“Mommy, what’s reptile dysfunction?”
“A crocodile with a limp, honey.”
From the very beginning, some of the most “interesting” words have come out of my daughter’s mouth. Even at one month old, at her baptism, the church was completely quiet as the Reverend announced, “Let us Pray.“ In that moment of pure peace, the joy of my life let go of a belch that would make Homer Simpson proud. And, that’s when the laughter began.
Ah…children. The joy of that little tyke is indescribable. Just ask any parent. And, with the joy comes that ‘unknown factor,’ which can offer a parent everything from fear to inspiration. We are raised by loving parents to hold our tongues in public (not me, apparently…and I think Lady GaGa is out.) We are taught to slip on that mask and hold in our sarcastic comments. Such as, when we sit at our desks and DON’T tell our boss that he’s an idiot yet, we DO tell our neighbors that the porcelain toilet seat holding flowers on their front lawn is art We TRY not to tell our best friend that even though her true love can fart and burp the alphabet at the same time, it doesn’t make him a Nobel Prize winner. Although, let’s face it, this talent could soon end up to be the only necessary requirement to become President.
But when we’re kids…we’re free. We’re free to say anything to anyone as long as we keep that angelic smile glued to our face. Even bitter, old hags have to pat us on the head. God was kind enough to grant me my very own angelic creation. In fact, I have a feeling He held a meeting to make sure that just the right soul was selected to be sent down for payback…answering my own beloved mother’s prayer: “I hope someday you have a child who acts JUST like you!” (I’ve tried to find that in the Bible…I KNOW it’s got to be there.)
My angelic babe is now an adult with a slightly dry, sarcastic tone - where she got that from I have no idea! But once upon a time, as she and I whisked our way across the country, she never failed to deliver the lines that almost got me killed on a number of occasions. And even though her angelic smile was always firmly in place, that glint in her deep, brown eyes led me to believe that she knew EXACTLY what she was doing. My mother’s prayer had been answered.
Graceland. My daughter loved running around that huge hall of gift shops, and boarding that bus that led through the famous gates adorned with musical notes. We put the headphones on and the tour began, as we drove up to the lovely white home with columns out front. (I swear the person who invented headphone tours is laughing their butt off right now.) Entering into that horrific living room, my daughter began to shout: “So where is HE? Where’s Elvis?” Those around us smiled, but the look of those women dressed to the nines in high heels and short skirts - as if The King, himself, were upstairs just waiting to descend and pick one of them from the line-up - mirrored that of the Devil. It was if this child screaming was destroying their greatest fantasy. I tapped my daughter on the shoulder and told her to ‘shush.’ But it was no use. “Maybe he’s upstairs!” Bolting toward the staircase which was roped off, (Let’s face it, putting a rope in front of a child is like putting saran wrap in front of Jaws), I ran after her. She shouted over the recorders, “Well? Where IS this guy?” Mommy was hot. Mommy was tired. And, quite frankly, Mommy was an Aerosmith fan “He’s dead! He was an idiot, took drugs and killed himself! Okay!?” If the world had gone dark at that moment, or an army of policemen had raced up the driveway to arrest me for indecency, I wouldn’t have been surprised. But my daughter just smiled at me and ran in the other direction. “What’s the big deal, then? It’s just a house. What’s a peanut-butter and banana sandwich, anyway?” We raced from that building before I was shot through the neck by a flying stiletto.
Dallas Cowboys Stadium. As a longtime football fan, it was kind of cool to see the inside of this ‘hole-in-the-roof‘ monument, even though I was venturing into enemy territory. Once again the headphones were put on and the great Tom Landry began to speak. My daughter’s strong ‘pipes’ once again interrupted the show. “But Mommy? You HATE the Cowboys! You’re a ‘Niners fan!” (This announcement was made after my team had come to the Lone Star State and wiped the floor with the Cowboys.) I have to say, even though we were in an almost land-locked state, my death by water-boarding looked like it was about to begin.
The Living Room. I came from the bathroom after washing my hair and the phone rang. “This is 911. Are you okay, ma’am?” “Of course,” I replied. “What’s the matter?” “Well…a little girl just dialed from that house.” I looked down at Shelby who just shrugged her shoulders. “I just wanted to talk to Officer Dan.” “Who’s Officer Dan?” Shelby pointed at the TV. Sure enough, Officer Dan was hosting the Cartoon Network, letting everyone know that if they ever needed him, all they had to do was call him up at 911 for a chat. I was then given a lecture on how the number was for emergency use only and I could go to jail if we dialed for no reason. Duh! You’re the ones who are giving out his number!
“Mom, can I see this movie?” I look down at the horrific cover with the scary mask and bloody axe. “No, honey. That’s a bad movie.” My daughter’s little friend asks, “What’s a bad movie?” My dear, sweet angel simply says - in as loud a voice as possible - “They say h*ll, d*mn, and sh*t.” There was a woman who looked a great deal like a nun at Blockbuster that day, and I was suddenly in the cast of Deliverance.
One day we were traveling and had to stop for gas. I was standing in line behind a tall gentleman in a nice suit, when the woman behind the counter told him they were out of gas; the trucks hadn’t arrived yet. He left and I turned to follow. The woman asked me what I needed. “Don’t worry about it,” I replied. “Just needed gas.” She rolled her eyes and started to laugh out loud with her friend. “Well, we have gas for you!” I looked down at my daughter, wondering who died and made me Queen. “Huh?” I replied. “We don’t have gas for them.” I couldn’t figure out what she meant. No gas for businessmen? She lost a lot of money in the stock market and now hated anyone wearing a suit? Then it dawned on me. My daughter and I went back to the car and drove away. We spoke about the fact that Mommy was mad. It was the 1990’s, and being turned down for service because of skin color was something that happened far before my time. But it still existed. Even now, my daughter and I see it in a brand new place.
The point is this. Even though there have been some moments where my daughter‘s words could‘ve landed me in traction, we’ve grown up together. We’ve faced morons, and seen the good and bad in life. And, luckily enough, my daughter still has the kindest heart (and VERY strong voice at VERY interesting times). We taught each other that humor was okay. That having an opinion was okay. As long as you speak the truth and aren’t just slamming others, it is definitely okay to ask questions, keep an open mind, and have a laugh or two. As long as it’s NOT at someone else’s expense!
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Be Alive While You're Alive!
As a heavy metal ‘hair-band’ fan, who hit the dreaded teenage years in the eighties, this will seem a surprising series for me to write. I was used to the “shouting at the devil” of Motley Crue; the colored scarves around Steven Tyler’s neck, Jon Bon Jovi’s immaculate (and big) hair…these were things that made sense to me. But as time has gone forward, I have come to love many different types of music. But I heard one song recently that hit me like a brick in the head.
Now, I’ve heard Tim McGraw songs. In fact, these next three blogs are inspired by him. But recently, I heard one that has always been my favorite. “Live Like You Were Dying” hits me square in the heart, and probably not for the same reason it does for other people. Yes, this is a song about a son who sees his father’s x-rays and knows that his Dad’s passage to Heaven is near.
He asks his Father what do you do with that kind of news? For me, I always think of how amazing it would be. You know? To be able to know the moment it will be too late to do what you wanted to do. I used to travel the highways of America with my music blaring and hardly any money in my pocket, just to get to that next town, or meet that next person who had something to say. I’ve lived my life never wanting to turn around and say, “What if?” But, when you get older, and the responsibilities get harder, sometimes your idea of “freedom” is an impossible thing to attain.
Instead, you get even better things - like the love of a child. And you suddenly have a person in your life who makes you want to do everything in your power to get her to see as many sunsets and sunrises in as many places as you’ve already seen them. You want her to sit in that car beside you with the window down, and go through city after city in order to really see the country she was born in. Now, of course, there’s school…there’s a time when you stop and ‘grow roots’ in order for that wonder of your life to have a good, solid beginning.
I’m forty and, hopefully, I’m not done. And I have only said, “What if?” once. When I hear Tim sing about what his Dad did when he knew the end was drawing near, I loved the fact that he didn’t give up. He didn’t sit in a bed and wait for the end to arrive. He went: sky diving, and rocky mountain climbing, and, my favorite, he went two point seven seconds on a bull named Fu Man Chu. He also did what all of us should do on a daily basis. He: loved deeper and spoke sweeter; and did the one thing I haven’t yet been able to do - he gave forgiveness he’d been denying.
With Tim’s song, I can’t think about the end drawing near or the issues that brought his Dad to this place. All I see is the fact that there is a chance to live. And that chance is every day. It’s when you get up in the morning (with a headache or not), and go out to that job (that you might not like), and work solidly, while trying to figure out your finances, get home, cook (if you’re better than I am at it), talk to that beautiful child, put her to sleep with a story and a prayer, and go to bed…hoping to dream.
Dreaming is a wonderful thing…but living is better. Striving for that ultimate moment when you know you’ve done it all. Or, you at least tried. But you don’t have to dream it - you have to do it. Well, as Tim continues on, he finally read the Good Book, and took a good long hard look, at what I'd do if I could do it all again…
I hope no one ever gets there. I hope that, at the end, you’ve done absolutely everything that you wanted to do (and even some things you never dreamed you could do). Tomorrow is a gift. And, what would you do if you had an eternity to think about what you would do tomorrow? My answer - you should get up, break the rules, and just go do it - whatever it might be.
I have been lucky enough to watch the Eagle as it was flyin.’ It was one of the most beautiful, majestic sights in the world, that I wouldn’t give back or change for any amount of money, or even extra time.
The one regret? I didn’t make it in time to say goodbye to my own father. When I finally got to CT from Dallas, he was asleep. I wonder sometimes what he would’ve done differently if he had known that he was nearing the end. Would he have sat back and wondered what could’ve been if he’d chosen another path?
I’m greedy enough to say that I’m glad everything happened the way it happened for Robert Lignor. I’m glad of all the strife, pain, and struggle he had to go through when he was a young man. Why? Simple. It was because of all those things - all those bad and good days - that made him end up to be mine.
But I sure would’ve liked the chance to walk him through the gates of Graceland, or drive him over the Rocky Mountains and see the Budweiser Clydesdales roaming the fields. I would’ve liked to bring him to see the Space Needle in Seattle, or walk beside him into a stadium where we could sit together on the fifty-yard line and watch the Super Bowl play out. He would’ve loved stopping in Nashville and seeing a show at the Grand Ole Opry. And I would’ve loved to have succeeded in my dream before he passed away, so that he could be front and center when it finally happens one of these days. He could be there to walk up the stairs of the New York Public Library between Patience and Fortitude for my very first book signing.
Of course, I can feel that man so strongly by my side - even when he was here in body - that I always felt him in the car as I traveled the United States. That man’s soul is in his granddaughter now, the girl who rode in the passenger seat to all those fun places. So he did experience them all…through her eyes.
Be alive while you are alive. Don’t miss one single solitary moment of it. It goes away too soon, and there is SO much to do! When you dream, dream big! And then go out there the next day and make it all come true.
I think Tim McGraw would agree with me.
Now, I’ve heard Tim McGraw songs. In fact, these next three blogs are inspired by him. But recently, I heard one that has always been my favorite. “Live Like You Were Dying” hits me square in the heart, and probably not for the same reason it does for other people. Yes, this is a song about a son who sees his father’s x-rays and knows that his Dad’s passage to Heaven is near.
He asks his Father what do you do with that kind of news? For me, I always think of how amazing it would be. You know? To be able to know the moment it will be too late to do what you wanted to do. I used to travel the highways of America with my music blaring and hardly any money in my pocket, just to get to that next town, or meet that next person who had something to say. I’ve lived my life never wanting to turn around and say, “What if?” But, when you get older, and the responsibilities get harder, sometimes your idea of “freedom” is an impossible thing to attain.
Instead, you get even better things - like the love of a child. And you suddenly have a person in your life who makes you want to do everything in your power to get her to see as many sunsets and sunrises in as many places as you’ve already seen them. You want her to sit in that car beside you with the window down, and go through city after city in order to really see the country she was born in. Now, of course, there’s school…there’s a time when you stop and ‘grow roots’ in order for that wonder of your life to have a good, solid beginning.
I’m forty and, hopefully, I’m not done. And I have only said, “What if?” once. When I hear Tim sing about what his Dad did when he knew the end was drawing near, I loved the fact that he didn’t give up. He didn’t sit in a bed and wait for the end to arrive. He went: sky diving, and rocky mountain climbing, and, my favorite, he went two point seven seconds on a bull named Fu Man Chu. He also did what all of us should do on a daily basis. He: loved deeper and spoke sweeter; and did the one thing I haven’t yet been able to do - he gave forgiveness he’d been denying.
With Tim’s song, I can’t think about the end drawing near or the issues that brought his Dad to this place. All I see is the fact that there is a chance to live. And that chance is every day. It’s when you get up in the morning (with a headache or not), and go out to that job (that you might not like), and work solidly, while trying to figure out your finances, get home, cook (if you’re better than I am at it), talk to that beautiful child, put her to sleep with a story and a prayer, and go to bed…hoping to dream.
Dreaming is a wonderful thing…but living is better. Striving for that ultimate moment when you know you’ve done it all. Or, you at least tried. But you don’t have to dream it - you have to do it. Well, as Tim continues on, he finally read the Good Book, and took a good long hard look, at what I'd do if I could do it all again…
I hope no one ever gets there. I hope that, at the end, you’ve done absolutely everything that you wanted to do (and even some things you never dreamed you could do). Tomorrow is a gift. And, what would you do if you had an eternity to think about what you would do tomorrow? My answer - you should get up, break the rules, and just go do it - whatever it might be.
I have been lucky enough to watch the Eagle as it was flyin.’ It was one of the most beautiful, majestic sights in the world, that I wouldn’t give back or change for any amount of money, or even extra time.
The one regret? I didn’t make it in time to say goodbye to my own father. When I finally got to CT from Dallas, he was asleep. I wonder sometimes what he would’ve done differently if he had known that he was nearing the end. Would he have sat back and wondered what could’ve been if he’d chosen another path?
I’m greedy enough to say that I’m glad everything happened the way it happened for Robert Lignor. I’m glad of all the strife, pain, and struggle he had to go through when he was a young man. Why? Simple. It was because of all those things - all those bad and good days - that made him end up to be mine.
But I sure would’ve liked the chance to walk him through the gates of Graceland, or drive him over the Rocky Mountains and see the Budweiser Clydesdales roaming the fields. I would’ve liked to bring him to see the Space Needle in Seattle, or walk beside him into a stadium where we could sit together on the fifty-yard line and watch the Super Bowl play out. He would’ve loved stopping in Nashville and seeing a show at the Grand Ole Opry. And I would’ve loved to have succeeded in my dream before he passed away, so that he could be front and center when it finally happens one of these days. He could be there to walk up the stairs of the New York Public Library between Patience and Fortitude for my very first book signing.
Of course, I can feel that man so strongly by my side - even when he was here in body - that I always felt him in the car as I traveled the United States. That man’s soul is in his granddaughter now, the girl who rode in the passenger seat to all those fun places. So he did experience them all…through her eyes.
Be alive while you are alive. Don’t miss one single solitary moment of it. It goes away too soon, and there is SO much to do! When you dream, dream big! And then go out there the next day and make it all come true.
I think Tim McGraw would agree with me.
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