Friday. Friday. Friday!

2 weeks till my Mom & sister get here .

The weather’s warmed up and the forecast actually looks promising.

There’s lots to do at the office and plenty to be done at home.

But never mind that.

Conference calls would be a lot livelier if these were in my office! (google images)

It’s Friday.

I just want to bang on the drum all day!

You?

(be sure to crank up the volume for the song below)

What I haven’t written about are all the nudges I experienced while there.

It started with the two Minnesota businessmen seated across from me at the conference dinner, the ones whose accents sounded so familiar.  The fellows who told their stories in the modest way Midwesterners do; what stays with me is how easily we laughed, as though we were old friends reunited after years apart.

There was the English couple making their way to St. Louis; his brown eyes locking on mine when he said, “It’s my Mother, you see, and she wants me to come.” I found myself nodding in agreement.   We talked of the bond between Mothers and children, regardless that she was 84 and he 61. I’d forgotten it was Mother’s Day that coming Sunday.  His wife, serene and beautiful, like Jane Goodall, smiled in support of the journey.

There was the businesswoman softly sobbing in the seat next to mine, our flight delayed again and again because of weather. But it wasn’t the storms that made her cry, it was her husband’s terse texts about being late to their 9 year old’s birthday.

There was the Arizona executive I met at an evening mixer, the woman who smiled as she told me of her Dad’s health challenges and how no other siblings were involved because he was such a cranky-puss these days.   She smiled her way through the fatigue.

There was the skinny smiley cab driver from Afghanistan who showed me photos of his baby daughter and the cleaning lady with the shy smile who never failed to say “Good morning!”

Maybe I was just a country girl in the city overwhelmed with the sights, the smells, the significance.

But I don’t think that’s it.

I felt it. With each of them.

A nudge.

A little push that said, “hear them. see them. listen.”

And so I did.

And in the listening,  that’s where I find the lessons live.

“An invisible thread connects those who are destined to meet, regardless of time, place or circumstance.  The thread may stretch or tangle. But it will never break.” -  Proverbs

Have you ever experienced nudges like this? What did you?

related:

• Lessons in the snapshots of life
• I saw her
• Seeing the need
• Because sometimes I just know
• Starting points

:: google.images.com::

Asked, “what’s on your summer list?” I found my list rolling off my tongue as though I’d practiced it for days! (maybe some of that’s true).

Lilacs!

they’re gonna bloom this week I think!

Leinenkugel’s Summer Shandy with me at the grill.

Summer Shandy… ah

Hanging in the pool till I’m wrinkly and white; cherries, watermelon, corn on the cob and fresh summer peas.

Michigan cherries … yum!

Tigers baseball on the radio .. outside; play dates with the grand kids.

making cookies with the Grands

Summer gatherings, skirts, kitten heels and date nights … all under the light of a summer moon. 

just like this one

Lacy sweet peonies that take me back to Grandma’s garden.

peonies!

Fresh peach cobblers and Texas Sheet cakes, just because.

Summertime means peach cobbler!

Rich chocolate nutty icing poured onto a delectable warm cake? Yes please!

The squeals of children filling the backyard.

cousins and cousins and more!

A contented old dog reminding me to take my time in the sun, too.

Frankie has the relaxing part down-pat.

That’s what I long for this summer.

What’s on your summer list? 

Thanks to Jessie for the inspiration!

One of my favorite pictures of Mom & me… having a Killian’s in Branson, MO

A mom reads you like a book, and wherever she goes, people read you like a glowing book review.  ~Robert Brault

***

We all need someone who believes in us – someone who sees our potential and who encourages us to keep on going when times get hard.  Someone who reminds us of what is working in our life and that tomorrow will be better.  Someone who points out all we have to be grateful for right now.

We need someone who cheers the loudest when we succeed and stays the closest when we’re hurting.

No matter how robust our self-confidence is, knowing that we are treasured is the magic elixir that gives us the ability to be our best.

In everything I’ve ever accomplished and all that I’ve ever experienced, I’ve had one tiny but mighty powerhouse behind me: my mother.

Thank you to my Mom who taught me the importance of a meal lovingly prepared, of make-believe play on stormy days, the joy of reading and the ability to laugh at myself.

Thank you to my Mom for driving me to piano lessons even though I could “hear” the music and didn’t bother learning to read notes; for sewing my skating costumes, helping me finish 4-H projects and listening to me practice my speeches.

Thank you to my Mom who put up with my petulance at 14, what I was sure was true love at 16, and impatience at 18.

Thank you to my Mom who taught me that a real man cries, loves children and animals and his wife, and shows up.

Thank you to my Mom who  inspires me to challenge what I know for sure, to stretch my limits and to never underestimate what can be done.

Thank you to my Mom, who let me have sleepovers, talent shows, weenie roasts and birthday parties.

Thank you to my Mom for teaching me how to have a warm & inviting home; to cook, clean and entertain in a way that makes my family want to be home more than not.

Thank you to my Mom who taught me to not save my best manners for strangers and to, no matter what, stay up for kids coming in at night so there’s always an audience for their stories.

Thank you for my Mom who let me go; who, in spite of the miles that separate us, and the time between our face-to-face conversations, has never failed to rally behind me and say “You can do it, kid.”

Thank you, Mom, thank you.

The greatest gift I’ve ever received … is a Mother who is happy to be one.

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom.

*originally posted 5/6/2011

Want to read more about the 4’11″ dynamo?

• I’m Gay
• What the daughter does
• At home
• Seeing the need
• Love is groceries
• I don’t like to leave her
• Intuitive Mothering
• Go to your baby a million times

Five years ago, I passed that test with flying colors.

Five years ago, I raised my right hand and took the oath of allegiance to the United States of America and proudly stepped forward as a new citizen.

Five years ago, I got my second passport.

Five years.

Five years ago, I couldn’t have imagined that five years later I’d be heading to Washington, D.C. this morning to represent my employer and my state.

Five years.

Only in America!

The United States Capitol is the meeting place of the United States Congress, the legislature of the federal government of the United States. Located in Washington, D.C., it sits atop Capitol Hill at the eastern end of the National Mall. http://www.visitthecapitol.gov/‎

“…she cried because prejudice outlives passion and because she was sentimentally patriotic.”  ― Irène Némirovsky

related posts:

• A new citizen votes again
• What you can do today
• Starting points
• Happy Birthday Amer-wica!!

That’s where this meeting came in.  Talking with another Manager, she referenced the changes to her team and how a responsibility our departments share has raised a lot of questions.

“Is there any way you’d be available to walk us through this sometime?”

“Sure, how about Thursday.”

This is a role that I enjoy most:  mastering a task and helping others master it, too.  It’s not new, I’ve done it my entire career, but sometimes the ability to share like this gets replaced by other tasks at hand.

Windows down, sunshine in my face, I drove past a “Big Boy” restaurant and I felt it. A pinch. I thought of him: Grandpa to the boys, Step-Dad to the hubbs. Father-in-law to me.  Elderly. Widowed.  Alone.

I called and, of course, got his answering machine. No surprise for he’s never answered numbers he doesn’t recognize.  Listening to his stern message scolding solicitors and anyone daring  prey on this ex Military policeman, I chuckled.  I identified myself, told him where I was off to, and that I’d be back in about 2 hours .. just in time for lunch at Big Boy, if he was free, that is.

About 40 minutes later, my phone rang. The tutorial was already underway but I excused myself to take the call, something told me I knew who it was.

“Hi, this is John.  I’m up for lunch – what time?”

Military man – man of few words — direct and to the point. I like that. We worked out the details with me promising to call when I was on my way back.  Arriving at the restaurant first, I couldn’t help but notice all of the other elderly gentlemen dining …. alone.

The Big Boy Slim Jim – yum!

In he came, grinning, and big hugs were exchanged.  We laughed a lot, ordered our lunch, and chatted some more.  He told me how they liked to stop here after her Wednesday hair appointments.   He ordered the “Slim Jim” with the comment “it was her favorite.” We talked about the passing of George Jones and how she’d be tapping her toe in Heaven, now that George and Tammy were reunited again.

We talked of my Mom and sister’s upcoming visit and plans for barbeques he’s invited to and, before long, it was time to go. More hugs, more smiles, and I think I heard a whistle as he walked to his truck.

* “Near You” was played at her funeral

“A lonely day is God’s way of saying that he wants to spend some quality time with you.” – Criss Jami

To the outside world, we all grow old.

But not to brothers and sisters.

We know each other as we always were. We know each other’s hearts.

We share private family jokes.

We remember family feuds and secrets, family griefs and joys.

We live outside the touch of time.

-Clara Ortega

all of us:: an emjayandthem (C) photo

*30 days till I see my sissy again, the tall one on the right (we’re now the same height).  And that’s me giggling in the red jammies.

As in ….  more spam?

More hostile comments so nonsensical and poorly written that they’re laughable?

More links to – ahem – enhancement products and dating sites?

More subscribers with links to blogs that … don’t exist?

I have.

When I was a kid, Mom bought Spam sometimes.

this kind — salty with a touch of slime

She’d slice it into thick slices and fry it on high heat, heat so hot the edges would burn and curl just a little.  Served up with scrambled eggs or cheesy potatoes we kids, fresh off our ponies, the lake or the field, would gobble it down.

It wasn’t great, but it was a salty-hammy-concoction that was tolerable.  Especially with enough ketchup.

Nowadays, Spam means something else.

Spam now is unwanted e-attention from ill-intentioned people and systems.

Systems and individuals looking to scam, steal, trick, coerce and lie their way into our good graces.

Do what I do … send ‘em to the Spam folder.  Never respond. Don’t click on their faceless links.

And hope that WordPress turns the heat up so high they smoke.

The Akismet Widget in action

Are you seeing more spam these days?  Have you turned up the heat? 

Snow Thursday, 64 Saturday.

But out and about this morning, something in the mulch caught my attention.

Something small and pink and determined:

The Peonies have spoken: Spring is here!

“She turned to the sunlight
And shook her yellow head,
And whispered to her neighbor:
“Winter is dead.”
― A.A. Milne, When We Were Very Young

That long awaited, much anticipated day.

There’s still lots of the week left in today, but we’re close enough to the finish line to begin thinking of other things.

I see you, weekend!

Weekend warriors or time to just be?

Maybe a little of both?

Whatever you choose, take it from me and do what feeds your soul.

“When you do things from your soul, you feel a river moving in you, a joy.”― Rumi

*image from Pinterest