What have I Got to be Thankful for?

This year has brought many challenges and struggles. If you keep up with this blog, you know that we sold my mother's house after 30 years of living, a task that would make anyone want to pull their hair out, but along with that, I was also having to move as I lived with her. Finding the right place at an affordable price so that my youngest daughter could remain at her current high school was not easy. We found out in May that although my oldest was accepted into a very prestigious University's BFA program for Theatre, she would not be able to attend because something that I thought was a benefit at my current job, tuition exchange, was not a given, and the tuition was just too high without it. My little family of 3 is feeling the pinch just like everyone else in this economy of ever climbing prices weighed against stagnant income. WOW! Painting a pretty pathetic picture, huh? What have I got to be thankful for?............A LOT! First, let's address the issue of my mother's house. In this TERRIBLE market, the house sold in less than 3 months. With the help of a wonderful real estate agent, Barbara P. Bennett, we found a place for my girls and I to live in the right school district and it's a place I really love. When my oldest wasn't able to attend the University where she was accepted, she decided to take a gap year, and I have had the wonderful pleasure of having her home with me a little bit longer. She was able to get two jobs that she's perfect for and she enjoys. The economy? Well I don't really have encouraging news there, but in the times we have really been up against it financially, we have had someone there to help us. In three days we will celebrate the day set aside for giving thanks. I love this holiday, partly because it's not so rushed and jam packed with so many things to do or places to be. I am lucky enough to have 5 days off, and I spend them at home. No, I am not a BLACK Friday shopper. I wake up on Thursday morning and put my turkey in the oven, and spend the day making all my favorites that I grew up with and a few of my own too. I sample and enjoy the smells of turkey and dressing, and carrot cake as it bakes. I watch the parade and sit down with my favorite people and enjoy the meal I've cooked. No rushing, no craziness, just time to enjoy each other and all we have to be thankful for. Even with all the struggle, I am so blessed. I wouldn't trade my life for a struggle free one if it meant giving up the things that truly matter, the love of my children, the privilege that I have of watching them grow and share in their joys and sorrows, the fact that I am there for them, and they know it and rely on it, a wonderful church family that has been there for us in so many ways, family and friends that are encouraging and supportive. I could go on and on and on, but I won't. I do, however, encourage you to look at all there is around you to be thankful for and appreciate it not just on Thursday but every day of the year.

At What Price?

Unless you live under a rock, you have read or heard the horrible news surrounding Penn State and their football program. I read an article today, really an editorial, about how the writer felt about the actions of the coaches and administration concerning the rape and molestation of children at the hands of one of their own. The author took the approach of writing a manual of how to deal with this situation. At first glance, if the reader knew nothing of the scandal, they would think that the one who penned this piece was stating the obvious, common sense. Surely no one needs to have these steps written down to know to do them, and that was just the point. The "rules" of what to do when witnessing or being told of an act as unspeakable as this, a crime, certainly do not need to be in print for one to know what to do. Yet, not one, but several people, looked the other way. Oh, they did "enough" to ease their conscience. They all played "Pilate" in this scenario and their hands were clean. They did what they were supposed to do, so the abuser should have been arrested immediately, right? WRONG! He was not arrested, and the abuse continued with 14 other young boys. I'm sure you're thinking that can't be possible! How could he not be arrested? One reason, he was never reported to the police. This amazes me. Two different people witnessed firsthand what was going on, and not only did they not try to stop it right then, they did not call the police. In a comment listed in response to the editorial said something that haunted me, in regards to the boy who was victimized, "I wonder if he heard the door and thought he was saved, only to hear the door open and close again." Imagine if you were that boy. Why wasn't it stopped? Why wasn't something done? Only those men can answer to that. I can only speculate that it was out of  selfish fear of losing what was important to them, but at what price? Unfortunately much too high a price for 15 young boys.

48...gonna be great!!!

Yesterday, I turned 48. I am 2 years away from the big 50, but the funny thing is, I don't feel old. In fact, I feel better on this birthday than I have in years! I am happier, and one of the biggest reasons for that is I'm healthier. I am 45 lbs. lighter than I was on my last birthday, and I can't believe the difference in the way it makes me feel on a daily basis. My lighter self is not the only reason I feel like this birthday is the beginning of a wonderful journey. I have 2 of the most wonderful daughters that anyone could ever ask for. They love me, and I love them so very much. I am so blessed to have them in my life! I am living on my own in a house that's all my own to decorate as I please. I am also having an amazing time directing for the first time with a fabulous group of students at Tucker High School, my alma mater. It feels surreal to stand in that auditorium watching these high school students and their excitement as they create on the very same stage that I stood on 30 years ago. I am so proud and can't wait to see these young actors and actresses in the show on opening night! Something else has happened in the last week that is another step on my "new life, new me" journey. Those of you who know me, know that if I had my wish, I would be acting full time. I was bitten by the acting bug 38 years ago. Because of a whole set of circumstances, I have not been on the stage in a year and a half. It's like a piece of me goes missing the longer I go without doing a show. Back on October 1st I went to Barksdale and Theatre IV's open call for their entire season, but the show I was really interested in was "Always, Patsy Cline." This show drew my attention especially, for two reasons. One was the fact that it was being directed by someone that I admire greatly, Joe Pabst. Joe and I have worked together many times, and I really wanted the chance to work with him again. The second reason was that I would get to share the stage with a stellar actress and an awesome singer, Debra Wagoner. I got a callback two weeks ago, and last week I got a call offering me the part of "Louise" I am thrilled! I cannot wait to start rehearsing and to set foot on the stage again in such wonderful company! So...48? Old? Not a chance! I feel like my life is just beginning!

"In time we hate that which we often fear" ~ William Shakespeare

I remember as a child talking in my earliest classes about how boring life would be if we were all the same, that being different is what made the world an interesting place to be. For some reason that always brought an image to mind of this huge cookie cutter that cut as all from the same dough in the exact same shape. I can remember thinking, "How Boring!" I took away from that lesson that it's okay to be different, even preferred. My childhood classes would have taken place in the early 1970's, and at that time, I didn't even know what "being gay" meant except being "happy and gay" I'm not sure all of the people who were teaching me those lessons knew what "being gay" meant. It was certainly never discussed in my household. However, I chose to be involved in the theatre at the age of 10, and many people that I came in contact with were "gay" although I had no concept of that. They didn't hurt me. They didn't corrupt my mind with their "evil" ways. We were just in a show together and talked and laughed and played. Fast forward to my high school days. By this time, I knew what "gay" meant. It still didn't bother me. That was back in 1982. No one was really "out" at that time. I remember one of my dear friends who was a senior decided to be "out" It was a bold and courageous move on his part. I spent a great deal of time worrying about him, not because of what he was, but because of the way others might react. He made it out of high school unscathed, physically at least, but things could have been so much worse. Why? Because, unfortunately, there also exists something called "hate." I remember at the time that he was physically threatened by some players on the football team. They were going to beat him up because he was "different" Wait, what happened to that cookie cutter philosophy? Wasn't it good to be different? Not in those football players minds, but why so much animosity to the point of threatened violence? One word, FEAR! It amazes me that they were afraid of my gentle, sweet friend, but that fear of his difference is what drove their hate of him.
13 years ago on this very day, that same type of fear led two men to brutally torture a 22 year old gay man and leave him to die in the cold and biting wind of a remote area in Laramie, Wyoming. Matthew Shepard suffered a fate that night that I wouldn't wish on a wild animal, let alone a fellow human being. There was no motivation for their actions but hate. They weren't crazy or maniacal. They knew exactly what they were doing, and that, my friends, is the true horror of it all. Why can't we go back to that preschool and early childhood mentality? We can't all be, think, live the same. That makes life boring. Just because someone is different than you doesn't mean there difference will rub off on you. Difference is not a disease, but HATE is. Hate, when nurtured, spreads like wildfire. I don't know about you, but I'm ready for an end to this epidemic! Somebody posted the quote from Eminem on Facebook today in the picture above. It really is that simple.

A Chapter Closed

The closing for the sale of my childhood home since 1977 was slated for 3:00 today. Over the last 34 years. I have moved in and out of that house 5 times. I initially moved in back in 1977 in the summer of my 7th grade year. The house was big enough that my whole family lived there. My Mom and Dad, my sister and my maternal grandparents all in the same house. At that time Gayton Forest seemed like "the country." Truthfully, there wasn't much past that neighborhood but woods. If you know the Short Pump area at all now, that seems inconceivable. I spent my high school days in that house. So many firsts, first date, first dance, first high school party, and my first kiss in the front foyer. I got engaged in that house, lost my first baby to miscarriage and was elated when I found out that I was pregnant again, all in that house. It was a shelter in the time of storm when at 34 I found myself with no money, no job and no car after my husband of 15 years left and I had two tiny girls to raise alone. My parents opened up the basement apartment so that we were not left on the street. My girls spent most of their childhood there and they were incredibly fortunate to be able to spend so much time with both of their grandparents and their great grandmother all in that house. Birthdays, and Christmases, and Thanksgivings and Halloweens have been spent inside those walls. Today that chapter closes in my life and the house's life. Tomorrow a new family will start a new chapter in "my" house. I wish for them all the things that made that house a home to me.

Where does the time go?

19 years ago I was traveling early in the morning to St. Mary's hospital. I wasn't injured. I hadn't been in an accident. My first baby was 2 1/2 weeks past due, and I was going to be induced. I was bound and determined to have this baby naturally ( A.k.a. NO DRUGS) That was until I realized that being induced meant hard labor right away, no gradual ease into the major labor pains. I dealt with it the best I could for 7 hours, but then when I was told I wasn't progressing at all, natural childbirth went out the window. GIVE ME AN EPIDURAL!!!! Even after that, labor still went on for another 6 hours and I still didn't progress. On top of that, the labor was stressing my little baby, and the heart rate kept dropping. Induction was stopped, and I ended up having a C-section. We had decided we didn't want to know the sex of the baby. We wanted to be surprised, and I was sure I was having a boy. In the delivery room as I felt extreme pressure as the doctors pushed and prodded to get the baby out, I thought, what are they doing? The doctor kept saying, "He's a big one! He's a big one...whoops, she's a big one." At 8:16 PM my little baby girl was born. Healthy, 9 1/2 pounds and amazing.
Today she turns 19 and, thank God, she is still healthy, a little bigger than 9 1/2 pounds but more amazing than I ever could have imagined or wished she could be. She is talented, and beautiful, and caring and I couldn't ask for a better daughter if I had placed an order. She is a grown up, and it's hard for me to believe. It's also hard for me to let go, but I'm learning. She is my friend and many times in her 19 years she has been my savior. She believes in me, she encourages me and she never gives up on me. I am so blessed when many parents have either no relationship or worse yet a terrible relationship with their daughter, I have a friend. Happy birthday my sweet girl!

Not your normal Anniversary!

Today is a very special day. It is an anniversary, of sorts, but not the kind where you go out to dinner and celebrate and have cake and balloons. It is a somber occasion. Today marks 10 years since America was attacked by terrorists. Yes, I said attacked, right here on our soil, not some distant far off land that only exists on our television screens on CNN.  Why were we attacked? That's the funny thing. There is no reason. We did not provoke the attack in any way. We did not "start it" as a child might say after being confronted by a parent when asked why he hit his brother or sister. Were we at war? No. Was it some strategic military base that held secret weapons or plans and seen as a threat and therefore destroyed? No. The people attacked that day were ordinary, everyday, people just like you and me who were in the right place at the wrong time. They had started the day just like any other Tuesday by going to work or starting their shift of rescue or fire or police or boarding a plane for business or vacation, but oh how the day would end. Some of those people would survive and live to tell their amazing story. Most would not. There will be many posts today and articles and documentaries talking about 9/11 and what happened that day. I am going to choose to talk about two groups of people that, in the face of incredible danger, and without thought for their own selves did what had to be done. I am talking about the teams of firefighters, rescue and police and the passengers aboard United Flight 93.
1. The First Responders
No one was prepared for what would unfold when they got up that morning 10 years ago. None of us were. But when it did happen, these brave men and women rushed to do their job, and many lost their lives for it. This was not a routine, all in a days work call. Many of us were glued to the television in the safety of our homes, and thanking God that we were not anywhere near what was going on. Sitting there afraid of what would happen next when they were right in the middle of it saving lives and giving the help that was needed. Where would we have been without them? They are our heroes everyday, but this day they were superheroes. Sadly, unlike superheroes, they were not indestructible, and we lost so many. God bless them all!
2. The Passengers of United Flight 93
That Tuesday started out routine for them as well. They boarded a plane in Newark, NJ bound for San Francisco, CA. Maybe some were traveling for business as they had done a thousand times before. Perhaps some were headed to see the Golden Gate Bridge or Fisherman's Wharf on their first vacation to the west coast. It turned out to be the last time they would ever fly anywhere because 4 other people boarded that plane with them that had other things besides business trips and vacations on their minds. It is believed that those 4 men intended to hijack and fly the plane into the Capitol Building in Washington, DC. However, the passengers, in this age of technology, were able to call loved ones and others on the ground and were told of the horrors that had already taken place. They voted to rush the cockpit and make sure this suicide mission of evil would not succeed. Ordinary people stepped up and acted in an extraordinary manner, and again, became unlikely heroes. Not what they intended that day, to be sure, but nevertheless, their bravery kept at least one plane from reaching it's destination at the cost of their lives. God bless them all!
I hope that none of us will ever have to face such dangerous times again, but if we do, I hope that we will find in ourselves, somewhere the amazing courage all of them showed that day.