Tuesday, August 7, 2012

I prayed for you today...


                              And I don’t even know your name.



I prayed for all my sisters and brothers in Christ. I prayed for those who don't yet know Jesus.

I prayed for all those suffering illness or pain. I prayed for those who have good health and prosperity.

I paid for those who are lonely. I prayed for those with more friends than they can count.

I prayed for those with addictions and fears. I prayed for those who are traveling in confidence and joy.

I prayed for those who are worried about their children…spouses…parents. I prayed for everyone someone else is worrying about.

I prayed for those who feel burdened by the problems of life. I prayed for those who get up knowing things are going right.

I prayed for the workers. I prayed for the idle.

I prayed for all God’s children. I prayed for those who don’t see Him as Father.

See – I prayed for you today, and I don’t even know your name.

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Dad - for your 90th birthday


I think that I should mention my Dad now.

He moved from a house to a senior living facility, where he still makes his own meals, watches classic tv and writes. My dad, 90 years old, uses a walker or cane due to knee problems, can't always remember where he left things, but just bought his first laptop with wireless printer. He stocked up on paper and toner...I got him a wireless mouse and he has been writing ever since. He is trying to tell us what he is all about by writing stories - non-fiction and fiction, and letting us see the world through his eyes and words.

He was born in 1922, served in WWII and Korea and then remained a reservist till he retired.

My dad always worked when I was growing up - fulltime as a mailman (letter carrier if I need to be politically correct) and on and off in part time employment as a AAA dispatcher, school janitor, tow truck driver...

When we were young, Mary and I were Daddy's girls, as Mom worked evenings. When Mom would go to the hospital to have one of my younger siblings, the teachers always knew because our usually carefully curled hair was somewhat less tight being wrapped around Dad's much larger fingers.

When Mom worked, Dad was our Girl Scout parent, stepping in on his turn. He had so much confidence in being a man that he never felt threatened or scared by Mom's success.

never saw Dad angry, a situation he attributes to having used all his anger up in his youth...and having nothing to show for it. He considered anger a wasted emotion.

I saw him cry only twice - once when my Aunt Margaret died, after hearing the anguish in her young son's grief, and once when my Mother's health took a turn for the worse, and we knew that she would be leaving soon.

My dad remarried after my mother's death. He buried his second wife when he was in his late 80's. Will he marry again? I wouldn't be surprised.

He is 90 and still loves the company and excitement of women. He loves all his daughters and took all of them through the pangs of adolescence, some through the pain of divorce, some through the confusion of life itself. He has helped us all financially and emotionally over the years.

As for his son...two men were never so different and so alike. Kevin and Dad differed on everything but it was because they saw the world with passion and as a source of discovery...one through the eyes of a mature and experienced man...the other as a hopeful, driven young man.

My dad is not a 90 year old man at a senior housing center. He is a loving father, a trusted friend, a gentle soul and giant heart. My dad is not an idle retiree but a driven and active man who just doesn't have to work any more.

He reads and encouraged us to do so - he loves cartoons, The Three Stooges and Get Smart with Don Adams. He enjoys music and good food. He believes in God, worship and his church.

He is there for us every step of the way, the only person in my family to consistantly attend my silly choir concerts and gives an adequate and fair review afterwards.

I keep saying Dad this and Dad that...but he is Daddy. He is my link with the past. He is the teller of stories and the keeper of secrets. Dad questions if I am on the right track since some of my choices differ from what he and Mom had planned for me. Daddy loves and respects my decisions.

And for all that he saw in his children's lives, Daddy couldn't stand to see us cry. He always had a gentle hand and teasing joke to get us back on track. He had a special handkerchief he would pull out and blot up our tears, telling us that he was holding them and each would turn into a pearl for us.

I don't have a pearl necklace from my dad, but Daddy has given me many pearls of wisdom to make me a better and stronger person.

Daddy loves me, and my sisters, brother, our families and many friends. And we love him back.


























Thursday, July 5, 2012

gotta love a detour

When driving down the road, how frustrated do we get when we have to detour? You see people slow down, analyze the options and then finally realize that, yes, the road is truly closed. Once they experience a detour, they can focus on the frustration of being off their planned road or enjoy the new scenery.

We are the same way about our faith. We have a route for heaven and we know all the steps to get there. But what if something stops our progress? A death – divorce – lost job or feeling of despair and we are forced off our original plan. These are the detours we have to bear but often we forget to embrace them as part of the journey.

When God propels you off your plan He is really putting you on His. And if you take time to enjoy the scenery, it isn’t just new billboards, green trees or an unexpected park in the midst of buildings. You will see helping hands, smiling faces and open arms.

Our minds are geared to the end of our journey and we forget to be flexible enough to enjoy each unpredictable step of it.

God doesn’t alter our path in spite or to test us, but to assure us that He is there no matter what path we are on. The easiest way to secure our own path, is to follow His lead. Our path is based on ease and comfort  – predictability and total lack of surprise. God blesses us with challenges and trials – new experiences and, ultimately, well-earned peace.

So next time you think about your faith journey, think of the times you got unexpected blessings, undeserved mercy and unending love. Those are the times you detoured. And what a boring trip it would have been if you had stayed on your own course.

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

how it looks - only one person's opinion

 
It was an historic event. For the third time in US history, a seated governor had been subject to a recall election. For the first time, the seated governor won and remains in charge.

My advice – move on, people. There have been tears, cries of the end of democracy, death threats to the governor and general lament.  And why?
Because a group of people decided that he was evil and when trying to balance the state budget,  required a group of complainers to pay their fair share. He set up for the teachers in the state to be treated as individuals and not a group. I know that there are those that say collective bargaining is a “right” but I believe it is like any perk in the workplace.
I resent that the teachers I know who work their fingers to the bone, sacrifice family time and personal comfort to try to teach and influence the youth of Wisconsin are given no more money or benefits than the teacher who shows up, works and leaves, with no concern for the lessons learned or the lives touched.
I resent that I work for ½ what a teacher is being paid (their salaries are public record – I checked some names of people who have been most verbal) to work 12 months a year. And then am told that I don’t know what it’s like to work - and I work 5 days a week, 9+ hours a day, year round.
I resent that I pay my own insurance, watching the rate I pay increase yearly, but pay it anyway and then are told that my tax dollars are paying the insurance of people who pay nothing...and in the new system will still pay less than I do. And I am locked into the insurance my employer provides - unless I really want to pay more for the luxury of a choice.
I resent that teachers keep saying how they went to college so they deserve more money and respect. I may not have a degree, but I have gone to classes (paid for by myself) to educate myself and keep up to date in my field. I only get what my company can afford to pay. Is greed a reason to bankrupt my employer?
It would be so easy in real life to have my salary based on what someone else is earning and not on what I deserve. But on the other hand, why should they get what I make if I am working harder?
As a taxpayer, I get slightly miffed when I see the quality of education on the national charts near the bottom.  Wisconsin has been lacking in the quality of student they are releasing to the world…would more money make better teachers? It hasn’t been proven in the past. How do our teachers demand all sorts of benefits when the test scores indicate they are not doing what they are being paid to do?
I do know some incredible teachers who should get twice the going rate. I say screw the ones who hide in the teachers’ lounges except for the time they are required to be with their students.

When the educators actually prove that they are worth more money, benefits and acclaim, I am all for rewarding them accordingly. But for now, they haven’t done anything to make me support them or talk them up.
And if you are really adament and angry, put your name on the ballot - put your face and family, your reputation and values, your sensitivity and understanding out there for everyone to see.
But for the most verbal, you seem to prefer to be part of a crowd and avoid that Face to Face thing.
So to all those who are sitting at home whining about the end of democracy or plotting how to waste another billion tax dollars because you didn’t get your way…suck it up. Gather some self respect and pride and move on. 

Monday, June 4, 2012

`This is sad…
I just heard that a friend’s 17 year old nephew committed suicide. He was a young man who seemed to have no other choice…in his mind.

When I posted a note of condolence to his family, I clicked the box that let me know if other notes were posted. I have read the whole guest book and it dawned on me that this young man had friends who he saw daily and they embraced their friendship. There were people his age that hadn’t seen him for a while but remembered wonderful things about him. There are family members, church members, friends and friends of friends (like me) who wanted to comfort his family.

How much difference would it have made if he had known how much his friends loved him?  How much love was out there for his family that he could have gathered for himself?

I had a poster when I was younger that said, Life is Short – and there is not time to brighten the hearts of those traveling the dark way with us…O, be swift to love. Make haste to be kind.

It was a paraphrase of a Pablo Neruda poem. I received it 40 years ago and it still haunts me. Every time I see someone lost I wonder if he could have been saved had he known how loved he was.

Today I encourage…urge…DEMAND!!! That you find someone you love and admire and tell them so. Don’t post your memories in a guest book after their death. Post them on a billboard for the living, breathing person to see.

And you may find out how loved and admired you are, too.

Saturday, April 7, 2012

Mom said be practical

I dreamt about my mom last night.
It was one of those weird dreams where we were in a restaurant, or eatery of some sort - maybe the dining room at Alexian Village where my dad now lives.
It was filled with families at tables.
My dad was with me, and Liz ...I don't know who took the fourth space at our table, but my mom sort of walked over and was with us. She was wearing the dress she made for my wedding mass.

Dad was suddenly not there and Liz and I were talking about Dad's 90th birthday and I wanted to get him an Amazon gift card so he could learn how to shop on line. Liz suggested something funny, like a stuffed animal and I asked Mom if we should do fun or practical gifts.
Mom said, the main gift should be practical and then we could fill in with fun.  Sounds to me like a life lesson.
I didn't waste the 27 years since my Mom died, but I wasn't always practical with them. Maybe I should remember that practical and fun can go together and I would be fulfilled if I learn to blend both.

When we were leaving, my mom was taking the napkins to throw them away and I finally broke down and asked the question I've held inside for years.
"Do you miss us or is heaven that wonderful? Some days I miss you so much I don't know if I can go on."
She replied, "heaven is that wonderful."  She listed a number of names of people she knew in heaven and then she told me to hang in there.

And I woke up.

I miss you Mom.

Thursday, March 15, 2012

I got a cold...

So here I go...started being Sleepy and Sneezy...then I got Grumpy...Doc moved in and gave me a few cold pills and I became Happy and Dopey. As for Bashful? Well, do you see this posted on a public forum or my private shared blog. If it wasn't unseasonably warm we could do the Snow White thing...

Fairy tales can come true!