Christmas Eve

As my son prepares our traditional DiGiorno pizza for dinner, a Christmas eve wish...


There's nothing sadder in this world than to awake Christmas morning and not be a child.~~Erma Bombeck~~

Now, when you read that do not think, oh dear, that is so right. Think, I am a child. A child of the Creator, and I deserve to believe that I am a beautiful, wonderful, worthwhile individual with so much to offer myself and those I love. The most important things I have to offer have nothing to do with the house being spotless, or the decorations being Martha Stewart worthy, or the Christmas dinner being course after course of delicious. What I have to offer is the heart of a worthwhile person. A heart that knows that I am intelligent, and caring, and worthy of treating myself well. A heart that is able to be a better mother, wife, sister, daughter, friend because I know my value.

Take time today to rest, even though you have things to do. Take some time to get at least a few moments with yourself, and remind yourself that a confident, loving smile is worth more than anything you can possibly accomplish today. Remind yourself that when we wake up on Christmas morning we are all someone's child, and relax and enjoy the day, no matter the circumstances. CHOOSE to believe in yourself, CHOOSE to hear only the truth about yourself from yourself and others, CHOOSE to remember who you are and nothing else can take that wonder away from the day. Relax, refresh your spirit, and wake up Christmas morning with the eyes and heart of a child!


Now why is DiGiorno your Christmas Eve dinner you might ask. Well, it's a tradition.In our family Christmas Eve means that my son is in charge of the kitchen. Not a bad tradition!

 We came up with this tradition because I was a working mother.Well, we all are. My last job,I worked in a huge grocery store. I would finish the midnight shift on the 23rd, and then go back in and work the day shift on the 24th. By the time we closed the store at 6:00 pm, took care of all the customers, and allowed the teammates a few minutes to grab that last item, it was often close to7:00 by the time I got to my car.I would drive home, tired. So, we decided that we would just have pizza for dinner, and if I called home just before I headed to the car, it could go in the oven.  My husband and son would wait for me to call, and by the time I got home, changed my clothes, and sat down in my recliner to put my feet up dinner would be ready and our son would serve Mom and Dad.

I hope that you and those you care about have traditions.Traditions are an important way to bridge the gap between generations, to enlarge your tent and bring new people into the circle of your hearts.Traditions are an important way to share memories, to make memories, and to anticipate new memories the next time you act upon the tradition.Tradition is a way that our families, our friends,our communities can stay connected one to another.Tradition can be the way that we remember what it is to love and to be loved. In our house, a boy who was born blessed by autism did not have the ability to tell us with words that he loved us, but he can bake a pizza.


Peace and Blessings,

EB

Timely Reminder

So, I was wallowing in a pity party last night, and scrolling through twitter when this came on my feed. Now this is not somehthing I do not know,it is just something I tend to forget when I am in the idst of a "pity- party of one" frame of mind.

This is such a difficult time of year, not just for me. I honestly don't know many people, especially women, who don't get frazzled and stressed out this time of year.

First, it's winter and days are short and some of us don't function well when it is dark all the time. (why yes, I am one of those, it makes me cranky, what?)

Then it is the holidays. We think everyone else is handling the extra stress of the holidays better than us...and why are the holidays so damn stressful anyway.

We get so busy this time of year. Whether we are rich or poor, young or old, we get stressed out around the holidays. If you are having financial problems-like we do at our house, you worry, and stress out about how you will keep the electricity on, and still manage to provide a semblance of cheer. It's really hard to think you won't be able to buy a gift for your chid. Really hard. 

 

 If you are lucky enough to  have money, you still worry.

 

So much to do,so little time...

We are bombarded by images, Martha Stewart worthy decorations.Chef worthy dinners, delectable desserts, 6 kinds of cookies.Norman Rockwell family images. And we start to believe that we are the only ones frazzled, stressed, frightened becasue obviously everyone else is better at this that we are.

Sometimes, in the midst of all of this we feel totally useless. As if we have nothing to offer. Everyone else is better at al of this. Or maybe that is just me (but I don't really think so) There are very few things in life that I use the word hate for, but one of the things I do use it for is this. I HATE feeling useless.

That is why this lovely tweet was so timely for me. I needed the reminder.

I think people have this skewed vision of what life used to be-too many Norman Rockwell magazine covers. Norman Rockwell was an artist not an historian.

Honestly, people weren't all that much different 50, 60, 100 years ago. There were good people, there were not so good people. It wasn't a Norman Rockwell magazine cover or an episode of Leave it To Beaver. Just like now, so many things depend on your economic status. Poor women worked outside the home-often in the homes of women with more resources. Poor people spent there limited resources trying to keep a roof over their head and feed their families. 

The world does not cease to exist if we bake 2 kinds of cookies instead of 6. The world does not cease to turn on its axis if we cease to run around frenetically, the sun still,even if belatedly, comes up in the morning. If we choose to not spend money we don't have this year, no one will hate us because their present is smaller (well, if they do they don't count anyway!)Besides, the small ones play with the boxes longer than the presents! The older ones will understand if we are being honest, authentic in our lives.So yes, let's remember to slow down, to breathe. When we get all caught up in the frenzy we miss so much.

So, I appreciate the reminder.

Value and worth are inherent. None of us are useless, not even me.

So, I will take a breath, appreciate the reminder and keep doing what I can,as we start the countdown to the end of the year remeber...All you can do is all you can do.

Peaceand Blessings,

EB


P.S. I dislike doing this but there is a paypal button over there,just in case. The William and I are struggling,and  embarassed I am pointing out the button.We are continually blessed.

Stories of my Father

Today is my father's birthday. he was born 115 years ago. A different time. 

He was a simple man, born in a different time. He did the best he knew how to do when he was raising us. Many things he did were wrong, but he thought he was doing the right thing, doing the best he could, and so as I matured it was easy to forgive him.


I loved my father.He was a good man and many people admired and cared about him. He would say he was a simple farmboy from Missouri, but he was more than that.He had been a muleskinner before he joined the army. Here in Kansas City he would shoe horses and mules, and he kept that occupation in the army. He had a long ugly scar on his shin that he got when a mule that he was putting ice shoes on kicked him. The ice shoes were for working the mules on the frozen Missouri river. He had left school after 8th grade to help support his family. He was the oldest of 8 children, and he took his role as oldest seriously. When my grandfather became ill my father helped take care of them by going to work.He had an amazing, strong work ethic. When work became hard to find in the 1920's he joined the army.

Towards the end of his stint in the army he was based in Southern California. A few months before his discharge he met my mother. He always told the story of how they met and why they married. My mother was a waitress in a diner that was owned by a married couple. My father was a bit of a rogue, a rake in those days and had been seeing the married woman. Then he met my mother and asked her out and she said no. So, he stopped seeing the married woman and asked my mother out again. She went out with him, to the car races on a Sunday afternoon. The next day, when her married boss found out that she had gone out with my father, my mother was fired.My father always said he married her because he had made her lose her job.

Even though my father was very stern and reserved with me, I do still have some very good memories of him.

This one starts out hard, but ends up with a great line...
I had to pretty much run away from home to go to college. My father forbid me going, and I ended up living at home a couple of years until I turned 18 and could leave on my own.My mother understood it was something I had to do, and I think that is because she couldn't afford to go to college when she graduated from high school in 1930. So, I turn 18, and I am on my way to the bus station to head to college. The last thing I hear my father say to my mother is that "Nothing good will come of this, she'll go off and come back pregnant." He had such faith in me! So of I went to college, majored in theatre, ended up working in theatre and radio, won awards in both careers. My father saw me on stage one time, and heard me on the radio once. A few years later, when their health was failing, Papa had congestive heart failure, emphysema,and Alzheimer's. Hard to believe, this was a man who retired from a roofing company at 65, and went back to work at the roofing company at 67, and the young guys couldn't keep up with him. He fell off a roof when he was 73, around Halloween. He broke his hip and had surgery to implant screws and a rod the first of November. Doctors said he would take 8 months to a year to walk again. On January 1st, we were watching the news and there was a fire at the company where he had worked for 50 years. He said "They're going to need everyone and went back to work on January 2nd. He worked for several more years, until the Alzheimer's got bad enough that he couldn't work anymore.But I digress...when his health was getting worse and he and mother couldn't manage on their own anymore, I left my career in radio and back to California to take care of them. I did not know at that time that I was pregnant. After I had been there a couple of months it became obvious I should see a doctor, and I was shocked to learn that I was expecting. Remember what my father said when I left for college? Well here it was decades later,I was an award winning actress, designer,and broadcast news director, afraid to tell my father that I was pregnant because I was his old maid daughter. So, I call my little sister (two years younger than me) who was a married mother of two. My sister tells my mother, and my mother goes in to tell my father while I sit on the porch. It is late summer, and the windows are open and I can hear my mother telling my father what the doctor had said and the next thing I hear is my father's voice..."I told you if we let her go off to college this would happen, she came home pregnant."

Did you notice that I was his old maid daughter? This is one of my favorite stories. I was working at a theatre on my 25th birthday. We didn't have a phone back in the costume shop, so if there was a call someone would have to come get us. So it is the afternoon of my 25th birthday, here comes the office girl who says "You have a phone call, it's you're father." My father? My father never calls. He always has my mother call, even his favorite sister. He will talk on the phone  but he never makes the call. Assuming the worst, that something is wrong with Mother I run to the office to answer. I pick up the phone and say hello. My father says hello, and I ask him if everything is OK. Is something wrong with mother? Here is the rest of the conversation...

"No, your mother is fine, I wanted to talk to you."

"Is everything OK?"

"Do you know what today is?" 

"Yes, sir, it's my birthday."

"Do you know how old you are?"

"Yes, sir, I am 25."

"What did you do last night?"

"We had a show, I worked."

"What are you doing tonight?"

"We have a  show Papa, I am working."

"Did you get married since the last time we talked to you?"

"No, sir, you know I didn't."

"Are you sure? Do you have plans to get married tonight?"

"Yes, sir.I am sure.No, sir, no plans to get married."

"Do you know what it means when a  girl turns 25 and she's not married?"

"No, sir, I don't."

"It means you are an old maid.If you turn 25 and you're not married you are an old maid. there has never been an old maid in my family.I'll be the first one to have an old maid daughter.Do you know what happens when you turn 35 and you're not married?"

[By this time I am laughing]
 "No, sir, I don't know."

"If you turn 35 and you're not married,and it doesn't look like you're going to be,at 35 you become the little old lady who lives on the corner."

[I am really laughing now]
"Papa, I am 6'1" and weigh over 300 pounds, I hardly think I will be a LITTLE old lady."

"It doesn't matter, at 35 you become the little old lady who lives on the corner. I won't be able to hold my head up in my family."

And then he hung up. I am not sure to this day whether he was serious, but once again I did not disappoint my father. I was 47 when I married. I wish he had still been alive to come!

Here's the last one I will share today. I only talked back to my father twice in my life. The first time was when I was 13, and it was the last time he whooped me with the leather strap. It had to do with me sassing my mom, and that was NOT allowed. The second time, I was 22. It was the night before my sister's wedding. For reasons that don't really matter anymore, my father had decided he was not going to the wedding. My sister was hurt. Some in the family thought he didn't want to get dressed up. He wore bib overalls every day of his life. I only saw him dressed up in slacks and jacket one time. But my sister didn't care if he came in his overalls, she just wanted him to come. One of our older brothers would be walking her down the aisle because of my father's stubborn stand.So, since we are all busy getting ready for the wedding, it is decided that we would go pick up some take-out food. I ask my father to go with me, and he does. While waiting I get my nerve up and I say to him "I am going to say this and you can whip me if you want, but you are going to that wedding." "No, I'm not," he answers. "Yes, old man," I say, "you are going to that wedding if I have to knock you out and take you there myself." Nothing more was said, the food came and we took it home. We all went to the wedding the next day, and left him at home. We got dressed, and the music started.As the maid of honor I start down the aisle just before my sister, and there in the last pew, sitting on the aisle, was an old man in bib overalls. I looked him in the eye and smiled. He did not smile back. My sister, who had not cried yet that day started crying when she saw him. So, later as I drove him and mother home from the reception,a reception where he had a great time and maybe got a little tipsy, he said to me "you were right, but don't you ever talk to me that way again."  I never spoke back to him again.

The morning he died, his mind was amazingly clear. I had him up and bathed and dressed in his beloved overalls. he was playing with my son, who was about a year old. Papa told my son he loved him, then looked at me and said "He's going to grow up to be a fine young man, I wish I was going to be around to see it."

I treasure those words, and I miss my father, and I wish he were here to see that his words are true. My son is an amazing young man, and I tell him the stories of my father.

So, today, I will honor them both by telling  stories, our stories.

Please, if you know someone who is grieving or struggling, let them honor their loved ones by telling the stories. I believe you will be blessed.


Peace and Blessings,

EB




P.S. I dislike doing this but there is a paypal button over there,just in case. I told a friend once who was embarrassed about asking for help that if we don't make our needs known how does anyone ever know we have needs.The William and I are struggling,and just as embarrassed I am pointing out the button.We are continually blessed.