Stories, reading, and my mom.

Posted by random olio

I never remember my mom reading books, and yet I think she would if she had the time. Often she worked all day, had a second job, helped us with our homework, made our meals, cleaned the house. As many moms out there know, it is a thankless job, and yet I never remember my mom complaining. She stayed up all hours of the night for months to make our Christmas presents so that we would have something to unwrap under the tree. I did not know that at the time, and yet thinking back on the gifts she made for us I know the countless hours it took for her to pull it all off. If she was purchasing the gift she would put it on layaway months and months in advance and diligently go and pay a little more each week until it was finally paid off. This was before she had a credit card so it was the only way she was ever able to get gifts under the tree.

She was the epitome of stretching things to make ends meet. While I never saw her reading books, I always saw her studying the Bible, our church books, and praying. She read those periodicals voraciously. She was adamant that we all read well and, while I do not remember when I started to read, I rarely got in trouble for staying up to read with the flashlight. She must have known that one day I would figure out that I could either get sleep and feel rested or not and pay for it the next day.

While I do not remember my mom pushing me to read, I think she gently encouraged reading and knew I escaped into a book often as a kid. My home life was not the greatest place, and somehow I would jump into the plot of a book, and I could transport myself into a whole different realm. We were her guinea pigs while she was getting her Masters degree in Education. We would read excerpts and have to answer questions and I absolutely HATED the reading comprehension tests she made us take for her classwork. I hated it just as much on the SATs. I like reading, but I hated regurgitating it later with a list of questions.

As I think about storytelling, reading, and the passion I have for stories, I have a smile on my face. My brother-in-law makes up stories for my 2 month old niece and I know that she will have the adventure of story in her life. While I will not make her take practice reading comprehension tests, I know she will carry on the tradition of voraciously reading, like her mom and my mom. Stories let us live an entirely different life, if even for just a few moments.

My mom was a badass. I only wish she knew it. Maybe she did, I will never know.

Happy Mother’s Day, Sis.

Posted by random olio

For many years after my mom was gone, my sister was like a mother to me. I loved and hated it about her. She is older, so it was natural for her to step in and be the older, wiser sister, and I often resisted it. We fought a lot, which often ended in tears. Yet we also laughed a lot, which also ended in tears. I did not want to be mothered, and yet we both in our own ways, wanted to be mothered. We wanted that connection of family. There were ebbs and flows of times when we yearned to have our own family. We always had different individuals in our lives that were an inspiration to us, maybe not mother types, but individuals (yes I did not say women, because mothering can come from a man too) who gave us the mothering that we needed.

Each year as Mother’s Day comes and goes I have to say it is a strange day for me. It has been 20 years since I saw my mom’s face, held her hand, or gave her a hug. I have lived more years of my life without her than I had with her. Some years are tougher than others. On years when my sister and I lived in the same city, we would often have a sister brunch on Mother’s Day. Other years, I just go about my day as though it is just any other Sunday in May.

This year, my sister became a mother. Sunday will be the first Mother’s Day for her as a mom. While Charlie is too young to dote on her mom, I hope my sister cherishes the day. I hope she remembers that while she has had extremely less sleep, and most likely not much of a life in the past few months, it has all been worth it. I know she will say it has been.

Love the hell out of that precious little baby. Enjoy every moment as a mom. I only wish our mom could be with you on your first Mother’s Day, she would love the crap out of, lil Charlie.

Happy Mother’s Day, Sis.

Staying True to Yourself

Posted by random olio

Fitting in or not. It is a fact of life. Sometimes we do and sometimes we don’t. What matters most is what we do when that happens. Do we try to change ourselves to fit in, or do we stay true to ourselves and not let who we are go even if it means not fitting in?

You would think that it only happens in school. Right? No, it is part of the world we live in, whether we are in school, at work, with friends, and sometimes even in our families. I definitely struggled at different points in school with fitting in. First, there is the question, do I even like the “cool” kids? Do I want to hang out with them, or are they annoying, mean, you fill in the blank. If there is a desire to hang with those so-called unattainable kids, then maybe you want to solve the magic 8 ball to find out how you can hang with them. You might find though that it is not always what it is cracked up to be.

It happens from toddlers to an old folks home, fitting in is just a fact of life. We all create tribes and cliques. We all have preferences and choices of who joins us. Yet, through it all, the most genuine way to fit in is to be yourself. I can remember countless times in my life when I never really felt I fit in. When I was younger and my mom was sick, my life was different, and it made it hard to relate to my peers. In high school when my mom died, I was back at boarding school within a week, and it made it hard to process and who I wanted in my life at that time.

Eventually something happens in your life and you learn that you just have to stick to who you are, regardless of whether others do not like you for who that is. It was in college when I finally said: “I don’t give a shit what others think. I am going to be me, and if others like that person, great, and if they don’t that is fine too.” We just have to stay true to ourselves, and let the rest happen. Otherwise if we divert from ourselves, it will take us that much longer to find our way home.

That deep emotion that brings tears to your eyes

Posted by random olio

We all feel it. You know those times when the emotion of the moment, the song, the words that someone says to you that hits your heart, and the water flows so quickly from your eyes. You try, yes, you try so hard to hold it back, your face puckers a bit and eventually the tear slides down your face. Emotion has hit you, sometimes when you least expect it.

Yes, this video has been going around Facebook and the Internet in the past week, but I could not help but share it just in case you have not seen it. I have never seen this type of emotion from someone so young (10 months old). It is as though this baby can feel and understand the music. It brought tears to my eyes. Not the music, or the words, just watching the feeling and depth of this baby’s reaction. It is truly priceless.

Have you ever seen anything like it? Do you think this baby understands music in a way that many cannot comprehend?

#amazing #happyfriday

Seeing the good

Posted by random olio

A good friend shared this blog from “Hands Free Mama” on Facebook and I had to share. While it is written through the eyes of a mom about her daughter, I think the ideas can apply to anyone. A boss and employee, a colleague, a friend.

Her report card says: “Distracted in large groups.” Yet her mother sees how she notices everything about the world around her. “That man is texting and driving.” “Grandpa is slower than the rest of us. We should wait.” The mother realizes how aware her daughter is, how perceptive and observant she is. Her daughter asks what is on her report card, and the mother is honest. The daughter says: “Oh, I do look around a lot.” And, rather than make her daughter feel bad for her this report card, she says: “Yes, you noticed Carter sitting off by himself with a skinned knee on the field trip, and you comforted him.” (and a few other things.)

Please read the rest of her blog post. You might have a pool of tears in your eyes, because this mom gave her daughter a gift. A gift of seeing her daughter clearly, and not just what was printed on paper. She helped her to see how aware she was about the world around her. And, you are in for a surprise at the end. The haircut comment was just over the top for me. It made me hope that my future son or daughter was just as perceptive, and aware. I loved this thought too:

“Oh dear God. Yes. Yes. We are all just waiting for someone to notice–notice our pain, notice our scars, notice our fear, notice our joy, notice our triumphs, notice our courage. And the one who notices is a rare and beautiful gift.”

Do you notice that about your friends, co-workers, family? Have you given them a gift to notice what they are hiding, and what they are hoping you will find out about them? At the end of each day, all we ever want is to be loved. Can you take a step away from being cool, from being seen to seeing others, to making others feel cool, needed, wanted, and loved?

Try it.