What happened at the Boston Marathon yesterday is incomprehensible. A senseless act of violence against innocent people; so horrific that it takes our breath away. It’s like Sandy Hook all over again. We are in shock, and react with the predictable emotions… anger, fear, sorrow, helplessness. In the midst of the chaos and confusion, however – there is another side to the story. A gentle, loving side. There were police officers, first responders, hospital workers, med students, ambulance drivers. There were bystanders and complete strangers. They all rushed in to help with one common purpose…to help in any way that they could. Marathon runners who had yet to complete the run, instead ran/walked the rest of the “race” to the Red Cross to offer what they could. Even after running a marathon. When surrounding hotels were forced to close down, messages poured out from the people of Boston – offering their homes as a warm place to stay. People opened their hearts in the midst of devastating chaos, and this reminds us NOT to lose sight of something very fundamental. People are good. Random acts of violence do not change this fact.
So what to do…?
Well, I say we fight fire with fire. OK – remember back in science class when we learned about the “law of motion” from Sir Issac Newton…”For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.” (Ok. So I liked science.) Yesterday’s “action” was a random act of violence. Our “reaction” is to come back, FULL FORCE, with a barrage of RANDOM ACTS OF KINDNESS. Let’s show the world we care.
“If you can’t feed a hundred people, just feed one”. – Mother Teresa
Ponder that thought – I’ll be back tomorrow.
“In spite of everything, I really do believe people are good at heart.” (Ann Frank)
(A repost from exactly two years ago… With love. To you, Alice. I miss you today xoxo)
Today would have been my lovely friend, Alice’s, birthday. April 2. My birthday falls on May 2. We celebrated our birthdays together in 1987 and 1988.
Unfortunately, that was all the time we were blessed with…
We moved to London in the fall of 1986 for a (short… way too short) two year adventure with my husband’s accounting firm. Knowing that I only had a very limited period of time, I decided that the best way to do things was to jump in feet first; and ask questions later. So that’s exactly what I did. “Getting cozy” with the Brits, however, was a rather daunting task. It was much easier to develop friendships with the New Zealanders, Aussies and the other Americans. The British are, overall, a bit more distant and hard to get to know. And I am the first to admit that my personality might be a bit “over the top” for them. Regardless, I decided to venture out of the old “comfort zone”. We had been attending mass in a massive English cathedral… cold and dark and full of gold and stained glass. “Cozy” is notexactly the word that I am going for here. I decided to pursue some volunteer work through the church. I made some contacts, and before I knew it, I had a slip of paper in my hand with two names, addresses and telephone numbers. They were “older women” who might welcome a visit or two. One of the names scribbled on that piece of paper….was Alice.
I phoned her “straightaway” and made arrangements to stop by for tea. Her flat was down a quiet little cobblestone street near “Marble Arch” in the heart of London. I knocked, the door opened… and, in that very moment,a friendship began. Yes; Really. Just like that. We started out setting specific times and dates for my visits. But as the friendship deepened, we started having “impromptu” visits between visits! I would phone her to see if perhaps I might stop by for a quick visit. “That would be lovely”, she would say. She loved the word “lovely”. Not once did she turn me away. And they were not usually quick visits, either – ha! We would just sit and talk for hours. Alice had lost her husband many years prior and had no children. Her closest relative was a niece (and her family) who lived outside of London, but she didn’t really get together with them very often. I knew that my visits meant the world to her. Truth is, they meant the world to me, as well.
Alice would leave the front door open when she knew that I was on the way. I would let myself in, and from the moment that I stepped inside that tiny, dimly lit, cozy little flat – it was like my heart coming home. If I close my eyes I can still remember everything like it was yesterday… the sound of the teacups and saucers clanking against the tray as she made her way
to the tiny little kitchen table… the scent of freshly brewed tea and something warm from the oven… sometimes the soft little purr of a kitty that also called Alice “home”. Alice had a frail little body, crooked fingers, soft golden white hair and a tiny little voice. Her eyes would sparkle when I entered the room with a love that was, indeed, mutual; and shared between the two of us. We were separated by many, many years; it’s true. But we were kindred spirits; friends of the heart. It was a gift, and I think that we both knew that we were blessed in the moment. We treasured those moments up until the very, very end. Leaving Alice felt like I was ripping out a piece of my heart and leaving it there in London… Indeed I was.
Upon returning to the states, we kept our promise to each other to write often. Those letters meant the world to me. Sometimes I would even call her just to say a quick “hi” and hear her voice. I still remember calling to tell her that I was pregnant with twins and she was going to be a “grandma”… xo! She was SO excited and just kept saying how “lovely” that was… her favorite word!! She started making plans to come to the United States after they were born. “Nothing would make me happier”, I told her.
I still remember the day the letter came.
It was from her niece. I sat down. I started crying before I even opened it. “Auntie Alice” had passed away peacefully in her sleep. She knew that I would want to know. She had found my letters, along with my address, there next to her bed. She thanked me for being such a special person in her “auntie’s” life. Wow. “Ever had a memory that sneaks out of your eye, and rolls down your cheek…?”
So today, Alice, I am thinking about you with my whole heart… I brewed a pot of tea, selected my favorite little floral teacup and saucer and put some quiet music on to help me write this post. So many memories are running through my mind. It truly feels like you are right here with me. I know you are. There were tears in my eyes as I wrote this entire blog post, but they flowed uncontrollably as I attempted to type that last paragraph… I still miss you so much. I always will. I realize, however, that I am so very, very lucky to have been blessed with such love. “Missing someone isn’t about how long it’s been since you’ve seen them or the amount of time since you’ve talked. It’s about that very moment when you’re doing something and wishing they were right there with you.” Oh, Alice; If only heaven weren’t so far away…. Happy Birthday, my dear friend.
We are the “bookends” in our family; Michael and I. I’m the oldest of seven at 51… Mike’s the youngest at 27. Michael was born about a year after I got married. I grew up in St. Louis, but had moved to Kansas City after college, so the two of us never actually had a chance to “grow up together”. But there is now good news. Really good news for me. My mom, dad and Michael are moving to Kansas City. To say that I am excited does not even begin to touch the surface of what I am feeling. Just typing that fills my eyes with tears. There is just so much time to make up for… andI absolutely cannot wait!!!
Poem: “Welcome to Holland” by Emily Perl Kingsley
November 12, 2008
I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability – to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It’s like this…
When you’re going to have a baby, it’s like planning a fabulous vacation trip – to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It’s all very exciting.
After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, “Welcome To Holland”.
“Holland?!?” you say, “What do you mean “Holland”??? I signed up for Italy! I’m supposed to be in Italy. All my life I’ve dreamed of going to Italy”
But there’s been a change in the flight plan. They’ve landed in Holland and there you must stay.
The important thing is that they haven’t taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It’s just a different place.
So you must go and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.
It’s just a different place. It’s slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you’ve been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around…and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills…Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.
But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy…and they’re all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say“Yes that’s where I was supposed to go. That’s what I had planned”.
And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away…because the loss of that dream is a very significant loss.
But…if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn’t get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things…about Holland.
And so Mom, Dad and Michael; we are all moving on to a fresh new chapter. Your big move to Kansas City. It may not be Italy, or even Holland; but I can tell you it’s gonna be great. Because I love you, and that’s enough. And so a song for you, “Mike the Singer”… from someone who loves you very, very much. xo
My face may be different But my feelings the same I laugh and I cry And I take pride in my gains I was sent here among you To teach you to love As God in the heavens Looks down from above To Him I’m no different His love knows no bounds It’s those here among you In cities and towns That judge me by standards That man has imparted But this family I’ve chosen Will help me get started For I’m one of the children So special and few That came here to learn The same lessons as you That love is acceptance It must come from the heart We all have the same purpose Though not the same start The Lord gave me life To live and embrace And I’ll do it as you do But at my own pace
As you know, I am kinda sorta playing “catch up” with my blog posts after my computer crashed… So today I am sharing with you a few images of my Valentine’s Day 2013. Morning began with a “Valentine Breakfast” for my two boys, complete with heart shaped pancakes, chicken apple sausage and sauteed apples with maple syrup. One of these “boys” I shared a first date with on Valentine’s Day 1980 (Yep. Do the math. That’s 33 years ago!!) and one I shared my big ‘ole belly with, along with his twin sister, some twenty-something years ago. Both of them loved and treasured… xo Each one of my boys surprised me when they came home from work with a beautiful bunch of flowers. Pink roses from my sweetie, and a beautiful “springlike” assortment from my (6’1″) “baby”. I’m such a lucky, lucky girl…
And speaking of lucky girls; a little story. I was really, really missing mybaby girl all day (my college baby girl!!). All day long treasured memories of Valentine’s Days when my kids were little played out in my head, and my heart, like the poignant video of a mom’s soul… My heart ached to return, just for a moment, to days gone by… Five short minutes after returning home from a final run to the grocery store for dindin, I heard the doorbell ring. I opened the door to find these two precious smiling faces… little “buddies” of mine. And even better – They had cupcakes. Yummy, yummy pink frosted and (lovingly) hand-decorated cupcakes. Yes indeed. I am one lucky, lucky girl…
We ended the day with a dinner at home, and I have to say it was a big hit with both of “the boys” – so I thought that I would share! On the menu…Roasted Asparagus with Prosciutto (http://www.fortheloveofcooking.net/2010/02/roasted-asparagus-with-prosciutto.html), Mustard Beef Tenderloin (http://bbq.about.com/od/steakrecipes/r/bl70628c.htm) and “Salt & Vinegar” Roasted Potatoes (Basically, Oven roast your potatoes with olive oil, sea salt & pepper until golden & crispy; then toss with malt vinegar & serve immediately). The mustard sauce for the beef pairs nicely with the asparagus & the potatoes as well!! A yummy dinner. A yummy day.
“There is only one happiness in life; to love and be loved.” – George Sand
Just look at their faces… That, my friends, is love. True love. This beautiful pic and story are originally from a wonderful blog… Bella Camila. (Thank you, Camila) Please check it out! And another big thank you to “Tyler Knott Gregson” for his touching words, as well. A guy named Tyler is just gonna write things like that. I know this from experience… trust me. Yes – for me, love began in 2nd grade. He was my first boyfriend. Tyler Ledford. Looked kinda like that cute little guy in the pic above, actually. No, Dad. That’s not me. We didn’t kiss. He did, however, try to put his arm around me when we were watching a movie in class. No worries, tho. The teacher put an end to that – Ha!
wink, wink to you, Tyler. Wherever you are. I hope you are as happy (in love) as I am…
It was a busy morning, about 8:30, when an elderly gentleman in his 80′s arrived at the hospital to have stitches removed from his thumb. He said he was in a hurry as he had an appointment at 9:00 am. The nurse took his vital signs and had him take a seat, knowing it would be over an hour before someone would to able to see him. I saw him looking at his watch and decided, since I was not busy with another patient, I would evaluate his wound. On exam, it was well healed, so I talked to one of the doctors, got the needed supplies to remove his sutures and redress his wound.
While taking care of his wound, I asked him if he had another doctor’s appointment this morning, as he was in such a hurry. The gentleman told me no, that he needed to go to the nursing home to eat breakfast with his wife. I inquired as to her health.
He told me that she had been there for a while and that she was a victim of Alzheimer’s Disease. As we talked, I asked if she would be upset if he was a bit late.
He replied that she no longer knew who he was, that she had not recognized him in five years now. I was surprised, and asked him, ‘And you still go every morning, even though she doesn’t know who you are?’
He smiled As he patted my hand and said, ‘She doesn’t know me, but I still know who she is.’
Today is Tuesday, and Tuesday is “trash day” at our house. In our home, this is a day of scheduled acts of kindness… vs. “random”. I have a story to share, but I have to admit that I was torn about whether to “put it out there”… or not. I am a HUGE believer in “Acts of Kindness” that come from the heart in a spirit of love and generosity. Not attention or recognition. When I came across this quote (below), I knew that sharing my story was the way to go. I realized that in the sharing of these “good deeds” – we are really sharing the “spirit” of these deeds, therefore making them contagious.
“A single act of kindness throws out roots in all directions, and the roots spring up and make new trees. The greatest work that kindness does to others is that it makes them kind themselves.”
~Amelia Earhart
It all started about 20 years ago. My twins were very young and absolutely fascinated with watching the trashmen in their big trucks. They would wait for trash day every single week, and then they would pull up their “Little Tikes” chairs to their second story bedroom window and wait… and wait… and wait… for the trashmen to arrive. I cannot honestly tell you how the conversation originally began, but suffice it to say that we decided that the trashmen were probably quite thirsty in the middle of their long, hard day. So we started taking cold sodas out to them when they would arrive. Every week. The problem would arise, however, if we were not there at the moment that they arrived. So we started a new plan. We bought a little cooler that was big enough to hold a few sodas and an ice pack. If we were not going to be there, they knew that the cooler was for them. This soon stretched into winter, and we knew how cold the trashmen must be on their long winter days. So we started making hot chocolate and got a big thermos that we could fill in the morning. The kids would make little “goodie bags” for them at Christmas time with snacks, McDonald’s gift certificates and homemade cookies. This whole idea blossomed into taking sodas on a hot summer day to anyone who looked thirsty… even if it was roofers working on a house three doors down! They had internalized this spirit of kindness and were thinking kind thoughts – independent of their mom – with their own little hearts. Wow.
Fast forward twenty years. Our kids are away at college, and their hearts will always be kind. Tuesday is still trash day… a scheduled act of kindness day that has been so richly rewarded through the years in hugs and smiles and gratitude. WE are blessed. Pass it on…
Who would have ever guessed that three little numbers would forever change the lives of a nation. Our nation. 9/11.
We all remember where we were on that fateful morning. It’s etched in our memories forever. The horrors of the day; the names, the faces, the stories…. They will all be relived today. We mourn as a nation. We pray for the lives of those whose hearts still ache for loved ones, lost forever.
Yes. There is evil in the world. But there is also good. And lots of it. I have this outlook on life that is kind of a “rock, paper, scissors” kind of thing. The way I see it, besides kind and evil, we also have the obstacle of indifference. As a nation, our problems are too overwhelming. It’s just too much. After all, we are just one person… Right? So what to do. Well, for me, it’s really all about me… You see, I feel that in this “rock, paper, scissors” game of life… good always wins over evil AND indifference. The problem is, it’s two against one! I can’t control the thoughts or actions of another human being – but I can control what I give to this world. I choose kindness. Honesty. Respect. Love. I vow to make a difference within this tiny little footprint that I have in this world, because it’s all that I have. And even though I cannot “control” other people; I most certainly can influence them through my own actions. After choosing the quote (above) to include in this post, I had to smile. It’s from Nike; a company that truly is all about “the game”. And in this particular quote it is “the game of life“, as well. As a nation, we will never be able to eliminate evil; nor indifference. But we do have that tiny footprint, and we can choose good. Every day. Kindness is contagious… Just do it!