I live in Richmond, Virginia and the term “rush hour” traffic is not relevant to us like in other metropolitan areas such as DC, Atlanta and LA. If we get a ¼ mile back up we start to whine and cry. Traffic high points for us are from 7:00A to 8:30A and from 4:30P to 6:00P. Our two major corridors are I-95 and I-64 but 288 and 295 are quickly catching up. Hull Street, Midlothian Turnpike and West Broad Street are the major roads creating headaches of major proportions from the city to the suburbs. It takes ½ hour to move 5 miles down Hull Street during the “rush hour”. I call it the geriatric highway because you will inevitably get behind someone going slow when you are in a hurry. This happens on a daily basis.
I don’t take the highways or the toll roads to work to avoid traffic and accidents but it can take one geriatric driver to put my day into a tailspin. I know that God has a sense of humor and He flexes it in my life quite often in this arena. I can have the patience of Job one day but on others, blink and I’ll cut you off at the knees. So, given how late I try to sleep in and how quickly I can get out of the house I might get waylaid by the world of geriatric drivers and get to work feeling less than chipper and cheery and then its look out world. Seriously, I’m kidding. I wouldn’t take my traffic woes out on my colleagues but it does make for interesting conversations in my head all the while I’m smiling and inside I’m still seething about the fool that made me late or slowed down morning groove.
What really ticks me off is that I’m a good driver. A defensive driver and I go out of my way to stay away from the crazies but unfortunately I am outnumbered. They are talking on the phone, texting, eating or yes, ladies, putting on make-up. Now I am guilty of doing all of the above but not while driving, except the talking piece and I limit that or use the hands-free when possible. I put on my make-up when I am stopped at a light; texting is the same only when I am sitting still. Eating is limited when I’m driving so I don’t mess up my clothes but at the same time I can honestly say I am cognizant of what is going on around me. All around me; not just what is up ahead but beside and behind me as well. I’m not trying to get rear-ended by the fool too busy looking down to realize that I am sitting still at the light.
I drive in the right lane unless I need to pass someone and then of course I navigate my way to the passing lane and keep going. Once clear, I head back to the right. This is not the case with most drivers. They get in the lane and hog or should I say clog it up making it virtually impossible to maneuver around the geriatric drivers out there. It just doesn’t seem right to have cars in both lanes driving side by side with clear lanes in front of them and 2 miles of back up behind them because they are both meandering along oblivious to the fact that we are trying to get somewhere today, not next week. Now if road conditions or weather are a factor I totally understand but it could be a nice spring day and this happens.
And when it does I become like David Banner and turn into the Incredible Hulk. I huff, I puff, I scream, rant and rave (sometimes out loud, other times to myself) about the situation and then I hear it. This chuckling going on in my head because I know how irrational I am being and how much God must be getting a real kick out of slowing me down even if its just for a few short minutes because I won’t take the time myself and do it. It is during these moments when I am stuck behind someone that I actually pay attention to my surroundings and notice what changes are taking place in the neighborhoods I drive through on a daily basis and never seem to notice. Like the stores that have opened, closed, been repainted or repaired; the trees blooming, the blue sky and the feel of the sun and wind on my skin through the open sunroof. It is during these times that I speak to Him and say, “Hey you, I know what you’re doing and it’s working. Thanks for the reminder to slow down and check out the sights before they pass me by. Thanks for saving me from the truck that plowed through the red light at the intersection just ahead of me that could have been me if I hadn’t gotten caught behind a slow poke. I get it. Really I do, even if I’m not always appreciative at the time.”
And that makes my day a little better for that gift, that blessing until I jump in the car heading to my next destination and find myself caught behind…you guessed it, another slow poke.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Friday, April 16, 2010
Got Optimism? | The Augusta Chronicle#comment-763971
Got Optimism? The Augusta Chronicle#comment-763971
Great post about the lost art of optimism and how it can change our lives.
Great post about the lost art of optimism and how it can change our lives.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Spring
Spring has sprung. If you can’t tell it by the buds on the trees or the flowers blooming, then you definitely know it by the yellow/green dust that is everywhere. Allergy sufferers like I have started out the season in earnest with red, itchy, watery eyes, noses running for days and headaches of monumental proportions due to the reproductive season of the plant world. There have been a lot of things going on these past few weeks with the kids, work, and home. Some good, some ok and other’s frustrating but I know that it’s all a part of life and where we are in the journey right now.
We had spring break last week, which was nice for all of us. Good Friday came and I was off enjoying my time and contemplating all the spiritual aspects of that day and the two following it. Easter we had a wonderful church service, and then a cookout and Easter egg hunt with family. The girls had a wonderful time. We all did. The weather was great and it’s always good when you can come together and fellowship without all the drama that can come with family and friends. I took two days off in the middle of the week to spend with the girls and we hit the road. Virginia Beach was crowded but nice. The water was ice cold but the sun and sand were hot. It was hard to believe everyone was out in their bathing suits trying to catch a tan that early in the year yet alone venturing forth into the water. They played in the sand; we soaked up the rays and then went to visit my grandmother. Klutz that I am took a spill, flipped over a fence, bumped my head on a bench, scrapped up my arm on the sidewalk and bruised my ankle. It would have been a money winner on America’s Funniest Videos for sure. To make matters worse the girls stood around looking at me splayed out for the world to see without thinking to assist me. Finally one of them ran to get Tony so he could help me untangle myself from the broken fence and up on my feet. Thursday we vegged around the house, in the yard and about the area taking care of errands and such. Friday I escaped back to work to recoup for the weekend. Overall it was a great week but I was glad for Monday when life could get back to normal.
We’ll struggle to keep them focused for the last two months of school as they dream of shorts sleeves, tank tops, swimsuits, the beach, Busch Gardens and days when they can sleep however late they want and do nothing but nag us about how bored they are. I will work diligently to find ways to occupy their minds and keep them relatively active and learning for the 100+ days of boredom known as summer vacation. Whatever happened to the days when you could farm them off to the grandparents?
We had spring break last week, which was nice for all of us. Good Friday came and I was off enjoying my time and contemplating all the spiritual aspects of that day and the two following it. Easter we had a wonderful church service, and then a cookout and Easter egg hunt with family. The girls had a wonderful time. We all did. The weather was great and it’s always good when you can come together and fellowship without all the drama that can come with family and friends. I took two days off in the middle of the week to spend with the girls and we hit the road. Virginia Beach was crowded but nice. The water was ice cold but the sun and sand were hot. It was hard to believe everyone was out in their bathing suits trying to catch a tan that early in the year yet alone venturing forth into the water. They played in the sand; we soaked up the rays and then went to visit my grandmother. Klutz that I am took a spill, flipped over a fence, bumped my head on a bench, scrapped up my arm on the sidewalk and bruised my ankle. It would have been a money winner on America’s Funniest Videos for sure. To make matters worse the girls stood around looking at me splayed out for the world to see without thinking to assist me. Finally one of them ran to get Tony so he could help me untangle myself from the broken fence and up on my feet. Thursday we vegged around the house, in the yard and about the area taking care of errands and such. Friday I escaped back to work to recoup for the weekend. Overall it was a great week but I was glad for Monday when life could get back to normal.
We’ll struggle to keep them focused for the last two months of school as they dream of shorts sleeves, tank tops, swimsuits, the beach, Busch Gardens and days when they can sleep however late they want and do nothing but nag us about how bored they are. I will work diligently to find ways to occupy their minds and keep them relatively active and learning for the 100+ days of boredom known as summer vacation. Whatever happened to the days when you could farm them off to the grandparents?
Friday, March 5, 2010
FREE
I have had one of the best weeks of my life this week. The only way to describe it is FREE. The millstone that has weighed me down for my entire life has been cut from my neck. This whole week has been one filled with confirmation after confirmation from scriptures, music, devotionals and notes from friends and family. I am truly blessed to have such wonderful people in my life that care about me and support me, but my greatest blessings come from God, Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit. They have ministered to me this week through the Word in ways I never thought possible. It’s like the blinders were lifted and verses I’ve read time and time again now have new meaning. All those scriptures I have hidden up in my heart are being released unto me and giving me great hope, joy and understanding of everything that has transpired in my life.
I found this week, through my prayer and study time, that I have a great love for my mother; much deeper than I would have imagined. The love I have for her is the love of Christ, which is a love that releases her from the burden of fulfilling me in ways that she cannot. This is a love that transcends our fleshy selves but focuses on the spiritual being in each of us. It’s not about her approval, her love or her acceptance. It is a love for the woman that gave birth to me. Although there were times when I was ok with the thought of not being here, I am grateful for the life she gave me. It is the love that allows forgiveness for hurts real and imagined; for shortcomings and ignorance. It is a love that we should have for each other when we accept Christ into our lives and proclaim Him to be our Lord and Savior. The second greatest command that He gave us “…You shall love your neighbor as yourself…” Mark 12:31 (KJV)
This week I discovered that I am free to live my life and walk out the destiny God has for me instead of seeking for something I was never destined to find or have from the world. I now understand the scripture “But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you.” in Matthew 6:33 (KJV) in a way I couldn’t have before. I have been looking to my mother for her approval, her love and her acceptance when all along I should have been looking to God first. He will provide all those things to me: love, approval, acceptance and peace indescribable peace when I follow His Word. I have walked in this blessing all week.
One of my devotionals this week also reaffirmed to me that I have been putting too much emphasis on the relationship with my mother and helped me keep the focus on where my priorities should be. Mary Welchel of the Christian Working Woman had this life lesson in her transcripts for Wednesday at www.thechristianworkingwoman.org. I have highlighted the words that resounded in my ears as I heard it on the radio and leapt off the page as I read them.
Life Lesson #5: Don't take yourself so seriously. No one else does.
You know, I often remind myself that people aren't thinking about me nearly as much as I think they're thinking about me! Isn't it true that we often put ourselves under unnecessary stress by just taking ourselves too seriously! We worry about what others will think of us and that can become an obsession. What others think about you is not your business, so let it go!
Here's the secret: Make it your passion to care very much about what God thinks about you. Pray daily that God will grow you into the mature Christian he wants you to be. Let God's Word reveal areas in your life that need changing, and then by God's grace, work on them. Care very much about what God thinks about you.
But stop worrying about what others think about you. Stop imagining what they're thinking or saying. First of all, you'll never please everyone, no matter how hard you try. And secondly, have you ever thought about how wrong it is to care more about what other people think of you than you do about what God thinks about you? Remember, it's not all about you; it's all about God and what he wants to do with your life. So, don't take yourself so seriously.
Also this week I listened to my worship music and found great peace and solace at the words I heard from Kirk Franklin, CeCe Winans, Toby Mac, Mandisa, Marvin Sapp, Youth for Christ, J Moss, James Fortune & Fyre and many more.
The greatest joy came when I shouted the words to “Imagine Me” with Kirk Franklin, especially the chorus “Gone, gone, all gone, all my scars, pain; in the past. What your mother did, what your father did, gone, gone, all gone.” And it is… All gone. Everything that I held against her, all the hurt, all the pain, all the scars, gone. I am FREE.
Thank you Lord for I am free.
Free at last, free at last, Lord God Almighty, I am free at last!
I found this week, through my prayer and study time, that I have a great love for my mother; much deeper than I would have imagined. The love I have for her is the love of Christ, which is a love that releases her from the burden of fulfilling me in ways that she cannot. This is a love that transcends our fleshy selves but focuses on the spiritual being in each of us. It’s not about her approval, her love or her acceptance. It is a love for the woman that gave birth to me. Although there were times when I was ok with the thought of not being here, I am grateful for the life she gave me. It is the love that allows forgiveness for hurts real and imagined; for shortcomings and ignorance. It is a love that we should have for each other when we accept Christ into our lives and proclaim Him to be our Lord and Savior. The second greatest command that He gave us “…You shall love your neighbor as yourself…” Mark 12:31 (KJV)
This week I discovered that I am free to live my life and walk out the destiny God has for me instead of seeking for something I was never destined to find or have from the world. I now understand the scripture “But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you.” in Matthew 6:33 (KJV) in a way I couldn’t have before. I have been looking to my mother for her approval, her love and her acceptance when all along I should have been looking to God first. He will provide all those things to me: love, approval, acceptance and peace indescribable peace when I follow His Word. I have walked in this blessing all week.
One of my devotionals this week also reaffirmed to me that I have been putting too much emphasis on the relationship with my mother and helped me keep the focus on where my priorities should be. Mary Welchel of the Christian Working Woman had this life lesson in her transcripts for Wednesday at www.thechristianworkingwoman.org. I have highlighted the words that resounded in my ears as I heard it on the radio and leapt off the page as I read them.
Life Lesson #5: Don't take yourself so seriously. No one else does.
You know, I often remind myself that people aren't thinking about me nearly as much as I think they're thinking about me! Isn't it true that we often put ourselves under unnecessary stress by just taking ourselves too seriously! We worry about what others will think of us and that can become an obsession. What others think about you is not your business, so let it go!
Here's the secret: Make it your passion to care very much about what God thinks about you. Pray daily that God will grow you into the mature Christian he wants you to be. Let God's Word reveal areas in your life that need changing, and then by God's grace, work on them. Care very much about what God thinks about you.
But stop worrying about what others think about you. Stop imagining what they're thinking or saying. First of all, you'll never please everyone, no matter how hard you try. And secondly, have you ever thought about how wrong it is to care more about what other people think of you than you do about what God thinks about you? Remember, it's not all about you; it's all about God and what he wants to do with your life. So, don't take yourself so seriously.
Also this week I listened to my worship music and found great peace and solace at the words I heard from Kirk Franklin, CeCe Winans, Toby Mac, Mandisa, Marvin Sapp, Youth for Christ, J Moss, James Fortune & Fyre and many more.
The greatest joy came when I shouted the words to “Imagine Me” with Kirk Franklin, especially the chorus “Gone, gone, all gone, all my scars, pain; in the past. What your mother did, what your father did, gone, gone, all gone.” And it is… All gone. Everything that I held against her, all the hurt, all the pain, all the scars, gone. I am FREE.
Thank you Lord for I am free.
Free at last, free at last, Lord God Almighty, I am free at last!
Sunday, February 28, 2010
My Mother, My Self
I've always backed away when it comes to discussing my upbringing even at the behest of my many counselors who, over the years, felt I needed to purge things from my soul. But I think I've come to the point in my life when I have to make peace with myself and my life. This in no way covers my entire life but is a brief overview highlighting the things that resonate within me when I think about my relationship with my mother. This is for me because it will make me a better person if I'm not dragging around all this baggage whether my family agrees or not.
My first real memory of my mother is when I was 3 or 4 years old. She was making her bed and I was under it. At one point she stopped at which time I slid across the floor, came between her legs and looked up at her. She snatched me from under the bed and slapped me in my face and yelled at me. She thought I was trying to look up her housecoat. Never mind the fact that I'm a little girl, curious and inquisitive or the fact that I was just playing a game. That was irrelevant. The slap would remain ingrained in me for the remainder of my life and tell the tale of our journey. She has slapped me in my face time and time again since that first memory both literally and figuratively. Sometimes her words to me have hurt and lingered far longer than any slap could deliver physically and I can relay every single one of them to you. They resonate in my mind over and over again and even when they are not in the forefront, they are continuously playing in my subconscious like a broken record. Our relationship has been a tug of war. Me trying to be who I was created to be and her fighting me tooth and nail every step of the way. Stories from family members reaffirm to me that this fight of two wills transcended from my birth when she would spank me several times a night before I would succumb to her command to go to sleep.
As I got older and my needs increased I went through great lengths to get her attention but always seemed to fail unless it was to be disciplined. I was always getting into trouble even if I didn't do it. It seemed that she was destined to believe whatever was said about me because she didn't believe that I could be anything less than a thorn in her side.
I know that one could look at my life and say that it couldn't have been that way, that I imagined it. But no matter how much I pushed aside those feelings of inadequacy and inability to have my mother's love too often it was pointed out to me by others as someone else would try to compensate for the shortcomings they saw me get at my mother's hand. It was not a family secret, it was a family shame that people often tried to overlook or smooth over.
Please don't misunderstand me. My mother is a loving person. She loves my siblings, has great respect for them and has always treated them well. After all, they have lived up to her expectations and never walked against the grain. She is a good friend, a great wife to her husband and does great work for her community and church family but little of that love has trickled down to me.
I understand she had a hard life growing up and felt she missed out on a lot of things and spent a great deal of her life trying to obtain those things often at great sacrifice to others. I pray they have brought her happiness but in the process there was a lot of grief. I don't pretend to know all the details or have all the answers but I have my perspective. I have my memories, and I have my truth. The things that I saw happen for others but not for me.
I pretty much supported myself from the time I was 12. With my babysitting money I brought my clothes, school supplies, etc. I ran away from home figuratively every chance I got through babysitting for anyone and everyone that would have me. At 13 and 14 I was watching kids over night. I brought my own prom dress, my class ring, my senior pictures, invitations, cap and gown, etc., you get the picture. She was a very hands off parent when it came to me. My dad came down from NY to see me go to my prom while my mom went away with her boyfriend for the weekend.
She never even had the talk about sex with me. I found that to be very ignorant in light of the fact that my older sister got pregnant at the age of 15 and they didn't even know until she was 8 months. Suffice it to say, that I was very ignorant when it came to boys and pregnancy and found myself pregnant just before my 19th birthday. The really crazy thing is that I found out in the emergency room with my mother who took me there because I had been really sick for several days. At her command I had an abortion, after all she was my mother and I was in no position to argue with her. I had never disobeyed a direct request from her. I felt it was wrong and unfair because my sister didn't have to have one - again ignorant to the facts that given how far along she was it was impossible. What was really degrading and humiliating was she made me pay for it myself and refused to discuss or acknowledge what had transpired. Even though she dropped me off and picked me up. That was the beginning of a downward spiral into hell over the loss of my child, the disappointment I caused my mother (and don't think she didn't tell me about it) and the guilt of the act itself. Never before did I feel so worthless, unloved and alone. I went through a period of self-loathing that took me to the dark side of life. I went out trying to find love in all kinds of people and places. Participating in things that could have cost me my life on several different fronts trying to stop the hemorrhaging in my mind and soul over what had taken place.
The last physical beating came at age 18 when she took a branch from a tree in the front yard and beat me with it after I yelled at her for going back on her word about the car. She said I could use it and then decided that my brother could have it instead. Slighted again, I gave her an earful of what I thought. Never cursing her but certainly expressing my displeasure at being pushed aside yet again. I didn't even defend myself. I stood there and let her hit me with it until it broke to the point that she couldn't use it anymore. I had welts and cuts all over me but I refused to cry. When she was done my only comment to her was "Are you done?" and then I went upstairs and took a shower. I would not give her the satisfaction of shedding a tear. Shortly thereafter I moved out.
I gave her a great deal of disappointment in her life by choosing to walk to beat of a different drum. I could have been anything I wanted but the one thing I wanted was the last thing she wanted for her child. She felt it was a waste of my God-given talents. What she didn't realize is that because of our relationship that "thing" grew stronger and stronger in me until it was an obsession. All I wanted to be was a mother. The best mother in the world. I wanted to be better to my kids than she was to me. I wanted to be sure that they knew they were loved. I would be there in the afternoons when they came home from school. I would help them with their homework and share in their hopes, dreams and desires. I would not force my dreams on them. All I would want for my kids is for them to love God, respect me as their parent, get an education and make a positive contribution to society in whatever capacity that they wanted.
She on the other hand wanted us to be what she could not because she had children. She wanted me to be a big shot in corporate America. Travel the world and have all the things she did not. I didn't want that but as fate would have it I have had a pretty good career that has allowed me to support my family and travel all across the US and Europe. At times it even allowed me to be there for them in ways she was not. But the desire to be a mother has always overridden anything that would stand in my way to doing that including moving further up the corporate ladder.
She first disowned me when I was 21 and pregnant again. She wanted me to have another abortion. This time I chose life. She did not come to the hospital when he was born. In fact she didn't even acknowledge him. I would walk down the street to her house everyday and sit in the kitchen with him and she would ignore him. He was almost 2 months old before she would speak to him. Eventually she came around to accept him but not like her other grandchildren. When I needed to find a less expensive place to live she did allow me to move home for 30 days with the baby to save up enough money for a deposit on someplace. Eventually life caught up with me and I found myself living in the ghetto with a baby, no car, no savings, living pillar to post, starving and paranoid. I was robbed three times, worked two jobs, was raped twice and consequently I had a nervous breakdown, spent 30 days in rehab learning to accept my fate in life and my relationship with my mother. She never visited me in the ghetto and I lived there for three years nor did she visit me in rehab although I called and asked.
The second time she disowned me was 7 years later when I was pregnant with my second child. Again, this was a great disappointment to her especially since I was yet again a single parent. What would her friends think??? Who cares, it's my life, not yours. I did not come to her for assistance. Nor had I in the a long time. I had long ago figured out she would not help me. Heck, I had made it out of the ghetto without her assistance, was renting my own home and had a great job. I didn't come to her for anything at all but her love and acceptance but it was not there to be given. We went several months without talking but again she eventually came around. She did come to the hospital to see this grandchild after she was born. Maybe, just maybe, things would get better. They did not. We just learned to tolerate each other. Me lapping up every crumb of attention or kindness that came in my direction from her.
By the time my third child came I didn't tell her until I was 6 months pregnant, living in Virginia Beach and not in need of her approval, love or support. I was still in mourning because I had lost my best friend - my dad, and was resentful that she still lived. She was my only living parent so I had tried to move beyond our past relationship and make headway into a new beginning. She didn't say anything, finally accepting that it was my life and she couldn't change it. I figured that as she got older she was mellowing out. Wishful thinking on my part but nevertheless she was my mother and I accepted her no matter what.
Over the years we tolerated each other. She often found a way to make her opinions known and I learned to buffer myself so that they could not penetrate my heart. When I got married and took in the last three kids we were at an impasse. I was the faithful lapdog in the family. Always going to the meetings, extending the olive branch, putting me and my family out there, forcing a relationship with them, sometimes shamelessly. I felt like I was hooking myself for my family's acceptance. Even in the midst of my own personal hell I kept up the charade only to find myself hung out to dry when my world crumbled all around me to the echo of "I told you so's." "We knew something wasn't right." "You need to leave him." What I didn't expect was total abandonment, which is exactly what I got. At a time when I needed my family, namely my mom, I had no one. No one to hold me while I cried, help me through my pyschotic breakdown, depression, financial devastation once again or support me as I went through the court process, and the rebuilding of my life, except for God and a few very special people He strategically placed in my life at the right time.
Flash forward three years and here we are. Still at it, except we have come to the end of the road. I have to admit there is a mixed sense of relief underneath the unbelievable shock of her words. It is a blessed relief to know that all was not imagined. I am free. Free from longing, panting and constantly setting myself up for another smack down.
I love my mother, I love my siblings but I have never quite clicked with them and I'm finally ok with that. My dad and I, well that's how a parent/child relationship should be - unconditional love. My children and I, that's also what a true relationship should be. I err on the side of being too involved, loving them too much and wanting the best for them. I err on unconditional love. I love them because they are mine, all of them. Blessings from God sent to me for a short while to love, teach and inspire to be the best they can be. I don't always like them, what they do and how they do it but they have always had and will always have my love and support. They are not perfect. They have made a lot of mistakes and have regrets about choices they have made but through it all they have had me by their side every step of the way. I have not bailed them out but I have given them a hand up when needed. I've been their cheerleader, spiritual advisor, best friend and chief judge/jury and executioner if they did something I disagreed with or that went against my moral/spiritual standards but again they have never had to question my love or commitment to them or their lives. Mistakes? Sure, I've made a few but I've admitted them, apologized for them and learned from them as I'm sure I'll continue to.
I look forward to being a grandparent. I will be there for my grandchildren. I will love them just as I've loved their parents. I'll remember their birthdays, let them spend the night and take an interest in their lives. All of them, no matter what the circumstances of their birth may be. After all, who am I to judge?
My maternal extended family is a very spiritual family held together by the love of God and all things good and godly. My grandfather was the best, a baptist minister with a great love of God. He raised his children under that mantle and us as well. We have stuck together in thick and thin. I never imagined this would happen. I trust God works all things out for good but right now I feel that this division is necessary. I will be bowing out of our family functions for a while. It will give my mind and soul a chance to really heal. I will allow God to work on all of us.
What will be the outcome? I don't know and right now I'm not all that worried. I stand on the promises in God's word that "this too shall pass." My inspiration will come from the hymn that has always been dear to my heart, "It is Well With My Soul" because truly for the first time in a long time, It Is Well! Freedom does that.
My first real memory of my mother is when I was 3 or 4 years old. She was making her bed and I was under it. At one point she stopped at which time I slid across the floor, came between her legs and looked up at her. She snatched me from under the bed and slapped me in my face and yelled at me. She thought I was trying to look up her housecoat. Never mind the fact that I'm a little girl, curious and inquisitive or the fact that I was just playing a game. That was irrelevant. The slap would remain ingrained in me for the remainder of my life and tell the tale of our journey. She has slapped me in my face time and time again since that first memory both literally and figuratively. Sometimes her words to me have hurt and lingered far longer than any slap could deliver physically and I can relay every single one of them to you. They resonate in my mind over and over again and even when they are not in the forefront, they are continuously playing in my subconscious like a broken record. Our relationship has been a tug of war. Me trying to be who I was created to be and her fighting me tooth and nail every step of the way. Stories from family members reaffirm to me that this fight of two wills transcended from my birth when she would spank me several times a night before I would succumb to her command to go to sleep.
As I got older and my needs increased I went through great lengths to get her attention but always seemed to fail unless it was to be disciplined. I was always getting into trouble even if I didn't do it. It seemed that she was destined to believe whatever was said about me because she didn't believe that I could be anything less than a thorn in her side.
I know that one could look at my life and say that it couldn't have been that way, that I imagined it. But no matter how much I pushed aside those feelings of inadequacy and inability to have my mother's love too often it was pointed out to me by others as someone else would try to compensate for the shortcomings they saw me get at my mother's hand. It was not a family secret, it was a family shame that people often tried to overlook or smooth over.
Please don't misunderstand me. My mother is a loving person. She loves my siblings, has great respect for them and has always treated them well. After all, they have lived up to her expectations and never walked against the grain. She is a good friend, a great wife to her husband and does great work for her community and church family but little of that love has trickled down to me.
I understand she had a hard life growing up and felt she missed out on a lot of things and spent a great deal of her life trying to obtain those things often at great sacrifice to others. I pray they have brought her happiness but in the process there was a lot of grief. I don't pretend to know all the details or have all the answers but I have my perspective. I have my memories, and I have my truth. The things that I saw happen for others but not for me.
I pretty much supported myself from the time I was 12. With my babysitting money I brought my clothes, school supplies, etc. I ran away from home figuratively every chance I got through babysitting for anyone and everyone that would have me. At 13 and 14 I was watching kids over night. I brought my own prom dress, my class ring, my senior pictures, invitations, cap and gown, etc., you get the picture. She was a very hands off parent when it came to me. My dad came down from NY to see me go to my prom while my mom went away with her boyfriend for the weekend.
She never even had the talk about sex with me. I found that to be very ignorant in light of the fact that my older sister got pregnant at the age of 15 and they didn't even know until she was 8 months. Suffice it to say, that I was very ignorant when it came to boys and pregnancy and found myself pregnant just before my 19th birthday. The really crazy thing is that I found out in the emergency room with my mother who took me there because I had been really sick for several days. At her command I had an abortion, after all she was my mother and I was in no position to argue with her. I had never disobeyed a direct request from her. I felt it was wrong and unfair because my sister didn't have to have one - again ignorant to the facts that given how far along she was it was impossible. What was really degrading and humiliating was she made me pay for it myself and refused to discuss or acknowledge what had transpired. Even though she dropped me off and picked me up. That was the beginning of a downward spiral into hell over the loss of my child, the disappointment I caused my mother (and don't think she didn't tell me about it) and the guilt of the act itself. Never before did I feel so worthless, unloved and alone. I went through a period of self-loathing that took me to the dark side of life. I went out trying to find love in all kinds of people and places. Participating in things that could have cost me my life on several different fronts trying to stop the hemorrhaging in my mind and soul over what had taken place.
The last physical beating came at age 18 when she took a branch from a tree in the front yard and beat me with it after I yelled at her for going back on her word about the car. She said I could use it and then decided that my brother could have it instead. Slighted again, I gave her an earful of what I thought. Never cursing her but certainly expressing my displeasure at being pushed aside yet again. I didn't even defend myself. I stood there and let her hit me with it until it broke to the point that she couldn't use it anymore. I had welts and cuts all over me but I refused to cry. When she was done my only comment to her was "Are you done?" and then I went upstairs and took a shower. I would not give her the satisfaction of shedding a tear. Shortly thereafter I moved out.
I gave her a great deal of disappointment in her life by choosing to walk to beat of a different drum. I could have been anything I wanted but the one thing I wanted was the last thing she wanted for her child. She felt it was a waste of my God-given talents. What she didn't realize is that because of our relationship that "thing" grew stronger and stronger in me until it was an obsession. All I wanted to be was a mother. The best mother in the world. I wanted to be better to my kids than she was to me. I wanted to be sure that they knew they were loved. I would be there in the afternoons when they came home from school. I would help them with their homework and share in their hopes, dreams and desires. I would not force my dreams on them. All I would want for my kids is for them to love God, respect me as their parent, get an education and make a positive contribution to society in whatever capacity that they wanted.
She on the other hand wanted us to be what she could not because she had children. She wanted me to be a big shot in corporate America. Travel the world and have all the things she did not. I didn't want that but as fate would have it I have had a pretty good career that has allowed me to support my family and travel all across the US and Europe. At times it even allowed me to be there for them in ways she was not. But the desire to be a mother has always overridden anything that would stand in my way to doing that including moving further up the corporate ladder.
She first disowned me when I was 21 and pregnant again. She wanted me to have another abortion. This time I chose life. She did not come to the hospital when he was born. In fact she didn't even acknowledge him. I would walk down the street to her house everyday and sit in the kitchen with him and she would ignore him. He was almost 2 months old before she would speak to him. Eventually she came around to accept him but not like her other grandchildren. When I needed to find a less expensive place to live she did allow me to move home for 30 days with the baby to save up enough money for a deposit on someplace. Eventually life caught up with me and I found myself living in the ghetto with a baby, no car, no savings, living pillar to post, starving and paranoid. I was robbed three times, worked two jobs, was raped twice and consequently I had a nervous breakdown, spent 30 days in rehab learning to accept my fate in life and my relationship with my mother. She never visited me in the ghetto and I lived there for three years nor did she visit me in rehab although I called and asked.
The second time she disowned me was 7 years later when I was pregnant with my second child. Again, this was a great disappointment to her especially since I was yet again a single parent. What would her friends think??? Who cares, it's my life, not yours. I did not come to her for assistance. Nor had I in the a long time. I had long ago figured out she would not help me. Heck, I had made it out of the ghetto without her assistance, was renting my own home and had a great job. I didn't come to her for anything at all but her love and acceptance but it was not there to be given. We went several months without talking but again she eventually came around. She did come to the hospital to see this grandchild after she was born. Maybe, just maybe, things would get better. They did not. We just learned to tolerate each other. Me lapping up every crumb of attention or kindness that came in my direction from her.
By the time my third child came I didn't tell her until I was 6 months pregnant, living in Virginia Beach and not in need of her approval, love or support. I was still in mourning because I had lost my best friend - my dad, and was resentful that she still lived. She was my only living parent so I had tried to move beyond our past relationship and make headway into a new beginning. She didn't say anything, finally accepting that it was my life and she couldn't change it. I figured that as she got older she was mellowing out. Wishful thinking on my part but nevertheless she was my mother and I accepted her no matter what.
Over the years we tolerated each other. She often found a way to make her opinions known and I learned to buffer myself so that they could not penetrate my heart. When I got married and took in the last three kids we were at an impasse. I was the faithful lapdog in the family. Always going to the meetings, extending the olive branch, putting me and my family out there, forcing a relationship with them, sometimes shamelessly. I felt like I was hooking myself for my family's acceptance. Even in the midst of my own personal hell I kept up the charade only to find myself hung out to dry when my world crumbled all around me to the echo of "I told you so's." "We knew something wasn't right." "You need to leave him." What I didn't expect was total abandonment, which is exactly what I got. At a time when I needed my family, namely my mom, I had no one. No one to hold me while I cried, help me through my pyschotic breakdown, depression, financial devastation once again or support me as I went through the court process, and the rebuilding of my life, except for God and a few very special people He strategically placed in my life at the right time.
Flash forward three years and here we are. Still at it, except we have come to the end of the road. I have to admit there is a mixed sense of relief underneath the unbelievable shock of her words. It is a blessed relief to know that all was not imagined. I am free. Free from longing, panting and constantly setting myself up for another smack down.
I love my mother, I love my siblings but I have never quite clicked with them and I'm finally ok with that. My dad and I, well that's how a parent/child relationship should be - unconditional love. My children and I, that's also what a true relationship should be. I err on the side of being too involved, loving them too much and wanting the best for them. I err on unconditional love. I love them because they are mine, all of them. Blessings from God sent to me for a short while to love, teach and inspire to be the best they can be. I don't always like them, what they do and how they do it but they have always had and will always have my love and support. They are not perfect. They have made a lot of mistakes and have regrets about choices they have made but through it all they have had me by their side every step of the way. I have not bailed them out but I have given them a hand up when needed. I've been their cheerleader, spiritual advisor, best friend and chief judge/jury and executioner if they did something I disagreed with or that went against my moral/spiritual standards but again they have never had to question my love or commitment to them or their lives. Mistakes? Sure, I've made a few but I've admitted them, apologized for them and learned from them as I'm sure I'll continue to.
I look forward to being a grandparent. I will be there for my grandchildren. I will love them just as I've loved their parents. I'll remember their birthdays, let them spend the night and take an interest in their lives. All of them, no matter what the circumstances of their birth may be. After all, who am I to judge?
My maternal extended family is a very spiritual family held together by the love of God and all things good and godly. My grandfather was the best, a baptist minister with a great love of God. He raised his children under that mantle and us as well. We have stuck together in thick and thin. I never imagined this would happen. I trust God works all things out for good but right now I feel that this division is necessary. I will be bowing out of our family functions for a while. It will give my mind and soul a chance to really heal. I will allow God to work on all of us.
What will be the outcome? I don't know and right now I'm not all that worried. I stand on the promises in God's word that "this too shall pass." My inspiration will come from the hymn that has always been dear to my heart, "It is Well With My Soul" because truly for the first time in a long time, It Is Well! Freedom does that.
I Am a Motherless Child
All my life I have felt like this - a Motherless Child. I have spent countless hours in therapy and thousands of dollars trying to come to grips with this. Over the past few years, I even reconciled myself to this and accepted my mother for who she was instead of who I thought she should be to me. I had found peace through my relationship with God and friends who supported me through things in my life when I should have had the love and support of my mother but it was not to be found.
I even tried to convince myself that my thoughts about my life were wrong. That all those feelings of not ever being good enough, years of being considered the "black sheep" and all those sarcastic barbs and put downs were just my imagination. The notes over the years ignoring the real issues in my life but reassuring me that she was praying for me, when I didn't need prayers but love and financial assistance, would have been better served as kindling for my fireplace but kept them because it was a connection to her. I have every card, note, letter and newspaper clipping she sent me. I gloss right over the frilly Hallmark cards filled with words expressing love and caring because I never believed them and zero in on the ones telling me she could care less what is happening in my home because it's between God and I, but she is praying for me. The last one coming at a time when I didn't have a pot to piss in, was a broken down wreck because my ex-husband had physically, mentally and verbally abused me and our 10 children but she couldn't be bothered with the details of that. It would have meant getting involved, showing she cared and well I now know she didn't not then and especially not now.
Yesterday my greatest fear was exposed to me in such a way that there is nothing that can convince me that everything I felt my entire life wasn't the truth. Yesterday my mother disowned me in such a way that there is nothing she can say that will ever erase the words from my mind or make me believe anything other than my truth.
"You are the lowest of the low. If this is how you treat FAMILY then I want nothing to do with you. We have decided to change our will. We will split everything between your siblings and leave you $1.00. No one asked you to take those children. You should have let them go into foster care, gotten them to support those kids and so on."
Those words and the rest of what she said to me will forever be etched in my brain. I spent the entire day yesterday in a fog. My head throbbed, my stomach knotted and rolled. I didn't eat. I was a zombie. I talked to friends, I talked to God. I ranted and raved to my husband, who heard the entire conversation. I awoke this morning pretty much feeling the same way and then I went to church and cried my eyes out to God. The one who has been with me through everything and has kept me from going over the edge time and time again.
What did I do to cause her to react like this ? Nothing. That is nothing to her. Nothing that she should have even had a say in but then my mother is her own woman and she picks and chooses when to be involved in her children's, grandchildren's and great grandchildren's lives.
My nephew and his wife had three children in three years. I am raising all three of those children. I have custody of the oldest but adopted the other two after they came to me and asked me if I wanted them because they were going to give them away. No one else in the family stepped up or even offered assistance but I took them because they are my FAMILY. All three children have issues of some sort due to the fact that their parents abused drugs, alcohol and each other during each of the pregnancies and that behavior still continues. I have not received any support for the children from them. As I adopted the two younger ones that was not an expectation regarding them. But the first child, the one I have custody of, is a whole other story. He constantly reminds me that she is their child, loudly, verbally, with great force and unkind words. Yet he has done nothing to support her because he's in and out of rehab and jail. She has been diagnosed with separation anxiety and adolescent bipolar disorder. A hell of a combination. We have been in therapy and we have a lot on our plates in handling her but we have not complained or asked ANYONE including my MOTHER for assistance. She prefers not to be involved remember... We max out of the insurance coverage for her treatment which is out of network and 40% out of our pocket after we meet the family deductible of $2,000.00. She can get Medicaid to cover her treatment once we max out if we apply but one of our requirements was to apply for child support from her parents before Medicaid would consider her case. So I filed the paperwork and they were notified. With all that said, it wasn't about the money and I seriously doubt we will see it but it was a step I had to take to get our child, that I have had and raised since she was six weeks old (when they called me and asked me to come and get her from a hotel room they were living in), the help she needs without going bankrupt in the process. Apparently he has split once again from his wife and he ran crying to his mother (my sister) who in turn ran back to my mother with his story of the blues. No one called or asked me anything but obviously assumed what he said was the gospel truth and I'm sticking it to him as a money hungry person.
So you see, the kids that no one asked me to take - they are her great grandchildren whom she says should have gone into the foster care system so that the state could pay for them. They are her FAMILY that she referring to. When is it the state's responsibility to take care of family? Part of her words in her rant was that "family takes care of family and doesn't try to tear each other down." I guess there is a double standard there that doesn't include me and my FAMILY. We have always been treated differently and torn down by her and her actions toward us. I guess she just hasn't noticed or doesn't care. And if you don't believe me then keep reading.
My children have never spent a night with my mother. They have never spent a day with her when I haven't been around. She has never interacted with them just because they are her grandchildren and she wants to have a relationship with them. She doesn't send them birthday cards or birthday presents consistently I can count the number of times she's done so on one hand. She did do Christmas for them but last year decided that since my 16 year old hadn't bothered to call her that she didn't deserve a Christmas present. My mother comes to Richmond at least once a week, passes by my street and never stops by and never calls. I have been in my house for 6 years, she has been here 5 or 6 times which is about the number of times, if not more, that she's been to my sister's house but she's only lived there a year. My nephew's oldest child lives down by my mother. She spends the night, stays for weeks at a time, travels with my parents and gets the treatment from her grandparents that every child wishes for. My sister (the kids grandmother, my nephew's mother) lives 3 miles away from me. We might see her once a month, if we are lucky, but she goes to my mom's to see or get her other grandchild (mentioned above) and lets her spend the night, takes her to the beach, etc. all the time... My mother goes up to Maryland (4 hours away) to see my other sister on a regular basis. Spends time with the new grandchild and does everything a grandmother should do but what she NEVER did with my children. They even drive out to Michigan to spend time with my brother's kids but remember my kids live 45 minutes away. I don't suppose I'm imagining the slight, do you???
The sad thing is that my kids have always felt the slight and I have tried to buffer them from it. Over the years they constantly commented on how Nana treated everyone else different from them and how she treats me different from my siblings and I've always made excuses and tried to deflect them from that thinking and reassuring them of her love. How dumb is that? What a joke. What a lie. What a life. For what? To let it all end like this?
Yesterday I became a motherless child. Something I will make sure my children never experience whether I live to see them grown or not, they will know that I was and I will be with them (through memories and in their hearts) loving them and supporting them forever.
I even tried to convince myself that my thoughts about my life were wrong. That all those feelings of not ever being good enough, years of being considered the "black sheep" and all those sarcastic barbs and put downs were just my imagination. The notes over the years ignoring the real issues in my life but reassuring me that she was praying for me, when I didn't need prayers but love and financial assistance, would have been better served as kindling for my fireplace but kept them because it was a connection to her. I have every card, note, letter and newspaper clipping she sent me. I gloss right over the frilly Hallmark cards filled with words expressing love and caring because I never believed them and zero in on the ones telling me she could care less what is happening in my home because it's between God and I, but she is praying for me. The last one coming at a time when I didn't have a pot to piss in, was a broken down wreck because my ex-husband had physically, mentally and verbally abused me and our 10 children but she couldn't be bothered with the details of that. It would have meant getting involved, showing she cared and well I now know she didn't not then and especially not now.
Yesterday my greatest fear was exposed to me in such a way that there is nothing that can convince me that everything I felt my entire life wasn't the truth. Yesterday my mother disowned me in such a way that there is nothing she can say that will ever erase the words from my mind or make me believe anything other than my truth.
"You are the lowest of the low. If this is how you treat FAMILY then I want nothing to do with you. We have decided to change our will. We will split everything between your siblings and leave you $1.00. No one asked you to take those children. You should have let them go into foster care, gotten them to support those kids and so on."
Those words and the rest of what she said to me will forever be etched in my brain. I spent the entire day yesterday in a fog. My head throbbed, my stomach knotted and rolled. I didn't eat. I was a zombie. I talked to friends, I talked to God. I ranted and raved to my husband, who heard the entire conversation. I awoke this morning pretty much feeling the same way and then I went to church and cried my eyes out to God. The one who has been with me through everything and has kept me from going over the edge time and time again.
What did I do to cause her to react like this ? Nothing. That is nothing to her. Nothing that she should have even had a say in but then my mother is her own woman and she picks and chooses when to be involved in her children's, grandchildren's and great grandchildren's lives.
My nephew and his wife had three children in three years. I am raising all three of those children. I have custody of the oldest but adopted the other two after they came to me and asked me if I wanted them because they were going to give them away. No one else in the family stepped up or even offered assistance but I took them because they are my FAMILY. All three children have issues of some sort due to the fact that their parents abused drugs, alcohol and each other during each of the pregnancies and that behavior still continues. I have not received any support for the children from them. As I adopted the two younger ones that was not an expectation regarding them. But the first child, the one I have custody of, is a whole other story. He constantly reminds me that she is their child, loudly, verbally, with great force and unkind words. Yet he has done nothing to support her because he's in and out of rehab and jail. She has been diagnosed with separation anxiety and adolescent bipolar disorder. A hell of a combination. We have been in therapy and we have a lot on our plates in handling her but we have not complained or asked ANYONE including my MOTHER for assistance. She prefers not to be involved remember... We max out of the insurance coverage for her treatment which is out of network and 40% out of our pocket after we meet the family deductible of $2,000.00. She can get Medicaid to cover her treatment once we max out if we apply but one of our requirements was to apply for child support from her parents before Medicaid would consider her case. So I filed the paperwork and they were notified. With all that said, it wasn't about the money and I seriously doubt we will see it but it was a step I had to take to get our child, that I have had and raised since she was six weeks old (when they called me and asked me to come and get her from a hotel room they were living in), the help she needs without going bankrupt in the process. Apparently he has split once again from his wife and he ran crying to his mother (my sister) who in turn ran back to my mother with his story of the blues. No one called or asked me anything but obviously assumed what he said was the gospel truth and I'm sticking it to him as a money hungry person.
So you see, the kids that no one asked me to take - they are her great grandchildren whom she says should have gone into the foster care system so that the state could pay for them. They are her FAMILY that she referring to. When is it the state's responsibility to take care of family? Part of her words in her rant was that "family takes care of family and doesn't try to tear each other down." I guess there is a double standard there that doesn't include me and my FAMILY. We have always been treated differently and torn down by her and her actions toward us. I guess she just hasn't noticed or doesn't care. And if you don't believe me then keep reading.
My children have never spent a night with my mother. They have never spent a day with her when I haven't been around. She has never interacted with them just because they are her grandchildren and she wants to have a relationship with them. She doesn't send them birthday cards or birthday presents consistently I can count the number of times she's done so on one hand. She did do Christmas for them but last year decided that since my 16 year old hadn't bothered to call her that she didn't deserve a Christmas present. My mother comes to Richmond at least once a week, passes by my street and never stops by and never calls. I have been in my house for 6 years, she has been here 5 or 6 times which is about the number of times, if not more, that she's been to my sister's house but she's only lived there a year. My nephew's oldest child lives down by my mother. She spends the night, stays for weeks at a time, travels with my parents and gets the treatment from her grandparents that every child wishes for. My sister (the kids grandmother, my nephew's mother) lives 3 miles away from me. We might see her once a month, if we are lucky, but she goes to my mom's to see or get her other grandchild (mentioned above) and lets her spend the night, takes her to the beach, etc. all the time... My mother goes up to Maryland (4 hours away) to see my other sister on a regular basis. Spends time with the new grandchild and does everything a grandmother should do but what she NEVER did with my children. They even drive out to Michigan to spend time with my brother's kids but remember my kids live 45 minutes away. I don't suppose I'm imagining the slight, do you???
The sad thing is that my kids have always felt the slight and I have tried to buffer them from it. Over the years they constantly commented on how Nana treated everyone else different from them and how she treats me different from my siblings and I've always made excuses and tried to deflect them from that thinking and reassuring them of her love. How dumb is that? What a joke. What a lie. What a life. For what? To let it all end like this?
Yesterday I became a motherless child. Something I will make sure my children never experience whether I live to see them grown or not, they will know that I was and I will be with them (through memories and in their hearts) loving them and supporting them forever.
Friday, February 26, 2010
99 Things I Ought To Have Done
This was too cute not to do. It was a great way to see that I've done a lot more with my life than I originally thought.
Instructions: Copy the list, bold the ones you've done (with explanations if needed), share with friends.
1. Started your own blog
2. Slept under the stars
3. Played in a band
4. Visited Hawaii
5. Watched a meteor shower
6. Given more than you can afford to charity
7. Been to Disneyland (I drove up to the gates and took picture for my kids when I went to FL for business :-) Seriously, I have a great fear of going there. All those kids...
8. Climbed a mountain
9. Held a praying mantis
10. Sang a solo
11. Bungee jumped
12. Visited Paris
13. Watched a thunder and lightning storm (the first 21 years of my life I hid under my bed or in a closet, when I became a parent I "got over" my fear)
14. Taught yourself an art from scratch
15. Adopted a child
16. Had food poisoning
17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty
18. Grown your own vegetables
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France
20. Slept on an overnight train
21. Had a pillow fight
22. Hitch hiked
23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill
24. Built a snow fort
25. Held a lamb
26. Gone skinny dipping
27. Run a Marathon (I will run my first marathon on March 27, 2010)
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice
29. Seen a total eclipse
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset
31. Hit a home run
32. Been on a cruise
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person
34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors
35. Seen an Amish community
36. Taught yourself a new language (does pig-Latin count???)
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person
39. Gone rock climbing
40. Seen Michelangelo’s David
41. Sung karaoke
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt
43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant
44. Visited Africa
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight
46. Been transported in an ambulance (car accident 2007)
47. Had your portrait painted (if those caricatures count)
48. Gone deep sea fishing
49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person
50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris
51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling
52. Kissed in the rain
53. Played in the mud
54. Gone to a drive-in theater
55. Been in a movie
56. Visited the Great Wall of China
57. Started a business
58. Taken a martial arts class
59. Visited Russia
60. Served at a soup kitchen
61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies
62. Gone whale watching
63. Got flowers for no reason
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma
65. Gone sky diving
66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp
67. Bounced a check
68. Flown in a helicopter
69. Saved a favorite childhood toy
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial
71. Eaten caviar
72. Pieced a quilt
73. Stood in Times Square
74. Toured the Everglades
75. Been fired from a job
76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London
77. Broken a bone (my big toes will never be the same)
78. Been a passenger on a motorcycle (I used to consider this better than sex then I met my husband...)
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person
80. Published a book
81. Visited the Vatican
82. Bought a brand new car
83. Walked in Jerusalem
84. Had your picture in the newspaper
85. Kissed a stranger at midnight on New Year’s Eve
86. Visited the White House
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating
88. had chickenpox
89. Saved someone’s life (does it count if you were the one doing the killing but changed your mind???)
90. Sat on a jury
91. Met someone famous
92. Joined a book club
93. Got a tattoo
94. Had a baby
95. Seen the Alamo in person
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake
97. Been involved in a law suit
98. Owned a cell phone
99. Been stung by a bee
Instructions: Copy the list, bold the ones you've done (with explanations if needed), share with friends.
1. Started your own blog
2. Slept under the stars
3. Played in a band
4. Visited Hawaii
5. Watched a meteor shower
6. Given more than you can afford to charity
7. Been to Disneyland (I drove up to the gates and took picture for my kids when I went to FL for business :-) Seriously, I have a great fear of going there. All those kids...
8. Climbed a mountain
9. Held a praying mantis
10. Sang a solo
11. Bungee jumped
12. Visited Paris
13. Watched a thunder and lightning storm (the first 21 years of my life I hid under my bed or in a closet, when I became a parent I "got over" my fear)
14. Taught yourself an art from scratch
15. Adopted a child
16. Had food poisoning
17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty
18. Grown your own vegetables
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France
20. Slept on an overnight train
21. Had a pillow fight
22. Hitch hiked
23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill
24. Built a snow fort
25. Held a lamb
26. Gone skinny dipping
27. Run a Marathon (I will run my first marathon on March 27, 2010)
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice
29. Seen a total eclipse
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset
31. Hit a home run
32. Been on a cruise
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person
34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors
35. Seen an Amish community
36. Taught yourself a new language (does pig-Latin count???)
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person
39. Gone rock climbing
40. Seen Michelangelo’s David
41. Sung karaoke
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt
43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant
44. Visited Africa
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight
46. Been transported in an ambulance (car accident 2007)
47. Had your portrait painted (if those caricatures count)
48. Gone deep sea fishing
49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person
50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris
51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling
52. Kissed in the rain
53. Played in the mud
54. Gone to a drive-in theater
55. Been in a movie
56. Visited the Great Wall of China
57. Started a business
58. Taken a martial arts class
59. Visited Russia
60. Served at a soup kitchen
61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies
62. Gone whale watching
63. Got flowers for no reason
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma
65. Gone sky diving
66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp
67. Bounced a check
68. Flown in a helicopter
69. Saved a favorite childhood toy
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial
71. Eaten caviar
72. Pieced a quilt
73. Stood in Times Square
74. Toured the Everglades
75. Been fired from a job
76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London
77. Broken a bone (my big toes will never be the same)
78. Been a passenger on a motorcycle (I used to consider this better than sex then I met my husband...)
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person
80. Published a book
81. Visited the Vatican
82. Bought a brand new car
83. Walked in Jerusalem
84. Had your picture in the newspaper
85. Kissed a stranger at midnight on New Year’s Eve
86. Visited the White House
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating
88. had chickenpox
89. Saved someone’s life (does it count if you were the one doing the killing but changed your mind???)
90. Sat on a jury
91. Met someone famous
92. Joined a book club
93. Got a tattoo
94. Had a baby
95. Seen the Alamo in person
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake
97. Been involved in a law suit
98. Owned a cell phone
99. Been stung by a bee
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