Christmas -- After the fact. . .

My children and I had a quiet Christmas at home. Instead of the traditional turkey dinner, I did the Black Southern thing and cooked gumbo. We ate until we hurt ourselves. That was one of our Christmas highlights.

My 17 year old daughter is not usually an emotional girl but after she opened her gifts on Christmas morning she sat on the floor looking as if she would cry at any moment. Sure enough, as soon as I asked her what was wrong – she burst into tears. My initial thought was that she was disappointed that she didn’t receive a gift she wanted. But she immediately corrected me and said that she was sad that this would likely be her last Christmas living at home because she’s off to college this fall. So, she and I sat and cried together for a few minutes. My how the time just whizzed by. I know it sounds cliché but it does seem that just yesterday she was a little bitty girl who always wanted to sit on my lap.

It’s funny because even though she’s now a 17-year old young woman, she still seems to want to jump right inside my skin. I’m always kidding her about invading my personal space but I will definitely miss her being “in my box” after she leaves. She’s not only been my “road dog” all these years, she’s been my best friend. She’s an incredibly mature young woman and I do wonder what it will be like when she leaves. Oh well, we shall soon find out.

My 22 year old son had some sadness on Christmas also. He was sad because his 3 ½ month old daughter spent Christmas in California with her mom. He sure hated missing her first Christmas.

This young man is one of the most compassionate people I’ve ever known. His compassion is truly one of his most admirable qualities. Yesterday we had a long conversation about various topics. And repeatedly during our conversation he would say things like, “if I had the money, I’d just give it to him” or “how can we help this person?” This child of mine has always been like the person who attracts stray dogs. Not to say that any of his friends are stray dogs but since junior high school he seemed to develop deep friendships with the neediest kids. And he would bring them home assuming that we would be able to do something to help. As a result, he had different friends practically living with us throughout all of his high school years.

Christmas highlighted his compassion all the more. A friend of his came to live with us for what I thought would be a couple weeks in September. Well, a few weeks turned into 3 months. I was so outdone by the extended stay and the extra mouth to feed that I was just flat out annoyed at the sight of his friend. My son did everything in his power to calm me during the 3 months because this friend had already had such a tough life financially that he just wanted him to experience a few months of peace.

I am so incredibly proud of both of my children. As I was sitting crying with my daughter on Christmas, I shed several tears about my son as well. This will also probably be his last Christmas at home. He’s a little slower moving than his sister in terms of being independent but I sense that he will soon be gone.
I do welcome this impending new chapter in my life, but I’m also a little sad that these kiddies of mine grew up so darn fast. I have been completely consumed with raising children for the past 22 years. What will I do with myself now?

Pharyn

My granddaughter . . .

Children change your life in unimaginable ways.

Thank you Lord!

A Black Republican Chick

 
I’ve avoided writing about anything political in a while because all of this has just been so draining. This is probably a tough time for Republicans in general, but to be Black and Republican is a truly test of my resolve and convictions.

CNN had James T. Harris on a few days ago. He is the Black man who dared to stand and show support for McCain at a McCain rally. Sadly, he has been called an Uncle Tom and totally vilified by the Black community because he is bold enough to stand by his conservative principles. It’s that continuing expectation – all Black people must vote for Barack Obama. Should someone dare to support the McCain/Pallin ticket they are considered out of touch, a traitor, ignorant, trying to be White or a “suck up”. It’s just all so tiring I’m just about ready to cry.

A close friend (knowing that I am Republican and will not be voting for Obama) challenged me about the intelligence of Sarah Pallin the other day. It was disguised as a joke but the tone really bothered me.

My daughter nearly walked out of her Sunday school class last week because the leader brought up the election and everyone (except my daughter) jumped on the Obama bandwagon. She literally begged them to return to the lesson but they refused.

Many of my neighbors have McCain/Pallin signs in their front yards. I was thinking of putting one up too but my aunt will be here next week –visiting from California – and I just don’t want to deal with her response.

My sisters and I speak regularly but it is as if the presidential race is not even taking place. We dare not speak of it. How I wish that we could simply agree to disagree. Unfortunately, that’s not the case. It would definitely get ugly if we were to talk politics.

So with all of this in mind I’ve just not been in the mood to write about politics – especially considering the fact McCain is losing in the polls. A line in a song from the movie Hustle and Flow goes, “you know it’s hard out here for a pimp”. For some reason every time I think of this battle I sing to myself, “you know it’s hard our here for a Black Republican chick”. :-)

Euro

I failed to post a photo of Euro. I'd hate for her to feel slighted. We named her Euro because my daughter objected to naming her Dollar. :-) The costs associated with having a pet add up very quickly!

But isn't she cute?

Calgon Take Me Away

This is the point in my life where the entrepreneur, mother, Christian and concerned American in me are all taking big chunks of my time and energy. This past month has been a whirlwind and November promises to be more of the same. I can hardly believe that it’s been a month since I’ve written anything. Where did the time go?

Well, on September 7th we bought a puppy -- a mini-schnauzer named Euro. On September 8th my son’s childhood friend moved in with us. On September 9th my first grandchild (Pharyn) was born. In mid-September I decided that I needed larger offices for my business and began the search. I found the perfect office a few days later and we are moving next week. My daughter’s 17th birthday is this October 26th and I am shopping for a used car as a gift. When I add the election and the financial crisis to the mix – Calgon take me away!


Today I was “inspired” to write when someone emailed the picture above to me. I think it absolutely hits the nail on the head. Obama is seen as some type of superhero coming to save the nation. The problem with that view of course, is that this is not a movie. Or, as Jay-Z puts it, “this ain’t a movie dawg”

Pharyn Victoria

My precious, first grandchild was born at 12:17 yesterday afternoon. She was 6 weeks early but still weighed in at 6 pounds, 14 ounces! She is beautiful and healthy. Thank you Lord!!

So now you understand why I've been MIA. . .

1 Timothy 4:10

A woman in Massachusetts committed suicide this week just over an hour prior to a scheduled auction for her home. She was losing her home and could not handle the stress of it. Although she was married, she was responsible for handling the family’s finances. She didn’t share the money troubles or pending foreclosure with anyone – not even her husband.

My mother, after nearly 30 years of being completely financially dependent upon her husband, lost him in 1996 to cancer. A few months later her youngest daughter (my sister) was given a life sentence for forging a check for $146 under California’s Three Strikes Law. Shortly thereafter, she lost her best friend (my grandmother) to Alzheimer’s disease. Later that year she lost her daughter (me) to marriage to a man that she despised. (With good reason.)

Feeling alone, frightened and hopeless my mother committed suicide in Februrary 1998. The Massachusetts woman’s story reminded me of my mother’s story because, like her, my mother did not share her stress, her loneliness, her worries, her fears, nor her financial troubles with anyone.

Also like the Massachusetts woman, my mother told us all about the things that pushed her into that hopeless state in her suicide note. We found out too late.

People say that suicide is a selfish act. I suppose I understand that assessment but I have never thought of it that way. It just saddens me. It saddens me that they felt no hope.

No matter how difficult or unbearable or bleak things may feel, we always have hope when we have Christ. More than anything I regret that I did not have the opportunity to help my mother understand or to feel His hope.

1 Timothy 4:10 -- "For it is for this we labor and strive, because we have fixed our hope on the living God, who is the Savior of all men, especially of believers".

M.I.A.

It’s been a week since I’ve posted anything. I apologize, I was on vacation last week and am just now getting back into the swing of things. Above are a few photos to explain the absence. Boston and up the coast to Maine -- beautiful. . .

Happy Father’s Day Daddy

My stepfather was a very special man. He is the only father I’ve ever really known, so from this point on I will refer to him here, as I did growing up as my father – "Daddy”.

I didn’t really realize what a special man he was when I was growing up. Like most kids, I only focused on every shortcoming I could possibly identify -- and I kept the list nearby at all times.

There were times he irritated me so much I just wanted him to go away. I can’t even articulate what about him irritated me. If anything, it was probably me just wanting to dislike him as some kind of crazy defense mechanism. After all, he was my sister’s father, and not truly mine. I’ve always been very protective of my heart (even as a child) so I guess I just thought disliking him was safer than openly loving him. Crazy, huh?

Now I remember and appreciate the fact that he really was a funny, loving, generous, caring man who loved my two sisters and me unconditionally and equally. He was Daddy.

My regret (as is often the case) is that I did not get over myself enough to tell him how I felt about him until he was on his death bed. He was literally lying there with only hours left when I finally told him how much I loved him and appreciated him. How I praise God for that opportunity and I am thankful that Daddy heard, understood and acknowledged it.

He did things for us that probably sound minor but really meant a lot. We rode the public bus to junior high and high school, but if it was raining -- 9 times out of 10 Daddy was out front waiting to take us home when school dismissed. Instead of appreciating the ride, my thoughts were, “I sure hope my friends don’t see me getting in the Sanford and Son pickup truck.”

Daddy taught me to drive but instead of appreciating him taking the time, I got annoyed with him for falling asleep while I was at the wheel. He had narcolepsy – a horrible case of it I might add. He’d fall asleep in mid-sentence, in the middle of dinner, driving – you name it and he fell asleep doing it.

Daddy gave us our allowance. I should have appreciated that because I don’t think my mother would have given us an allowance. But it drove me crazy that I started with $14 a week in 9th grade and I was still getting $14 a week in 12th grade. Now I know that $14 was better than no dollars but back then I refused to let it go.

Daddy was very even-tempered and everyone loved him. My mother was the opposite. So in a household of much cussin’ and fussin’ (by my mother) – I should have welcomed his peaceful demeanor.

Daddy took me on my first trip out of the state. We drove to Louisiana. For me, that was the longest, most boring ride and I think my sister and I complained all the way there and all the way home. Sure, I was only 12 but I should have or could have appreciated the vacation.

I could actually go on for quite a while, now that I think about it. Of course he had his faults but he was a good man. He was a good father. And he did whatever he had to do to provide for our family so that my mother would not have to work.

So as my thoughts drift to Sunday, I can say “Happy Father’s Day Daddy” with many cherished memories in mind.

Milestones & Carelessness

My daughter got her driver’s license today. My son is paying a traffic ticket for a running red light today. And I’m trying to figure out how I will manage to continue to pay for both gas and auto insurance.

In this case, reaching a milestone and being careless both have the same bottom line effect -- mo' money, mo' money, mo' money. This ain’t right.

Graduation Observations

I went to the high school graduation for my daughter’s school yesterday. She doesn’t graduate until next year but many of her friends graduated yesterday – so I decided to go. Most graduations are pretty boring to me so I found myself sitting there making silly observations such as:

1. My area must be pretty diverse – there was a good percentage of African, Vietnamese, Chinese, Japanese and Latino names in the graduation program.

2. Reading through the program reminded me that Black folks sure have a “unique” way of naming their children. (I’ll say no more on that subject.)

3. People don’t really dress up to attend graduations anymore. Although the graduation was held at a church, most people were dressed like they were on their way to a picnic.

4. Nobody seems to really pay attention to any of the graduation speeches. That’s really a shame for the speakers.

5. Although the principal said that they would announce a name every 3 seconds to expedite the process (which meant that it should have taken only 21 minutes to call the 423 names) they actually averaged 5 – 6 seconds so it took twice that amount of time. Of course that is the most boring part of a graduation.

6. Although the principal asked that no one use air horns or any other noise-makers during the ceremony, there were 3 or 4 hardheads in the audience.

While I think that graduations are generally very boring – I always get sentimental and cry during the ceremony. Hearing Pomp and Circumstance just does something to me. The most significant observation of the night was that most all of the family and friends in attendance were generally happy and excited.

There was a look of pure joy on the faces of people as they took photos, cheered for their loved ones and just sat waiting to hear their graduates’ names. Watching that excitement actually made my boredom wane. This was the first of what will hopefully be many educational milestones in the lives of the Class of 2008.

More Birthday Stuff

It’s tradition in our family for the people celebrating their “un-birthday” (remember that from Alice in Wonderland?) to wake early on the morning of the birthday person’s birthday, tiptoe into his/her room and sing Happy Birthday. So, knowing my early morning schedule, my kids set their alarms for 6 this morning and came into my room singing and bearing gifts. B gave me a big basket from Bath and Body works. L gave me a yellow sun dress. My morning is definitely off to a nice start.

Traditionally on their birthdays I tell them the story of their birth. I tell them about labor and what I thought when I first held them. This morning, they returned the tradition (kind of) by telling me a funny childhood story.

We had some, “Mom, remember the time . .?” moments. L told the story about putting the smooth, pretty rock in her mouth for safe keeping – and swallowing it. I had to take her to emergency and then check her poop for several days afterward looking for that darned rock. There are no limits to the disgusting things a mother will do for her child.

B told the story about the fast little girl who wrote him a love note in elementary school. He showed me the note and I was outraged. My child was only in 4th grade and this little girl was asking about ”getting with him”. I took the note to the principal and the girl was suspended. I had to protect my child from that little Jezebel.

They really made me happy this morning. Because it was so early on a Saturday morning, I fully expected them to sing, drop the gifts and run back to bed. But not only did they spend some time with me this morning (much earlier than they would have liked) L is in the kitchen now making breakfast for me. And, later today we are all going golfing. It doesn’t get much better than this.

Thank God for birthdays! Tomorrow -- back to reality.

45 is Cool!

I’ll be 45 years old tomorrow. That’s absolutely amazing to me. I certainly don’t feel like I thought I’d feel reaching 45. My friends and I often talk about the fact that we still feel like we’re in our 20’s. I’d like to think that I don’t look 45 either.

Of course I must admit that my body constantly reminds me that I am indeed aging. My hair is thinning a little and I can no longer ignore the gray. I have to wear glasses to read when I used to have 20/20 vision. I gain weight much more easily when I used to be a little stick. I have high cholesterol when I used to be able to eat all the ice cream I wanted. It takes a few steps each morning for my legs to “warm up” and not hurt when I walk. I have acid reflux when – well wait a minute -- actually I’ve had that for a while. I have restless leg syndrome but hmmm, well I think I’ve always had that too. They just finally put a name to it. (I guess I can't blame everything on aging.) Anyway, my point is that some things are not working as well as they used to work.

In spite of my body’s little reminders, I have no complaints. Some people dread getting older but each year I seem to get a bit more excited. I feel like I am at a new beginning.

I have one grown child and one almost grown. The thought of my children being grown and gone used to make me sad. I so enjoyed every aspect of raising them and spending time with them that I just felt that my life would be empty without them in the home. But now although I love them more than anything and still enjoy spending time with them, I am looking forward to the “me” time. I often tell them that when they leave my mantra will be “catch me if you can” because I plan to travel like crazy.

Being single and the ultimate introvert, my other concern about getting older used to be that I’d be lonely. But now I think about it and recall that I’ve always been able to be ok all by myself. Even now, armed with a good book, I’d actually prefer being alone.

A friend asked me where I’d like to live if I could live anywhere in the world. I couldn’t narrow it down to one place. I would love to either live abroad or on a sprawling ranch someplace. Either adventure would ensure that I wouldn’t have time to be lonely. These aren’t faraway dreams but definite plans for my future.

In talking about my birthday, my daughter asked me how long I’d like to live. My answer was that I’d like to live long enough to see the success of my children’s children. I did some quick math and determined that would put me right around 85 years old.

But I want to be a spunky, self-sufficient 85 year old. I saw a 100 year old woman celebrating her birthday on the news the other day. People gathered around her to sing and were looking at her and treating her like she was a little girl. And then they added insult to injury by putting a party hat on her head. At some point you seem to get so old that people start treating you like you are a child again. I don’t want to be that kind of old.

This point in my life is exciting indeed. I’m 45 with many accomplishments and wonderful memories behind me but they don’t begin to equal all that I see in my future. I’m not sure what 45 is supposed to feel like but I feel really good. 45 is cool!

Mama

Mama was my grandmother. I remain convinced that she was the greatest grandmother the world has ever known. How fortunate I was to have had her as my own. Mama poured into my two sisters, two cousins and me in infinite ways.

Mama was always quoting Scripture but she was so wise in so many ways, that we didn’t realize until many years later that they were Bible verses and not just sage Mama-isms.

Mama was definitely a Proverbs 31 woman. She made sure that we always behaved in a prim and proper way, that we were exceptionally polite, that we memorized Bible verses, that we went to Sunday School each and every Sunday (and when she sent us off to Sunday School she made sure we put a quarter in our shoe for offering), that we learned to sew (by hand), and she made sure we were always dressed appropriately and modestly.

More than any of that, she made certain that we knew that we were loved. She signed all of our cards (and she gave them for every occasion -- birthday, Easter, Christmas, Valentine’s Day) “love always, your devoted grandmother.” She was indeed devoted to her grandchildren.

Aside from Scriptures, Mama had a phrase or quote for every occasion and every circumstance.

“It’s a poor dog who won’t wag his own tail” meant that it was ok to brag on yourself a little.

“Every shut eye ain’t sleep and every goodbye ain’t gone.” meant don’t think you can get away with something just because you don’t see somebody else around looking at you or because you think people are gone – they can come right back.

“Hit dog holler” meant you said something to someone and it hit a nerve.

It was important to Mama that she instilled in us a very strong sense of right and wrong. Without hesitation she would quickly correct us if we were wrong and she would make sure that we went back and “made it right”. Because of her acute desire to always do what was right, everybody loved the woman affectionately known to everyone else as “Mama Clark”.

Today I find that I use Mama’s scale to measure right and wrong. I find myself repeating her sayings. One thing that I say to my children all of the time is “you are supposed to do right even if no one else does.” That wasn’t one of Mama’s sayings but it is a direct result of her influence in my life.

As much as I loved and miss my mother, this Mother’s Day my mind goes back to the memories of Mama. She was a perfect example of a Godly woman and I can only hope and pray that I have been successful in imparting at least a little bit of Mama to my children.