote Telly Savalas, "Who loves ya, baby?"

Is it more loving to agree with somebody you believe is making a poor decision, a decision to do something that you know will not only be unsuccessful, but will cause incredible financial harm for their present lives and their future.  Something you wouldn't sit back and watch your own children do without warning them of .the dangers, not only for themselves, but for their family.  And you don't say anything because you know disagreeing with them will cause them to cry and break off all contact with you?  So now you have kept the relationship and you are watching this family self-destruct in front of your eyes and you smile and give them the "thumbs up" signal (Like) and say, "I'll pray for you."

Or

Is it more loving to disagree with somebody you believe is making a poor decision, not only for themselves, but for their family, and risk making them cry and break off all contact with you?  You tell them because, even though they aren't your blood relation, you are older and wiser and you know the risk and reward of the situation they want to place themselves into and you just want to warn them of these dangers.  And, you know they hate your guts, but you keep praying for them to come to their senses and act like adults, even though this isn't what they want to do.

Who is showing the love?

490.  Cooler, cloudy day with a chance of rain
491.  A bushel of tomatoes in my freezer and 25 lbs of beets in jars
492.  The good feeling of accomplishment
493.  Peaches fresh from the tree
494.  Knowing that you cannot screw up God's plan, no matter how hard you try

Who loves ya, baby?

Defending the faith

Chick-Fil-A, Love Wins, Hermoine in 50 Shades of Grey
Hey, how's a believer to answer back?
Wring our hands?
Spout vitriol on the blog?
Is it enough to believe LOVE will be enough?
Is it fire we need to fight this firestorm?
Or squarely shut the door on all debate and pray it goes away?

Joining G-man on Friday flash 55

485.  The deepest crimson crepe myrtle I have ever seen
486.  A blue bird sitting on the basketball backstop in my driveway
487.  Sunny yellow gold finches flying around my bird-feeder
488.  Bright white begonias blooming outside my window
489.  Purple salvia standing tall next to the begonias

Who is the failure?

Last night my son was eating his dinner at the kitchen table, I was sitting on the couch watching the RHOBH and sipping on a vodka and tonic, and my husband was sitting on the couch playing with his iPad.  Then my son says to me, "I think, you think I'm a failure."

I'm going to guess that many of my readers are thinking I must have been devastated by these words.  To be completely honest, I wasn't.  (just a minute, let me pull this knife out of my chest and get a tissue for all this blood.)  I will say, however, it stung a bit.

This summer has been a HUGE learning opportunity for me.  You know what God Oprah says, "The universe (aka God) is always trying to get your attention. Sometimes it starts out -- any major problem you encounter -- as a whisper. By the time it gets to be a storm, you've had a pebble knock you upside the head; you've had a brick; you've had a brick wall; you've had a house fall down. And before you know it, you are in the eye of the storm. But long before you are in the eye of the storm, you've had many warnings, like little clues."

The first thing about whatever it is that I'm supposed to be learning began with the trip to MN to visit my parents and ALL the family.  This was a big learning opportunity.  I learned that no matter what I do I will never please my father.  Seriously, even if I do exactly what he asked me to do and I do it completely successfully and I do it better than even I could imagine it being done, it isn't good enough.  Even if I (and my brothers) take the money my father insisted with use to form an investment group.  Invest the money and actively try to grow this investment.  Even if the purpose of giving us this money was to try to control his children and force them into having to interact with each other as adults, whether we wanted to do this or not and believe me it hasn't always been easy but in the end we have figured out how to get along and manage the money and our relationships and it only took 15 or so years.  And we Did It!  And, he's not happy about it.  No "good job" or "you did it" or "you are great kids" or even "you didn't screw this up."  Nothing.  Silence.  Well, not silence, because I've heard some snide comments, but you know what I mean.

My husband wonders why I always consider myself a failure or find the problems in anything I do or say, even if it seems like I was successful.  I can always find my mistakes or find things I think I could have done better.  I have to tell you, these overwhelming feelings of failure don't just come a couple times each week.  They come over me any time of the day.  I can be walking into the bathroom to get ready for work and I see knik-knaks sitting on the windowsill that I've thought to myself, "you know, you should sell that stuff on eBay" and then I'll see the things sitting there, not being sold on eBay and I'll think to myself (and sometimes even say out loud), "I'm a failure."  This happens so often during a day, even I can't believe it.  For some reason I have convinced myself that anything I think I should do is something I should do and if I haven't done it and if I haven't done it better than I think anyone could do it, I'm a failure.

I don't think my son is a failure.  I told him, "I don't think you are a failure."  He hasn't failed at anything, yet.  I told him he hadn't really done anything yet either, but he was still young and had time to succeed or fail at whatever he chooses to do.  Somehow I have been a great success at reflecting my father's opinion of me onto my son.  I continued trying to be encouraging to my son and tell him over and over that I don't think he is a failure.  While I'm trying to say encouraging things, my husband is translating what I'm saying to my son, so he can hear it in a positive tone.  (is the irony of my screen name and blog name showing?)  Who knows if my son can even hear anything encouraging or positive from me anymore.  Maybe after 25 years of listening to the sound of my voice, maybe "pass the salt" sounds like "you're a failure" to him when it comes out of my mouth.

I believe God is showing me the how and why of my personality and showing me clearly, that I need to work on positivity harder and stronger than I've been working on it.  I thought I was getting more positive.  And, maybe I have.  Maybe I wouldn't have noticed how negatively my father behaves if not for becoming a more positive person.  Maybe my son wouldn't have had the courage to say those words to me if not for noticing I've become a more positive person.  Maybe...  maybe...

I know I don't want to get to the point of being in the eye of the storm.  I don't even want my house to fall down on me (I've been close enough to that when the tree fell on my house).  Those words from my son's mouth last night were definitely a pebble hitting me in the head.  Yeah, it hurt a little.  It hurt enough to get my complete attention.  Being encouraging.  Being positive.  Being Happy.  These are the important things to be.

480.  My son and his honesty
481.  My son and his love for me
482.  My son and his trust in me
483.  My son and his faith in God
484.  My husband for translating my words and tone for my son to hear

Mark Stivers 2004

Making wishes in August

Can you believe it is August already?  The summer is flying by.  Before you know it the children (you remember I work at a college) will be back to school.  (with the extension of adolescence to 30-35 years of age, the undergrads that come here at the end of each August are acting more and more childish)  Again, I digress.

August is always a special month for me.  My mom and her mom's birthdays are on August 12th.  Happily, (or sadly, if you aren't a christian believer) Grandma is in heaven.  This year will mark my mom's 80th birthday.  Old.  I love her, but she is old.  There is just stuff about being old that is a little tough to take.  But, they say, it is better than the alternative.  (sometimes I'm not so sure about that)  And, again, I digress.

The point about August and it being my mom and grandma's birthday on the 12th is that every year, when I was young, we drove out to The Country to celebrate Grandma's birthday.  We lived in the suburbs of Chicago and The Country was a farm in Wichert, IL.  This was a tiny, tiny area outside of the tiny town of St. Anne, IL, which was a tiny town on the outskirts of Kankakee, IL.  Most people from Chicago did not know what or where Kankakee, IL was.  The cool thing about going to Grandma's house, besides seeing Grandma, was that on the way home from Grandma's house there would be TONS of shooting stars.

I could hardly see the stars at my house.  There was too much artificial lighting coming from the shopping center near my house and it made it hard to see a lot of the stars.  But when we drove home, at night, from Grandma's house, I could see MILLIONS of stars.  And, for some reason, unknown to me at this time, when we drove home from Grandma's house after celebrating her birthday I would see shooting stars.  I would make wish after wish after wish.  My mom used to tell me there were always shooting stars on her birthday.  She didn't tell me why, but she knew the stars were always falling on her birthday.

Now that I'm the sophisticated grown-up that I find myself today (and because of the internet), I know why there are always shooting stars on my mom's birthday.  Sure, she's special and deserves a celestial light show, but the fact remains on August 12th the earth passes through a debris field from the Swift-Tuttle comet.  The result is the Perseid meteor shower and the show is spectacular.

If you have the opportunity on August 12th to view the sky in a remote area where the stars can be seen clearly.  Do it and enjoy the show.  You could wish my mom a happy birthday, too.

476.  Taking time to remember my grandma
477.  Lunch out in town with my husband
478.  Watching olympic gymnasts doing their very best and winning GOLD
479.  Being inspired by olympic athletes (but still sitting on my couch)

photo by wikipedia