Month: April 2019

And This is Eternity

I am at one of those particularly poignant, bittersweet times in parenthood. It is one of those times that almost every moment feels like an ending and a new beginning. My eldest son is now completely and totally independent of us, starting his new adult life, in his new state. My second son is almost halfway done with college. My youngest son starts college in the fall. My daughter just completed her first year of high school and is ready to practice driving.

The first couple of years of a child’s life feels like this – the feeling of constant endings and new beginnings. There are so many milestones that happen almost on a daily basis, it makes your head spin . . . and your heart overflow. Then there is this long period of late elementary/middle school years, where, as much as the changes are still happening in your family, they are not nearly as obvious and confronting, as times like these.

As we were driving home from my daughter’s high school tennis tournament yesterday, she and I were reflecting on her first year of high school and how well it went for her, despite the normal fears and hesitations that she felt at the beginning of the year. We laughed at how worried she was about making the tennis team and how now, it feels like “old hat”. High school, in itself, will be more of an “old hat” for her in the next three years before she departs for journeys further away from home.

My parenting style is doing a major shift right now, too. It is much more “hands off”, freeing of the reigns. I am much more of a sideline advocate and “wise” counsel (when sought) these days. I suppose my job is to worry less about their lives and to put the focus more on my own life now, so that they can worry less about me.

This passage is from a beautiful, enchanting old book by Gwen Frostic. The book, A Walk With Me, is printed by block carvings and it is as lovely to look at, as it is to read. Here it is:

The squirrels jump from limb to limb high in the trees that are ever the same . . . and . . . never the same . . . for each day . . . each hour . . . . all things change. . . . . .the trees . . . the flowers . . . rocks . . . .the sand and the waters . . . the birds and all the animals of earth . . . .

. . . .yet – life goes on unchanged . . . . . . . nothing is new

. . . . . . . nothing is old

this is life . . . . . . . .

and this is eternity . . . . . .

And Another Thing . . . .

Yesterday, I spent all day in a small town located over an hour away from our home, at a high school tennis tournament, with my daughter. We left our home at 6:45 a.m and we returned home, exhausted, sweaty and cranky, at about 6 p.m. My daughter played two matches. We spent all day in the sweltering Florida heat, cheering for her friends and team mates and waiting for her two turns to play. This isn’t anything new. I have four children who, among all of them, have played and/or participated in tennis, football, baseball, basketball, soccer, softball, robotics, academic teams, track, numerous clubs and honor societies, etc. etc. over the decades that we have spent raising them. The list of sports and activities goes on and on and on. This is nothing unusual. My friends with kids would have the same miles-long lists of activities that they have supported their kids with, throughout the years. These activities all take an inordinate amount of effort, time, money, emotion and sacrifice, from every single member of any family unit. There were many, many evenings and weekends that my husband and I barely saw each other, as we were really just ships passing in the night, going to support different ones of our children, at different events, which happened to fall around the same dates and times as each other. I’m not going to get into whether all of this focused, structured activity is/was really even good and/or necessary for children or for society, as a whole. That is a whole different retrospective argument/analysis for a whole different blog. What yesterday’s experience did, though, was got me to thinking about the whole college scandal thing again, and I felt angry, very angry, all over again.

Some of the children whose parents paid to “cheat” their childrens’ way into college acceptances, faked their kids being part of teams, crews – basically members of all of the types of activities that I listed above, and some. They made pretend photo-shopped pictures of their kids participating in events, like the tournament that my daughter and I spent all day yesterday at and also, will spend all day today attending and performing in. I wonder if any of their cars sported stickers like “Soccer Life” or “Proud Football Mom”, even though instead of waking up in the wee small hours of the morning to travel several hours away, paying for pricey travel expenses and accommodations, and spending countless time and emotional equity, consoling and hugging and cheering up a kid who has spent thousands of hours tirelessly working at and practicing a skill that means more to that child than playing video games or hanging out with their friends, these parents instead, decided that they could just cough up one big, fat check at the end, to make up for the fact that neither they nor their kids, really put in any of the time, effort and frankly, overall life force that participating in today’s kids’ sports and activities really require???? (okay, take a breath) The arrogance of these parents appalls me, again and again, in so many regards!!! Thank you for letting me rant. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a cooler to pack before we take off on our early morning journey to the second day of the tennis tournament and I have to fish a uniform out of the dryer before we leave and I have think of the right words to help calm my daughter’s nerves before we arrive for her playing time. These are all efforts that require sweat equity, courage and stretched heart strings, by all parties involved, and these are things that can’t possibly be duplicated by an expensive, fake photograph.

What Still Stands

My heart is breaking for the people of Paris, the French people, and all of us, really. How incredibly sad about the burning of the Notre Dame Cathedral! My husband and I were fortunate enough to tour the beautiful, awe-inspiring church not long ago, in the spring of 2018. It was absolutely amazing and breath-taking. Notre Dame Cathedral was one of those incredible architectural masterpieces that makes you so amazed and impressed by what we humans are able to create and to manifest, into this material world. What is even more amazing is that the church was created and brought into fruition over 800 years ago, long before the ages of modern technology and machinery. As painful of a loss, as this is, I have no doubts that the people of France will resurrect Notre Dame to its previous beauty and standing, and soon. Losses like this remind us that nothing is permanent in the material world. Everything is fleeting and yet the energy, the creativity, the vision, the teamwork and most importantly, the nurturance and love that makes it possible for monuments of this beauty and magnitude to even be conjured and built, is what remains forever in the hearts and in the imaginations of our human race. These internal drives, propelling us to express ourselves outwardly in the forms of astonishingly amazing material creations, is the part of life that is truly permanent and monumental and these drives will always exist until we humans cease to exist any longer.

“Love knows no limit to its endurance, no end to its trust, no fading of its hope; it can outlast anything. Love still stands when all else has fallen.” – ComfortingQuotes.com

Happy Reunion

Watching Game of Thrones last night was like going to a big, happy reunion, getting reacquainted with a bunch of people from your past. (In the case of Game of Thrones, there was also a major feeling of relief – oh, yay, Jorah, Theon, Gendry – that’s right! You are still alive! Hooray!) Reunions, when you haven’t seen familiar people in a long, long time, are always joyful. You find that you are even happy to see the “less than savory” characters, because of the familiarity of your shared history. There’s been enough time and distance to soften the level of annoyance that person brought to your life and if you are honest, the annoyance that you may have brought to their life, as well.

Our two youngest children sat down with us to watch the start of the final season of Game of Thrones. They are not the GOT addicts that their parents are, so they had only seen a sprinkling of episodes. Other than what they heard anecdotally from us and their friends, they had no idea what was going on.

“You can watch with us but you can’t talk and ask questions while the show is on. Understood?” was my very serious proclamation before the show began and while HBO was ceremoniously teasing us with a countdown to the beginning of the final season.

Of course, throughout the show, I made several lively comments, as I joyfully recounted the history of the various characters to my children. They looked at each other knowingly, but dutifully kept quiet throughout the viewing of the episode. I must have used the word “remember” 18,000 times to my husband, as an old familiar face would pop up on the screen and we would try to recount what had happened to that particular character throughout the history of the Game of Thrones TV extravaganza. My only disappointment was, just like the weekend, the show was over way, way too fast. I had to check the clock to really be sure that we got our full hour’s worth.

“I was eating in a Chinese restaurant downtown. There was a dish called Mother and Child Reunion. It’s chicken and eggs. And I said, “I gotta use that one.” – Paul Simon

“Every parting gives a foretaste of death, every reunion a hint of the resurrection.” – Arthur Schopenhauer

Winter Is Coming

I slept in big time this morning. I need my energy for the “Big Night” tonight. The final season of Game of Thrones is tonight and I am giddy! The anticipation and lessons in patience have been excruciating. This has been a weekend of miserable chores like spreading mulch, deciding on paint colors for bathrooms, and finalizing our tax return. Painful! But the prize at the end has made it all worth slogging through. The final season of Game of Thrones has been long in coming, but the wait will be worth it, I am sure. It is almost bittersweet, knowing that these are the last six episodes. I can’t wait to see it, but at the same time, I don’t want it to come to an end. Here are some memorable quotes from the show:

“Never forget what you are. The rest of the world will not. Wear it like armour, and it can never be used to hurt you.” — Tyrion

“Power resides where men believe it resides. It’s a trick; a shadow on the wall.” — Varys

“Any man who must say ‘I am the King’ is no true King.” — Tywin

“Chaos isn’t a pit. Chaos is a ladder.” — Littlefinger

“The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword.” — Ned Stark

WINTER IS COMING!!!!! Enjoy!!!!

I Have Sisters . . . .

The above was posted on Think Smarter (Twitter) this morning. It warmed my heart. I’ve always told my husband and my sons that how they treat our daughter/their sister, is how she will expect to be treated by men, the rest of her life. They have taken that credo very seriously and have always treated her with the utmost love and respect. I sure hope that they extend that graciousness to all of the women in their lives.

There is a lot of good in this world. It’s really nice when the good is shared.

What the Friday?!?

Image result for hilarious quotes about Friday

Welcome to Favorite Things Friday!!! Every Friday, here at Adulting Second Half, we keep it frivolous! There is no seriousness on Friday, unless you take your consumerism very seriously. On Friday, I list three favorite items, websites, videos, songs, etc. that I find interesting and I always encourage comments from my readers letting us know about a few more favorites, you would recommend. Don’t be shy, guys!! New readers, please check out previous Friday posts for other good ideas to make you life just a little more peachy!

Here goes:

Dog Tags at Growlees.com – Our house is having some renovations done, so my front door has become a revolving door for all different craftsmen and construction workers. I have seen more pictures and heard more stories about their dogs than I have in a long time, as they kindly pet my pestering pooches. People love their dogs! We have two dogs and I am hoping that my pups lose their tags soon, so I can buy them new ones at this site. These tags are hilarious and there is a myriad to chose from. Some of the sayings printed on them are these: “I Eat Homework”, “Rub My Belly For Luck”, “Attention Seeker” (that tag would be good for a few people I know 😉 ), “Foodie”, “Have Your People Call My People”, etc. Even if you don’t have a dog, go to the website and check them out for a few Friday giggles.

OxyLED Motion Sensor Rechargeable Wardrobe Lights – I love jewelry and accessories and I have a lot of baubles. We have had closet organization companies coming out to give us quotes, and one woman who came out, even suggested that how I keep my necklaces lined up, hanging on the fronts of wire shelves, is kind of “hokey.” Well, hokey works for me and I’ve decided to convert a small, linen closet into my own hokey haven, for all my accessories. These lights that I purchased on Amazon are rechargeable, come with a magnetic strip to hang them on and have motion detectors, so they’ll only turn on when I open up my “hokey pokey” jewelry closet.

Rebecca Minkoff Key Chains – For years and years, I was one of “those people” who always loses their keys. I had to come up with a system to help me stop wasting my time looking for keys. (on an aside, true confession – I have looked for “lost” glasses that were sitting on my head and looked for my “lost” phone, while having a conversation on it. No horse pucky.) So, now, I always, always put my keys on designated hooks right by our garage and I always purchase giant, obnoxious (yet, adorable) key chains. My Rebecca Minkoff key chain has a little leather doll wearing cute sunglasses on it, plus a big, bright pink leather tassel on it, both being over 4 inches tall. I never have any problem finding my keys in my purse anymore, thanks to my colossal-sized key chains. I highly recommend my system, to any friends out there who are kind of absent-minded, like me.

Have a great weekend, friends. I’m ending with a note that I’m sending to Monday:

The Lens of Love

I’m about to write a post that is touchy and that might get me some flack, but I’m going to write it and I welcome any comments and insights. Last night, I rented a movie called If Beale Street Could Talk. Although the movies is based on a story by James Baldwin, it was written and directed by Barry Jenkins, the same writer and director of Moonlight. I didn’t like the movie. I found it slow moving and I found it hard to connect emotionally with the characters. I found the characters to be extreme, unbalanced, unrealistic and less than believable. But here’s the rub, I went into watching the movie, really wanting to like it. Why? Honestly, because I am a white woman and the movie is played by a mostly black cast. The movie depicts the unfair treatment one man faced when being wrongly accused of a crime, due to the vengeance of a racist police officer. The movie takes place in a city neighborhood mostly inhabited by black people.

I don’t believe that I am racist. Everything in my heart, soul and mind knows that racism is wrong. So, I have to ask myself, is it racist to want to like a movie, before even seeing it, because it is telling the story of the struggles many African-Americans face (struggles, that as a white woman who has always lived in upper-middle-class, mostly white neighborhoods can’t even begin to understand)? I don’t go into movies with mostly white casts, thinking, “I really hope that I like this movie.” I either like the movie or I don’t. But even at this point, I struggle to admit that I didn’t like If Beale Street Could Talk. I feel like I should like the film. I feel like by admitting that I didn’t like it, that I am perhaps not cultured enough to truly understand the greatness of the film. I feel like I am thinking way too much about this one movie. And all of the above statements, make me question my own personal views. If I am truly not racist, than every movie I watch would be judged the same way. I shouldn’t give any more thought to one movie or another. I either like the movie, I don’t – end of story.

I have these same struggles with my views on sexism. I am woman, for goodness sake! Of course I am not sexist! So why is it that I feel guilty about our choice of companies for our renovation project? We had three sales people give us quotes. Two of the sales people were women, and one was a man. We went with the man’s company. I am a woman who wants to support other women, but we honestly liked what the man’s company offered and designed, versus what the women’s companies offered. If I were truly not a sexist person, though, this thought wouldn’t even cross my mind, correct? If there is no sexism involved, whoever’s offer is best is what you go with, right? My husband and I both felt most comfortable with the man and his company. Did my husband relate more to the man? If he did, would that make him sexist?

I hope that my honesty hasn’t offended anyone. That is not my intention. I like to learn and grow and see things from all different perspectives. Perhaps the bigger issue here, is that I think and analyze just too damn much. I don’t know.

When my youngest son was a little boy and we lived in a different state, his best friend was black. His best friend’s parents were two older white people.

“Does J. ever talk about being adopted?” I asked him.

My son was aghast. His mouth dropped open. “J. is adopted?!?!” he asked.

My son then told his other friend in our car that J. was adopted.

His friend was aghast. “What?!? How do you know?!?”

“My mom told me,” my son said.

Maybe if we told our children less, we could be as wise as they are, without definitions, fears, intellectual arguments and smugness. Maybe we could learn again to just see the world through the unfiltered lens of childrens’ eyes. That lens is the only lens that matters – that lens is the lens of Love.

The Sound of Water

“Two waterfalls do not hear each other.” – u.fo Twitter

I don’t know what this says about me, but I had to look up the meaning of the above proverb, to be sure that I was understanding it. The proverb is saying that when two beings are being loud, endlessly making noise, there is no real communication happening. It is impossible to really “hear” and digest what is being said when everyone is talking at once.

My husband likes to hear our family’s chatter. Sometimes, I ask him why he is being so quiet and he says he just likes to “hear” our family. A couple of days ago, one of my meditations talked about how soothing the sound of water is to our hearts and souls. It’s so true. Think of all of the different sounds water makes. The trickle of a small fountain, the rush of the tide, rain hitting the roof, bubbly brooks flowing down a mountain, the filling of a bath tub with the anticipation of how good the water will feel against our skin are all the beautiful, unique nuances of the sound of water. The sound of water is incredibly therapeutic and available to all of us. If we just listen . . .

I guess the sound of water is like all things, best in moderation. The sound of two large, crashing waterfalls would become deafening after a while. But if we didn’t have all of the lovely sounds water makes, the silence could be deafening, too.

“The sound of water says what I think.” -Zhuangzi

“I first noticed how the sound of water is like the talk of human voices, and would sometimes wake in the night and listen, thinking that a crowd of people were coming through the woods.” – Freya Stark

Smack Dab in the Middle

We are at the halfway point of our home renovation project. We are at the crescendo point, where every bit of fatigue and frustration with the whole thing is meeting at a head and ready to explode. There is no turning back. You can only keep your eye on the prize – the end result. It’s like being halfway through earning an advanced degree or being halfway through a pregnancy. It’s like being a little over 13 miles on marathon day. It’s like Christmas break for seniors in high school. The end is not close enough in sight, for real hope or for that last, exciting burst of energy. But the beginning is far enough away, that there is no turning back.

Yesterday, the swirling ball of frustration and the “Will this ever end?” drama cloaked me in a gray cloud of doom. I feel sorry for anyone who had contact with me yesterday. Please accept my apologies. I am just getting a little tired of sharing a powder room with my daughter and having half of my bedroom being encased in a plastic tent. I keep peeking through the plastic, half expecting to see scientists working on E.T. or for Walter White from Breaking Bad to be cooking up some meth in what used to be my ridiculously ugly, yet intact and usable 1980s bathroom. But all I see now are bare naked walls and a project that feels like it is moving at a snail’s pace – a snail who is taking a nap.

I have been through long renovations before in other homes that we have owned. I thought that I had prepared myself and set my expectations correctly. But just like any long, arduous, expensive project one decides to partake on, you can never fully be prepared. It is best to just keep a stiff upper lip and carry out the old British adage, “Keep Calm and Carry On.” Of course, one of my favorite coffee cups has the American version of this adage printed on it: “Now Panic and Freak Out.” I’m an American.