Tag: caring

The Gift that Everyone Needs

~ boydwilsonpat ~ Leave a comment
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Tis the season for gift giving, whether you celebrate Hannukah, Las Posadas, Christmas, Kwanzaa, or a Hallmark “every day is a holiday” creation. People are buying gift cards, and trinkets to make someone they care about feel the joy of the season. Yet, it is said, “The best things in life are free.” (Interestingly this saying is credited to Coco Chanel who also famously added, “the second-best things are very, very expensive.”) I believe this is true, “the best things in life are free” as it relates to dollars and cents, and one of those best things is the gift of presence.

Presence is showing up, the state of being in place, being in attendance – it is a physical and spiritual thing. (Check out the etymology of the word in a dictionary.) In other words, you are singularly focused on being in a place with another person or people – mind, body, and soul. This is important because too often we consider ourselves present when our minds are elsewhere; like when you see a couple at dinner and they are both on their cell phones. Their bodies are in the right place, but their focus is not. They are really not present with one another. Being present requires us to fully give of ourselves – to be engaged. Our senses, our attention, and our focus is for the person or people we are with. We intentionally show up mentally and emotionally as well as physically. Each of us are seen and heard and appreciated. This is the gift that everyone needs, and I would like to think that everyone wants.

Presence is the gift that keeps on giving. When all the holiday decoration is gone and the parties are over, presence lingers on and creates a chain for future connections. It’s a gift that both the recipient and the giver can enjoy simultaneously, and it’s a gift that can be renewed over and over again. In today’s society, we need to make meaningful connections with the people in our lives and community. We need to know one another more intimately rather than make unwarranted assumptions about one another. We need to identify our commonalities, and form cherish-able memories. We need to let one another know how valuable our relationships are before we have regrets and before it’s too late. Every relationship requires a certain amount of presence to thrive.

If there are special people in your life (children, parents, spouses, siblings, friends, neighbors, co-workers, merchants, mentors, ministers, club members, charitable servants, etc.) it’s not too late to give the gift of presence to someone in your life. Perhaps there is that friend you have been meaning to call and catch up with. Perhaps there is a relative you saw at the last family funeral, and you said: “Let’s not meet this way again, let’s get together soon.” Perhaps there’s an elderly neighbor who could use a little company every now and then. Or maybe there is someone in your life who has given you the gift of their presence and you’ve not taken the time to tell them what they mean to you. The gift of presence is intangible. It doesn’t wear out or go out of style. The value of presence is an indescribably investment – one that you can carry with you and distribute for the rest of your life. 

Someone you know needs the gift of presence not because it’s the season of giving and getting, but because there is nothing like being known and seen, honored and appreciated, received and treasured. When you give the gift of presence you leave an indelible mark of true companionship and comradery that is priceless and continues to give for a lifetime. As long as you have breath, it’s never too late to give the gift that everyone needs. 

May the New Year bring you many gifts of presence and in this case, it really is better to give than to receive. Happy Hanukkah, Feliz Los Posadas, Merry Christmas, Kwanzaa Peace. Blessings in the New Year.

 

An Indelible Mark

~ boydwilsonpat ~ 1 Comment

During a recent author talk, I found myself talking about the investment that my ancestors made in my life. Because they allowed me to be curious and took the time to answer my incessant questions, they each contributed to the person I am and am becoming. The husky laugh of my great grandfather, the supernatural patience of my great grandmother, the academic prodding of my grandmother, the fervent prayers of my mother, the proud recitations of my great uncle – all these things and much more have left an indelible mark on my life and my worldview. This seems like the way it should be – each generation leaving their mark on the next. So, I ask myself, what kind of mark am I leaving. Am I truly investing my life wisely, practically, and usefully in the generations around me?

At that same author talk, one of the parents of a student I taught in preschool and prekindergarten many years ago was present. Her daughter is now in college and has become quite the young lady. Her mom thanked me for laying the foundation for her daughter’s academic success. I couldn’t help but wonder if her daughter felt the same. Would she remember me the way I remember her. She was a bright and curious child, eager to please and filled with love and laughter. Beyond the academics, we laughed and danced, sang and read, and used the scientific method to investigate everything. She was one of many groups of children that have crossed my path as an educator and caregiver. I can only hope my methods left a positive impact on their young lives.

Not too long ago, I went into a bank to make a deposit for my mom. She and I stood in the line for several minutes before being called to a window. The young man at the window greeted us both by name before we presented any documentation. He said, “You don’t remember me, do you?” I had to admit I did not, nor did my mom. He introduced himself and told us he remembered us from a summer camp experience when he was in elementary school. He and his sister attended the program two years in a row. I ran the summer camp, and my mother ran the cafeteria program. He said, “Those were the best summers of our lives. I will never forget the field trips, the science experiments, and the kick ball games as long as I live. I wish y’all were still around for my kids.” Wow! I stood there proud and amazed. The summer camp and all its employees had left an indelible mark on this young man’s life.

I had a similar experience at Wal-Mart. This time there were two young men. One was a customer and the other a cashier. The customer said, “Aren’t you Ms. Wilson?” I hesitantly said yes. Then he said to the cashier, I told you so. I said, “You have me at a disadvantage who are you?” The customer started singing, O Holy Night. I laughed. During the years, when I worked for Will-Mariah Christian School he had sang O Holy Night for several of our Christmas programs. He was the older brother of one of our students. The cashier said you probably don’t know me, but you taught my little brother, and he told me his name. Little B (I’m withholding names because I didn’t get permission to use them. B was not his real name.) was hyperactive and very bright. He ran the teachers ragged and was sent to my office on a regular basis, but I never gave up on him. “OMG,” I said, “How is he, how’s your mom?” “He’s doing well, better than me. He joined the military and is stationed in N. Carolina. Mom is good. I can’t wait to tell her I saw you.” I not sure what kind of impact our school and staff had on these two siblings of our students, but apparently something touched them and stuck out in their minds; something that they had not forgotten over the years.

Each of us have an opportunity to leave an indelible mark. It doesn’t have to be academic in nature. It can be an act of kindness or sharing a story, a bit of food, or finances. It can be conversations or visits to a nursing home or children’s ward at a hospital. Encouraging words and expressions of faith in someone’s ability may be just the thing to make a marked and positive impact in someone’s life. Being a source of comfort or inquiry – a safe place for questions to be asked or secrets to be shared can leave an indelible mark which can be passed on to others by your example. It’s all about taking the time to invest your life in the lives of others – your time, talent, and treasure. (https://bene-log.com/2020/01/16/personal-investments/) It’s all about letting people know they are worth it. It’s about giving the gift of presence and wanting the best for others. (https://bene-log.com/2023/12/28/its-not-too-late-to-give-the-gift-of-presence/) Like all good things this can start at home and spread abroad.

What kind of mark are you leaving on your children, your grandchildren, your nieces and nephews? What if the only marks being left are negative and ugly – the marks of the world around them, rather than the marks of those who love them? Do we really want the marks that cannot be removed, erased, or forgotten to be all negative? I certainly don’t. I may not be able to stop those who choose to be the devil’s advocate, but I can certainly do my part to leave a legacy of positive impact. That’s what Bene-Log is all about – leaving a good word wherever I can.

Here’s a quote to live by: “Do all the good you can, by all the means you can, in all the ways you can, in all the places you can, at all the times you can, to all the people you can, as long as ever you can.” – John Wesley

Now that’s a good word! PEACE!

My mom and I

Cherish Your Relationships

~ boydwilsonpat ~ Leave a comment

Not too long ago I wrote a piece on Fighting Loneliness (click the title if you missed it) . It was about missing the special relationships I had with my grandparents and great grandparents as well as their brothers and sisters. I really miss the times we spent together sharing stories and our hopes and dreams. Each one of those relationships hold a special place in my heart and always will, but that doesn’t mean I don’t treasure the relationships I have today. These relationships are equally as important and tremendously valuable to me. Sometimes we forget how valuable our relationships are. Every encounter and interaction is significant to our sense of belonging and our growth as a person. Relationships on various levels contribute to our self-esteem and our self worth in both positive and negative ways, but for this piece I want to concentrate on the positive ones.

Recently, my oldest granddaughter got married. Her wedding reunited family and friends from all over the country and from various walks of life. It felt like a family or class reunion. It was wonderful to catch up on all the events and achievements of each person. It made me realize how much I missed them. By not staying in contact for such long periods of time, I was totally out of touch. Somehow we had allowed life, work, technology, and general busyness to interfere with our ongoing relationships. Sure we hit each other up on social media from time to time and sent an occasional text message, but that is not the same as actively nurturing and growing a relationship. In the short time of the wedding and reception, we tried to share everything we missed. We laughed, we cried, we hugged, we tried to explain and share every trial and triumph. We could not have done that electronically and it was nearly impossible in the time we had on the day.

We experience words differently in person than we do in text. A person’s words are connected to their body language, inflection, and tone. In person these things add a dynamic to what is being said that we can only imagine in text. Whether it’s a coworker, your best friend, or a family member these interpersonal conversations are shared experiences when done in person. Discussions take on new meaning when you can see the person’s emotions or feel the tension in their body. We react to the total expression rather than trying to interpret meaning on the written page. That’s why actual friends mean more to you than social media friends. After all, you may not be at all aquatinted with the person on the other side of the screen even though you may have some common interest.

At the wedding, we all vowed to stay in contact and connect several times within the next couple of months. We said we would call, do lunch, or catch a movie – promises to cherish and nurture our relationships. I plan to keep those promises. Yet, it can only happen if I keep how much I value these relationships at the forefront of my mind. There are many important as well as trivial things that occupy my time and my thoughts, but I am willing to prioritize the relationships that are important to me starting with my immediate family, extended family and friends. Memories of our connections – how we met, the things we’ve done and said – these are the things I cherish in every relationship that I been blessed to have. I have been molded and shaped by precious connections both past and present so I am intent on cherishes my relationships.

How about you? Do you have relationships that you value? Are they in the past or in the present? How do you nurture the relationships you care about? I would love to hear from you.

“Cherish your human connections – your relationships with friends and family.” – Barbara Bush

Grandparents with Bride and Groom

What Do You See?

~ boydwilsonpat ~ Leave a comment

It’s weird to me that you don’t realize how much your vision has changed until you get a new pair of glasses. It’s like the room lights up or gets brighter with your new lens. It’s really amazing the difference it can make. Yet, we may put off getting an eye exam until we have to admit we aren’t seeing things as clearly as we should. That was me; I put off eye surgery until it was evident that I couldn’t see clearly enough to drive or read among other things. I had no choice I had to do something about my vision.

Have you ever asked yourself, what am I not seeing? Even when we have 20/20 vision, we may not be seeing things as clearly as we should or understand what we do see. In the early years of my marriage, I remember my husband, who is a fine artist, trying to get me to see the many colors of green in nature. At first, I couldn’t see it. Green was green, but finally I began to notice the distinctions between dark green, light green, yellow green, and so forth. For the first time all the colors in a box of crayons made sense to me. I’m serious, I always asked myself why anyone needed more than eight crayons; a box of twenty-four or more was crazy to me. There were all these varied colors around me, but I was not seeing them. Whenever someone would point out something that I hadn’t seen or noticed I would simply say, “I’m not a visual person, I’m more of an auditory person.” The truth was probably I didn’t want to see it or didn’t care enough to look.

I wonder how many other people are like that. They either don’t see or can’t see the world around them. Perhaps they have never been challenged to really look for the subtle nuisances like my husband challenged me to see the color green. Perhaps they need a corrective lens to truly see the things around them. Or maybe they believe it is crazy to care about such things – that involvement and participation is like a box of sixty-four crayons, too excessive. However, if a positive difference is going to be made in our Beloved Community we must refocus our eyes and understand what’s really happening around us, around our children, and around our world not just globally but communally.

Certain life events have a way of opening our eyes. The Pandemic was one of those events. It not only helped us to see how quickly disease could spread, but it also helped us to see the education of our children in a different light. It showed us the vulnerability of the senior citizens in our community, and it exposed the necessity and sacrifice of what we now call “first responders” and “critical workers.” It also showed us how rural areas were cut off from necessary resources including technology. Our eyes were opened to mental health issues in every age group as well. For sure, the Pandemic made us see some things for the first time. However, many of those things were right before our eyes before the Pandemic and are still quite visible after the Pandemic so we have to ask ourselves “What am I not seeing and why am I not seeing it?”

Grief is raging in the lives of families who have suffered lost whether by natural disasters, accidents, or unexpected violence. Fear has a grip on our children and our senior adults because the definition of safety is ever changing. Scarcity is challenging the security of families whose jobs no longer offer longevity or elevation in pay or position. Every community is experiencing a shortage of peace offices, firefighters, nurses, and teachers. Politics on all sides has become a competition of rhetoric and citizens are becoming disillusioned with the whole process. So, what are we looking at and what will it take for us to see what is really going on? More importantly, how are we going to respond to what we see? And if you are an auditory person like me, how will we respond to what we hear?

I’ve learned from my husband and my art instructor that lighting makes a big difference in how a work is perceived. When the light is right it can highlight the details, but when it’s not right it can cause the observer to miss the details and other components of the art. Perhaps we are waiting for others to shine the light on the needs of our community but waiting has a price that we cannot afford. If we treasure our families and our communities, we must be willing to take a good look around us and activate our citizenry through volunteerism, through civic involvement, through educating others, and through challenging everyone in our sphere of influence to do the same.

What do I see? I see opportunities to do better. I see legacy in our elders. I see possibilities in posterity. I see work for my hands to do. What about you? What do you see? I would love to hear from you.

The color green is associate with nature, growth, and vitality. Figuratively, I hope we will all see more of the color green in our world. Peace and Restoration.

World Building

~ boydwilsonpat ~ Leave a comment

In an author’s life world building is about the back story, setting, and atmosphere where the characters come to life. We create a world out of pure fantasy or by capturing an actual historical place. World building has its place in every genre. In some cases, the world of a story has a life of its own; this is particularly evident in Sci-fi and Gothic stories. Thinking about world building is something I do all the time, but not just for writing. I believe many of us do think about world building and also dream about it, even if we don’t do anything about it. We all want something out of our world that will bring satisfaction, achievement, and accomplishment. It’s called the “Pursuit of Happiness.”

From my teens through my college years, I dreamed of the world I wanted to live in. It included a small farmhouse, a few horses, a couple of dogs, and about ten children. I remember writing the names of those ten kids in my journal – six girls and four boys. The farm would encompass about three or four acres so I could have orchards and a very large vegetable garden. The whole thing would be fenced in by a white latticed fence and my children and animals could run freely all across the property. The house would sit right in the middle of those acres giving me privacy from my neighbors and road traffic. Of course, I would be a famous author and travel to the big city when needed. I truly believed this dream would come true if I kept the vision in my heart and mind (as well as my journal). I still think about that world today and part of it still appeals to me (minus the ten kids. lol) Needless to say it never happened. Why? Because I never put feet to it. I didn’t pursue any of it; I just dreamed and hoped for it.

Our world is a lot like that today. We dream and hope for a better world, a better environment, and a better life but we really don’t pursue it. We talk about it. We complain about it. We even throw up our hands in defeated doubt about it, but we rarely do anything about it. We seem to have forgotten that our world exists on every level because somebody put action to their hopes and dreams. Every community, every building, every machine, and yes, every riot, war, and charitable organization had a world builder behind it. Often times it starts with something small perhaps staking a claim on a small parcel of land or trying to make a laborious task easier and safer. Or maybe it started with a plan to get from point A to point B just a little faster. Real world builders are motivated by creating change and impacting the lives of others (including their own).

On a small scale, many of us are world builders. We try to make our lives successful according to cultural standards. We buy certain homes, and pursue certain careers or jobs, and join certain organizations all with the hope of a better or good life. We network and participate on social media platforms in order to project our arrival and aspirations for a better existence in our world. We choose our associates and life partners to support the image of this good life. These pursuits require a daily grind to keep up our fabricated world. Unfortunately, there are flaws and cracks in this system of world building with an ever-changing social and political culture. Too often, this world is not truly the world we hoped it would be.

For me, world building starts at home. While it’s not the farmhouse I once dreamed of, it is my sanctuary. I set out to have a peaceful and comfortable home. I wanted everyone who entered our domain to feel that it was a place of welcome and peace. I wanted every room to feel like a place where loving living took place. Of course, it had to start with my family first. I wanted my husband, my children, and later my grandchildren, my mom and mother-in-law to look forward to coming and being at home. There was and is no forbidden furniture. There are no off-limit communal spaces, and everyone was permitted to add to the decor of their personal spaces. Everyone had the ability to seclude themselves from others depending on their personal needs after long days at school or work. This meant my house was not spotless (nor will it ever be) and all the rooms are designated for living and enjoying a tranquil family life. This included the family and friends we invited into our space.

What about the broader scale? Things like being a good neighbor; keeping our properties and communities clean; demonstrating common courtesy to all people; investing in the next generation; utilizing our right to vote; and participating in charity opportunities as well as civic organizations. Things like mentoring children and teens and serving the elderly can be a part of world building. We can attribute to positive change in our world by supporting teachers and first responders. We can write our congress and other governmental officials. Most of all we can take action rather than giving up on the possibility of a better world

Our daily lives are not like the world in a novel where one person makes all the decisions and determines all the conditions. We have some options we can utilize. We can be and should be contributors to the building of our world from the smallest local level to the broader levels of society. “It takes a village” is not just about raising children, it’s also about raising the expectations of our culture and community through collaboration, empathy, values, goal setting, safety regulations, effective communications, and civil laws and responsibility. We can be builders of a better world one day at a time, one action at a time. Let’s all put feet to our hopes and dreams of a better tomorrow for the next generation.

“Do all the good you can, by all the means you can, in all the ways you can, in all the places you can, at all the times you can, to all the people you can, as long as ever you can.” – John Wesley As always, your comments are welcomed.

May you have the tools to build a world where all the characters may exist in love and unity. Peace and Restoration.

Photo by Engin Akyurt on Pexels.com

Fighting Loneliness

~ boydwilsonpat ~ Leave a comment

Can you believe I’ve never felt loneliness like this before? I’ve always had a friend or a relative, I could turn to when I needed someone. I guess being an only child helped me to see aloneness as a plus. It’s typically a familiar place of content. I always had my books and my pets to keep me company. Yet, in these beginning days of summer, I find myself experiencing loneliness.

I don’t feel isolated like during the pandemic, and I’m certainly not friendless. My immediate family is very near, and my closest friends are just a phone call away. I also have mobility of body and transportation. Yet, I have a loneliness of soul. It feels like all my confidantes are gone – like all those persons who knew me inside out are deceased. I find myself longing to talk to them, to be with them. I miss the comradery of just sitting in their presence. We didn’t have to speak. We could just be. To be honest, maybe it’s not loneliness, maybe it’s grief. Loneliness and grief seem to go hand in hand if the people you long for are gone from your life.

The other day my grandson stopped by to say goodbye before starting his round-the-world trip to Oregon. We talked about all of the stops he planned to make along the way. When he said, Tennessee, he paused. Then he said he remembered how we went to Memphis every year to see Uncle Fred. He said, “I miss that, I miss him.” Me too. I miss my Uncle Fred so much. He was always glad to see me – all of us – and he never failed to welcome us into his home, into his pride-filled loving deportment. Sometimes we’d sit on the patio and watch his cats chase one another. The sweet smell of bougainvillea clinging to the air and the drone of the TV in the room behind us brought such peace and comfort to me. That kind of quiet and love was found on the porches of so many of my great relatives, I miss that the most.

I wonder if my ninety-three-year-old mom feels this loneliness since the world has changed so much in her lifetime. I wonder if she’s lonely for the friends and family she has outlived. I wonder if she misses the traditions of writing and receiving letters and cards or eating tomato sandwiches while talking about childhood adventures. She talks about people from her past a lot and she loves to explain old pictures of herself and her cousins.

Personally, I miss the smells of great-grandma’s kitchen and the smell of Prince Albert from great-grandpa’s pipe. I miss the humming of my grandmother’s no-name songs and the whine and tang of my grandfather’s voice. I miss the flowers that my cousin used to draw while we sat on my great aunt’s porch fanning flies. I miss writing letters and sharing my dreams with an aunt who called me her Aunt Tricia. I miss seeing my godmother and the quilts that she made with her church friends. All those days are gone and there’s no way to get them back because the people and the places are gone. Memories are nice, but they leave a sense of loneliness that nothing in my life today can fill.

I guess that’s why I write nostalgic fiction and narrative poetry. It helps me recapture the familiar. It helps me fight the loneliness. It brings those memories from yester-year into the present. I’m so thankful for old photos, letters, and cards that make me smile and feel the closeness of those old days. It’s like a hug from the past. That’s why it is so important to me that we (all of us) share our family stories with each generation. We shouldn’t let these memories die. Here’s a quote from Paul Tsongas, I like, “We are a continuum. Just as we reach back to our ancestors for our fundamental values, so we, as guardians of the legacy, must reach ahead to our children. And we do so with a sense of sacredness in that reaching.”

I’ve learned to fight loneliness in my own way. Trust me, these are not recommendations for anyone; it is just what works for me. I read the letters and cards that I’ve saved over the years. I share family pictures with my relatives and ask them to share pictures with me. I talk to elderly people in the community and ask them about their lives and experiences. I take walks in cemeteries. I read the epitaphs and dates on the headstones. I save and re-read obituaries. I read southern gothic literature. I participate in family reunions and call on my living relatives and friends. Lastly, I allow myself to cry when I feel sad and lonely.

I guess we all deal with loneliness from time to time, but we don’t have to deal with it alone. Let someone know how you are feeling. Writing can be cathartic too. There is always help in our Beloved community. If you would like to share how you fight loneliness, I’d love to hear it. Peace and Safety to all.

No Regrets

~ boydwilsonpat ~ Leave a comment

Today I received a survey from my undergraduate alma mater. It asked questions about the foundations taught there and whether they helped me in life today. At first, I thought that was so long ago, I have no idea; but, to my surprise I remember a lot. My experience had been great and challenging. I remember my professors and classmates. Indeed I learned a lot that I still use today. I learned how to do research, write nonfiction essays and public speaking. I also learned other skills such as keeping a budget and utilizing my time wisely. There was so much more to my college experience than academics. The final survey question was: “Would you choose this college again, if you had the choice today?” I answered absolutely. I have no regrets. I would recommend that my college to anyone. (The Master’s University in California)

Wouldn’t it be great if we could say we don’t have any regrets at all? Unfortunately, regret seems to be a part of life. Whether it’s due to difficulties in relationships, poor career choices, personal habits, or failure to move when the opportunity presented itself, we all have some regret. The bigger question is, what have we learned? Have we grown, remained the same, or degenerated. I certainly hope I’ve grown; I try to live with no regrets.

As some of you know, I have been a care provider for many years. It began with my grandchildren and eventually included my grandmother and my mother-in-law. My husband and I have been a part of “The Sandwich Generation.” That’s when you are sandwiched between generations as a care provider. We had our grandchildren and our parents to take care of on a daily basis making us the middle of the sandwich. While everyday was not an easy day, we tried to make sure everyone felt loved and seen. We worked hard to offer the best quality of life that was possible for our infirmed elders and for our growing adolescents. We never let wheelchairs or highchairs stop us from laughing with or loving our family. The blessing in that is now we can look back with no regrets.

I have shared things about my relationship with my mom in the past. Eventually, the whole story will come out. (lol) Today, I just want to share one incident. When I was in my late twenty’s my mother came to visit me in Arizona. It was the first time we spent time together in a number of years. She still lived in Ohio. At any rate, as we were standing in the airport for her departure, I heard a voice clearly say, “You need to make amends because you will have to take care of her someday.” Well, to some degree that seemed obvious, after all I am an only child, but for some reason this message seemed to hold a deeper meaning. I cried, I prayed, and I tried to define the kind of care my mother would need so I could be prepared. As you well know, there are some things you just can plan for. Since I don’t want to get off track from the topic at hand, I’ll just bullet point some live events:

  • Mom’s dad, my grandfather, had a paralyzing stroke
  • Her mom, my grandmother, was losing her sight to glaucoma
  • Mom experienced a double home invasion
  • We moved all of them to Georgia (my mom, grandmother and grandfather)
  • My grandfather died in a nursing home
  • My grandmother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s Disease

The day came when I knew my mom was in over her head. The stress of driving twenty miles to see my grandfather in his nursing home and taking care of my grandmother who was oppositional was taking its toll on her health. I realized if I didn’t step in, I was going to lose my mother too. My grandfather and grandmother were lost to me because Alzheimer’s had taken them away. I couldn’t stand by and let stress and exhaustion take my mother away. I needed to take care of her. The simplest way was to move her and my grandmother in with us. So, we sold our house (the house I loved) and she sold her house (the house she loved), and we bought the monstrosity we now live in. The grandchildren brought new life to my mom. She loved taking care of the baby while I dealt with my grandmother,

Maybe I’ll tell the rest of this story in the future. The point is, my mom and I have no regrets. We each took care of our loved ones to the best of our ability. We made decisions with their best interest in mine. The sacrifices we made allowed all of us to have a better quality of life. Now we live with the satisfaction that nothing was left undone or unsaid. There is no “wish I would have”, or “we should have”, or “if we could do that over” drama in our lives. We capitalized on giving everyone what they needed and some of what they wanted while giving ourselves permission to human. We ate cake, took vacations, celebrated holidays and holy days, ran a business, and nurtured our souls. It wasn’t easy, but it was living with laughter and love. I can honestly answer the survey question; I would do it all again.

The times I’ve had with my mom as an adult outweigh the hard times of my childhood. We’ve had so many wonderful trips and taking so many great pictures together, but more importantly we have survived many hardships together. At ninety-three she is slowing down. Dementia is knocking at the door. Mobility was modified by a stoke this past December. Still we’re taking a trip in July and looking forward to making more fond memories. We’re still too busy living to have regrets. I can tell you, I’m so thankful for that voice telling me I would have to take care of my mom. The reality is we take care of each other.

While I was working on this blog, I dreamed about death one night. I woke up thinking how regrets torment people when a loved one dies, and death can come at any time. Things left unsaid, unresolved conflict, or a wish that things had been different lead to regret. We have a chance to change all that while everyone is alive and breathing. Express love, forgive, find closure, do a good deed, extinguish your pride and live without remorse. That’s one less burden you have to carry. It’s just another game of “Show and Tell.” “Live, Love, Laugh” can be done, it’s a personal choice.

Mom and I enjoying our vacation

Talk From the Family Tree

~ boydwilsonpat ~ Leave a comment

Imagine sitting at the feet of your elders and ancestors hearing their stories and conversations and discovering the origin of your life. Visualize seeing the expressions on their faces and hearing each tale firsthand for the very first time. I was a little girl eavesdropping on grownup conversations, trying to understand the connection of the past to the present. This new book, a collection of short stories and poetry, tries to capture the intimate conversations retold year after year for every generation.

It’s my pleasure to share my latest book with you. Your encouragement and support of my writing is priceless. Thank you for following my blog and the books I’ve authored.

Available on Amazon today.

The Far Away Place

~ boydwilsonpat ~ 2 Comments

Have you ever found your body present in a location and yet you felt far away? I don’t just mean your thoughts are far away from the position of your body, but all of you feels at a distance from everyone and everything around you. It’s almost like you are watching yourself from another dimension. That’s how I’ve been feeling lately – far, far away. Sometimes I see myself moving from project to project or room to room without making a connection with anything around me. This could be compassion fatigue. It could be a defense mechanism or perhaps it’s depression. Maybe it is simply an emotional disconnect to protect myself from the next harsh thing, but it feels like a distant place.

While I was away, I worked on writing and finishing my latest book of short stories and poetry, Talk from the Family Tree. (It’s in the editing process now.) I also worked in the classroom with my elementary school students, my GED students, and my Life Class participants. I’m not sure how much of this was ritual and habit, and how much was innovative teaching. There were days I tried to zone out at home on video games or TV shows such as holiday cooking contests. I prepared meals for the family, petted and walked my dogs, washed clothes, and read a couple of books. Still, I felt absent and far away from every task. I was moving along the continuum of my life without truly participating in my life. I missed my blog, and I missed my friends. I also missed loving routines and conversations with my family. The only thing I was truly able to focus on was crocheting. I made a lap mat for a friend’s birthday, and a loop scarf for a holiday gift. Now I’m working on a winter scarf and hat.

Crocheting forced me to concentrate on the stitches and the number of rows needed to complete the items. It takes my mind off worrisome issues like critical health issues of family members and the death of a legacy member of our community. Crocheting is a land of double crochet, single crochet, turn begin new row. Yet, I would use up a skein without realizing it and have to pull some of my work out to add a new skein. I was always shocked that the thread ran out without warning. So, I guess I wasn’t fully there either.

Perhaps these feelings of being far away was just wishful thinking on my part. Sometimes I bring up some soothing instrumental jazz on YouTube with a warm cabin scene and a picture window to watch the rain or snow fall. There would a fireplace and a cup of coffee or hot chocolate on the table along with an overstuffed chair or couch. The fireplace and window are my favorite parts. I could easily picture myself sitting there enjoying the solitude, the scenery, and the music. These times are so peaceful I can feel myself relaxing just thinking about them. They remind me that the faraway place does exist and may be only a cabin rental away.

Some people would describe this state of away-ness as melancholy. According to the Oxford Dictionary, melancholy is “a feeling of pensive sadness, typically with no obvious cause.” While the Free Dictionary and the Merriam Webster Dictionary describes melancholy as “a gloomy state of mind, characterized by depression of spirits and dejection.” In ancient times melancholia was treated by bloodletting baths, exercise, and diet. Attempts were made to relieve the body of too much black bile. Some even theorized that melancholy came from the supernatural realm such as ghosts and demons. In that case a hole was drilled in the person’s head to release the evil spirits. Today, melancholy fits into a broad field of mental illnesses and is treated with talk therapy and/or antidepressants. While I am not a doctor, I know that research is ongoing to fine the cure and causes of major depressive disorder. Depression can stem from biological, psychological. and socio-emotional factors. No two cases are necessarily alike. Thank God we live in a time when the stigma is dying out and therapee is more readily available.

Am I depressed, or experiencing melancholy? I don’t think so. At least this does not feel like the bouts I’ve had with depression in the past. Maybe I just need a vacation from the rat race. Or perhaps I need some respite time away from being a caregiver, a teacher, or the “go-to” person. Perhaps I need to reinvent myself again. I do miss having my own business and calling my own shots. For certain, I need my Sabbath rest; being on 24/7 is not good for anyone. We’ve allowed multitasking and being connected to technology to take over our lives eliminating our time to renew, rest, and reflect. We need to give ourselves time to just “be.” I needed time to just “be.”

I am learning to allow myself to just “be.” I don’t need to over analyze my state of being, nor do I need to seek immediate changes in my lifestyle. I can simply trust my circadian rhythm to regulate the function of my mind and body. Intuitively and internally, my body and mind know when I need to rest, when I need nutrition, warmth, and natural light. Through the years I have learned how prayer and nature soothe my soul. I can rely on the Holy Scriptures to center and ground me when tests and trials challenge me. So, it’s okay to allow myself to retreat to the far away place until I’m ready to fully engage and connect to the here and now again. Afterall, I am still functioning in the present while my heart and spirit are shielded by the barrier of tranquility in a distance dimension. This is my coping mechanism nothing more, nothing less.

How do you give yourself a break from harsh realities? Do you meditate, exercise, go to a retreat center, call your parents, read poetry, cry in your bubble bath, or speed down the freeway like a race car driver leaving your troubles behind? How do you cope with unpleasant things and high demand? Do you see your therapist? Do you physically remove yourself or mentally disconnect? I would love to hear from you.

Shalom and Happy Holidays and Holy Days.

PS: Here’s a couple of titles you may enjoy reading:

Community = Common Unity

~ boydwilsonpat ~ 2 Comments

“Community” is on the lips of every local politician and every civic organization. Whether schools, churches, or mosques we all want to see stronger communities; but what do we mean by community. When we say community where are the boundaries and borders? Is it a one block radius around my house, or the whole area of the housing development? Is it the designated name of an area used by voting districts or property taxes, or is it the area used for postal services by zip code? In smaller towns is it the whole town or just the city limits? Perhaps it is time define or redefine community for everyone.

If you study the etymology of the word community you will find its origins in Latin, and Old French. In Latin it is the word “communis” meaning the same and “communitas.” meaning common, public, shared by all or many. Our English word community is an adaptation of these words from the Old French word “communaute” which refers to public spirit or commonality. Outside of the fact that I love studying the historic context of words it always interests me that most words we consider to be “American” are actually borrowed words from other languages. Needless to say, over time words seem to take on new meanings and lose their intended and original definition. So, allow me to simplify the meaning of community for this blog post as derived from this background: Community equals Common Unity,

Several weeks ago, a huge oak tree fell in my front yard. We were lucky that it fell at an angle, so it didn’t hit our home or the homes of our neighbors. It did fall across the street and left limbs and debris in our neighbors’ yards as well as blocked the entire street. A young man came over from the end house and offered to help my husband clean up the debris and cut and remove the tree. It turned out that he owned a tree cutting and removal business. Another neighbor from the cul-de-sac came with power saw in hand to help with the cleanup too. The young business owner finished the job of removing the fallen tree and proceeded to cut bad limbs on other trees in our yard. He also pruned my crepe myrtles and inspected other trees on our property. When my neighbor to my left came home there was no evidence that our tree had left limbs and leaves all over her yard. It turned out that this young businessman who was relatively new to the neighborhood has helped people all over the neighborhood. When asked what was really in it for him, he said, “This is my community it’s our job to help one another.” Imagine that. This young man saw our entire development as his community.

That fact is disaster has a tendency to draw a community together. Floods, hurricanes, fires, all these things bring families and neighbors together because they are experiencing “communitas.” Trauma, grief, upheaval, and lost is the commonality that brings everyone together. Differences are put aside. Unity of purpose is understood in terms of survival and rebuilding. This is commendable, but also temporary. I am always amazed how people come together from all over the country to help individuals in these disastrous situations. Yet, why should it take catastrophe to remind us that we are one community.

Before calamity happens, we have a common unity. Every parent wants a good education and a safe environment for their children. Every bread winner wants to make enough money to take care of their families. Renters want to become owners. Owners want to maintain their property values. Everyone wants to have nourishment and clean water to drink. All people need clothes appropriate for the weather and affordable housing. Healthcare and retirement income are all common needs amidst the aging. Everyone sheds tears at the loss of a loved one. Everyone is pursuing happiness – the so-called American dream. These are not political talking points; these are community needs. These are the things we have in common with our neighbors and others who live in our region. These are reasons for us to relate to one another and to help one another. If you really think about it, we have more in common than we have as differences. Pain, fear, hope, dreams, struggle, thriving are all part of our common experiences.

Rather than allowing politics, racism, sexism, classism, and other social economic circumstances to polarize us why can’t our commonalities unify us? We breathe the same air. We walk or drive the same streets. We have the same desires for our families. This is not rhetoric; look around our world. Here’s the reality and if we are not careful, we will create more disasters to draw us into unnatural communities. Let’s remember our common unity before things around us get worst. We should build our community to make it stronger by stepping in to help in any way that we can. Like the young businessman I mentioned above, we can use our expertise to make our communities better. Like the neighbors that came to help us, we can use our collective efforts to fix and clean up our shared space.

It’s time to unify. It’s time to be a real community. It’s time to capitalize on our common unity. PEACE!

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