When I grow up

What do you want to be when you grow up? It didn't take much for me to answer that question when I was little. First of all, I wanted to be a mommy. Next I wanted to be a dancer. A close second was movie star followed by stewardess (that's what they were called back then).

So how close did I come to that target? Well, marriage was expected of young women in the 50's and 60's. Finding a man was important. A career wasn't even something we considered. I needed a husband. Men back then wanted a woman to cook, clean, wash his clothes, bear his children and to be available whenever he wanted a little lovin'. Women knew the job going to the altar. They really didn't think of much more. Of course, the sixties began a new way of thinking. Many women were working in the city. Some were tapping into the new world of computers. Some went off to college and didn't return to their hometowns. However, I was on that edge of what was expected and what was to come. I married and didn't do it well. I had been raised told what I could and couldn't do. I knew there was more. It took a roving husband to give me the boost I needed.

So back to the question. I came fairly close to some of my dreams. Mustering up my courage, I did pick up my love of acting. I found I had a skill at teaching others to act. I found that I had a knack with words and began writing. I wrote and produced plays on social issues for twelve years. And, I was a mommy. Instead of standing back wondering if I could do something, I decided that I'd never know if I didn't try. I needed to change with the times and find new dreams. Life was and is an adventure.

I remember when I took on my first job involving a computer. I was scared to death of the thing. Then I decided not be afraid. I ended up helping other when they had computer problems. I found a new adventure, one of discovery. Just recently I got and iphone. Another new adventure.

I went online to see what jobs children are wanting to pursue in their adulthood. My son pursued his career in theatre and music. My daughter wanted to be a veterinarian tech. Now kids want to be firemen, doctors, lawyers, pilots, actors, athletes, teachers, race car drivers. Hm. My granddaughter Sydney wants to be a teacher or maybe a nurse. Gabby wants to teach gymnastics. I continually try to open doors of new experiences for them. "Find your gifts," I tell them. "Do what you love." My grandbabies are nine months old now. I spend time showing them new things. With the warm summer weather we have been experiencing, I sit in the yard with them and show them flowers and plants. They hold a stick and watch a lady bug. They touch a leaf and learn that it is green. Opening doors. Sometimes I think that is the best job of all.

What do I want to be when I grow up? I'm still growing up, you know. I love new experiences. I love finding old friends on Facebook and learning to be friends all over again. I love that there are parts of my brain that have yet to be opened. For me, getting older means that I am aware of how important it is to make my life as full as possible. I want my children and grandchildren to know that old does not mean empty.

What do you want to be when you grow up? Well, when I am done growing up, I will be in Heaven.

Perhaps

Perhaps it is time to revisit my blog. Perhaps. Life is chaotic. Twin babies now nine months old. Babysitting and working. An every day trade off. Struggling with my living situation and wanting more in my life. Having my 66th birthday next month. Perhaps it is time for a revisit. Perhaps.

More than Prayers

There is no care list, list of people needing prayers, that can hold all of the pain and suffering happening now in our beloved American states. There are prayers for a world in pain. There are prayers. There are prayers for those experiencing loss of limb, loss of loved ones. There are prayers. Yet, there is more to do than bow a head.

We are raising our children and grandchildren in a time when life sits on a tenuous strand which  seems to swing and sway sometimes breaking. The peace and tranquility of country living is torn apart by an explosion. Instead of a victory at a finish line, the ground is covered with the blood of innocents. We are raising children. We are raising the future.

Our prayers should be our actions. We need to know our fellow neighbors. We need to hold dear those around us, embracing them in times of distress and celebrating their successes. We need to teach our children to be strong and look for hope when there seems to be none. We need to keep the lines of communication open. We need to learn to seek truth and understanding.

News commentators give us hours of coverage about terrorism. Why do we give terrorist the satisfaction of talking about them? Why do we give them 'prime' time? Americans fail to have a good reputation in many countries. Perhaps that fact alone should make us try harder to know the history and stories of our foreign neighbors. My friend's caregiver is from Kenya. He left a high ranking job in his home country to come to America, because his family thought he would find the streets paved with gold. I asked him why he doesn't go home. He told me that he cannot go home, because it would be a disgrace in the eyes of his family and community. So he works in a care center changing Depends and moving bodies that cannot move on their own. He works long hours for a low wage, so he can send money home. He is a success in the eyes of his family. A stranger in a foreign land.

We send up the prayers. God hears them and expects us to be his hands here on Earth. We are the tools of His trade.

When the bombs went off in Boston, I wanted to gather my family and put them all in a safe place. I wanted to see all of their faces and tell them how much I love them. I cannot change the world except for that of which I am a part. I have my family.....I have the family of God.

Thank You

Dear Readers,

In case you have wondered where I have been, I have been contemplating. My blogs began in July 2009. I think perhaps the blogs saved my sanity when I was struggling so much with unemployment and family problems. When your head is full of words, it helps to have a place to write them.

I have found over time that others have shared my feelings about grandparenting. We all seem to share basic concerns and feel our age even more when it comes to play time. I am been part of a community. One that means a great deal to me. I have followers who mean the world to me. You have been part of my life for these many months. Thank you for your support and for being my invisible friends.

So what am I saying? I'm not sure I have much to offer any more. I feel the well is dry and am left with fewer words of wisdom. I don't know that I will give up these pages as they are the days of my life. I will write on occasion, but don't wait for me. This has been my journal. This has been the life of my family. It is a journey that still I live.

I give one final wish for all of you. You are a power in the world. You have the power each day to change the life of another for the better. We all have a chance to share laughter and positive thoughts. Let's continue to make a difference.

My love and thanks to you,

Pam

Conversation with the Twins

The babies laid on the play mat. I wanted so to hold both of them. At six months the job is impossible when alone. A wave of sadness washed over me. They may be six months old, but I am going to be sixty-six this year. When they are going on with their lives, I will be a very old grammy. It is evident now that the energy I had with my older granddaughters is less. I feel my age more and more.  I can fight the clock, but it will win in the end.

So as the babies laid there playing beneath their dangling toys, I told them how much I love them. I told them about Neff Road and their cousins. I told them about my dreams for them. I told them that I will try my best to keep up with them and their lives. I told them that my love for them would last for eternity, that I would always watch over them.

Tiny hands with palms as soft as silk. Little toes lined up like a string of pearls. I try to absorb each moment knowing that each will pass too quickly. I hope that somewhere in there little brains they imprint the woman I am now. I know that I have time ahead to make our relationships grow. Still these moments will be gone.

Life goes on. Those of us who are grandparents realize just how quickly it goes. Our families can't possibly know how much they mean to us. They can't possibly know that each smile, each touch, each sharing of our days is embedded in that place called heart. Truly I believe that when I am with my grandchildren, I am also with God. For my heart swells with a love that can only be given to me by a higher power.

The Inner Barometer

Revelations come at the strangest times. Mine usually happen while I'm driving. Something happens that niggles in my brain. I'm not sure why it is hanging around, but evidently my brain refuses to give it up. So why not embrace it and check it out, which is what I do in the car.

My friend and I had a conversation about the problem with the Java download on computers. I heard a program on NPR that said that the Department of Homeland Security was asking people to remove Java from their computers. I went online to check it out. (http://www.usatoday.com/story/tech/2013/01/14/oracle-says-java-is-fixed-feds-maintain-warning/1834355/) Sure enough, it was true. When I told my friend, she flared up that it couldn't be true. Why she had just downloaded the newest version! She flew into this angry snit. When she had the snit, I got that clenching feeling in my stomach.

So while driving my car, I began analyzing this entire conversation fraught with feelings. First of all, I've come to understand that my body relays messages all the time. I don't always listen to them, but as I age, I know that I need to pay more attention. Her posturing and her comment immediately put my body into a "there's a problem" mode. I knew her reaction and words were not right by the way I felt. I didn't like her reaction. It put me on the defense as well as made me feel that she had just shot me down. I was casually mentioning something that I thought I should pass on, and she rebuffed it vehemently. So what was driving her response? My dear friend does not like to be told that something is different to her thinking. Instead of listening and having conversation, she goes into defensive mode. For some reason, she cannot see what she does to herself and others. She has a son who is difficult to handle...he is the shadow of his mother.

I know that a time will come when my friend and I can talk about it. Obviously, conversation and differences of opinions are something she needs to embrace. It is the only way we can learn and grow. Yet I see this same protective wall go up all around me by leaders and followers. That protective wall that wraps around a person and doesn't allow for growth and change. Sometimes I think the older generation is so steeped in opinion that new ideas, different ways of looking at things, become those things that separate people.

I wondered how my friend felt when she protested. I think perhaps she had that same clenching going on. But instead of just talking about it, she attacked it. Conversation, debate, change, cooperation. We are examples for others. We are the mirror of the past that made us who we are. For our families, we can become the future through peace and understanding. We don't all need to agree, but we certainly need to learn to care about one another enough to listen.

My inner barometer is usually right on. Wish I had learned to listened to it long ago.

On Thin Ice

My first skates were double bladed. Sturdy skates that would keep me upright on the ice. I learned to shuffles the skates back and forth not moving much at first then finally moving forward bit by bit. When I was a little older, I graduated to shoe skates. Each winter it took a little time for me to get that balance back and to race around the ice. A balancing act.

I learned a lot during those years of growing up on the ice back in the gravel pit on my grandfather's farm. I learned that I could fall and get up again. I learned to overcome my fear of being hurt. I learned that it took time to strengthen my wobbly ankles. I learned to beware of thin ice.

Our lives are full of life lessons. Learning to take steps is much like learning to ice skate. Learning to get up from failure and to find our footing again is something we deal with our entire lives. We learn. We do learn. In our learning, we find that we can help others through their similar struggles.

As a grandparent, I've learned that I might have the knowledge, but I do not need to be the answers. Our children and grandchildren are the skaters. They need to learn how to move forward, how to stand on their own two feet. They need to learn to fall and get up again.

I grew up learning how to fall down and how to get up once more. What have I learned? I learned that in dealing with my family I need to beware of thin ice.