June 21, 2023 - A New Adventure

It is a Wednesday and, finally, one without rain. It has been raining steadily for the past 2 weeks and this break of good fortune could not have come at a better time.

My aunt, Cherie, is flying in from Florida this evening for a surprise 80th birthday party for my mother this coming Saturday. I was supposed to bring my wheelchair-bound mother, Mary, to the Bangor International Airport to pick her up but her flight was delayed a few times. It was just over a year ago she flew in for my dad, her brother’s, funeral. The week she spent with my mother was full of hugs, tears, food and much laughter. Little Sister, as my mother calls her, had been missed in the last few decades. My parents did not travel. Rather, my father really wasn’t healthy enough to travel especially in the last ten years of his life. Heart attacks, RLS, high blood pressure…it would have been too hard on him.

My mother stayed with him, took care of him and catered to his every whim. His eyesight was steadily declining along with his weight and quality of life. I like to think now that he is free of pain looking down on us from on high with 20/20 vision.

During all 60 years they were together, my mother put my father first whether it was a television show or movie, what they ate for breakfast and dinner or who took the first shower. She did all the cooking and cleaning. In the last years she bathed him with sponge baths, cut his hair, kept his medications in order and put lotion on his dry skin. I was able to witness on more than one occasion after the lotion was well rubbed in to his hands the two meeting with a big kiss signaling the end of grooming before my mother would sit back in her wheelchair and my father back towards the kitchen table.

I miss that.

While it might not be the way of today, I try to emulate my mother in that regard. I do the cooking and cleaning in the home while my husband, Chad, takes care of the outside. He mows, weed whacks, snow blows, sprays for spiders and other bugs, keeps the cars maintained and, sometimes, will water my flowers. (I forget…a lot) He goes so far as to mow the two houses around ours as they are vacant and wants to make sure mice don’t start showing up on our doorstep. I often wonder if he would like to trade with me but I’m sure he thinks laundry is the deal breaker. I don’t blame him.

So why this little peek into my life right now?

You would think my posts on Facebook would be sufficient but those are mostly pictures of our children, posts of where my band is playing, our bass fishing happenings and cats. My cat, Charley, does make his fair share of appearances.

I do love cats.

Maybe this peek is because writing helps me put my feelings into words. I write all the time: Notes on scraps of paper, ideas on the back on an envelope, texts to myself, emails to myself so as not forget things to do, song lyrics in the middle of the night. All the time. I have notebooks lying around in every room of the house. There are so many thoughts in my head that I just need to get them out.

It could also come as I start back to school this Monday on my mother's actual 80th birthday. I have an Associate's Degree in Accounting but having a Bachelor's Degree in Creative Writing and English would serve me better. My first step toward that goal is a bit intimidating but my parents always said I could do whatever I set my mind to. Actually, my dad said I had "It". My mom says I "step in it" each time something good happens to me. In reality, it's my choices that give me what I want...with a little help from God thrown in. He has a way of steering me in the right direction.

I, as my husband says, am animated. In my walk, talk, mannerisms, voice...I am a walking, talking, singing cartoon character. With this much enthusiasm inside it has to be brought out in a creative way.

It's best not to be creative with numbers. That can get you into heaps of trouble.

Learning how to be a better writer has always been a goal of mine. Here is to a new chapter in my Book of Life I am writing: A new day, a new story, a new ending and a new beginning.

Queenie - The Dog Who Would Be Queen

 My mother, Mary, is one of eight children. For a family of ten all under one roof life on Prospect Street in Stamford, Connecticut, wasn’t easy. When I inquired where it was located she told me “the wrong side of the tracks”. I decided to take a look and, well, she was right: it wasn’t in the best part of town. My mother always said they didn’t have much but what they had was enough.

Still, life was good. My grandmother, Fanny, was a stay at home mom while my grandfather, Daniel, worked as a brakeman for the railroad. He assisted the conductor, switched tracks when necessary and applied the brakes to the train when needed. His job was especially important because he worked overnight. My grandparent’s lifestyle bled into my mother’s own adult life when she married my father. He was a night worker who drove trucks. 

When residing in the “bad part of town”, being a woman with eight children and not having your husband home at night in the 1940s was a potentially dangerous situation. Luckily, one day they brought home a new member of the family of the four-legged kind that would provide a little security to the household. 

Queenie was a female, smooth-haired, Whippett-Terrier mix. She was white with a black saddle and very lean. She quickly became the family’s best friend. My mother once said she bit Queenie and the dog bit her back. That’s what she got for biting a dog, she said. Grandmother Fanny felt much safer with a dog in the home. This way the dog could alert them to anything or anyone who shouldn’t be hanging around. She slept better at night because of it.

When my mother was about eight years old she remembers Fanny giving Daniel a kiss goodbye and closing the door as he went off to work with his lunchbox. That night everything was normal. Doors were locked, kids were in bed sleeping and Queenie was snoozing in the living room.

Around midnight a man who had a bit too much to drink (or as my mother said “he was loaded”) mistook their house as someone else’s he knew. Could have been his own. No one really knows for sure. He was pounding on the door. Queenie started barking. Fanny told the man to go away but he persisted. He was yelling for the door to be opened and pounding the door even harder. As you can imagine all nine residents were very frightened. So Fanny did what she thought best.

She opened the door and shouted “Get ‘em, Queenie!” and the dog went after the man!

She could see the man run away as fast as he could but Queenie chased him across the street then across the ball field (which is now the interstate). Fanny lost sight of her in the dark. She anxiously waited for the dog to return. The kids were worried she would never come back.

But come back she did.

With the seat of the man’s pants in her mouth!

That dog was heralded in the house that night as the true “queen” she was! “Good dog!” and “Yay Queenie!” were heard over and over as they petted her in gratitude for the tremendous deed she had done. She wasn’t sure what all the attention was about but she was certainly happy with all the love she was receiving. 

While my mother was at school the next day, Daniel returned from the night shift. Fanny told him what had happened. He couldn’t believe it! Who would have thought the little dog would be such a big protector. The man never returned and no one ever bothered their house again.

One Mom’s Dream Passed to Her Son

I didn’t plan it. I didn’t push it on him. It was something he started to take interest in at school. When he started telling me about what he was doing, I thought “He’s just like me.”

At the age of twelve, my quest in life was to become an astronaut. It was just before the Space Shuttle Challenger disaster that took the life of school teacher Christa McAuliffe that my interests began to sway toward Astronomy. The stars were all I could think about. I studied the constellations, the phases of the moon and anything else I could get my hands on within books. I stayed outside at night just to look at them.

When I was in sixth grade, there was no internet and no readily handy ways to get information quickly. To do that I would have had to walk to the library for encyclopedias or books however my parents wouldn’t let me venture out alone. Fairfield, Maine was much different from where I started to grow up. Milford, Connecticut was a busy city while Fairfield was a small town. We had moved a few years earlier and mom and dad were still adjusting. My parents held onto the fear of their children being abducted in the streets. Going any where alone was forbidden. My knowledge was limited on space but I still thirsted for it.

Fast forward to today, my son, Anderson, has a uncanny interest in space just like I had. In fourth grade, he wrote small books on almost every planet and the moon for his fellow students to read. He wanted them to learn about them as much as he had. They were complete with title and pictures.

It hasn’t stopped there. We now watch the rocket launches on our television, movies that involve space (Star Wars, October Sky) and watch the meteor showers at night. The Perseid Meteor Shower is coming up this weekend. We won’t be able to watch it together on Saturday but we will on Sunday night. That will involve laying in the back of the car under blankets to stare into the night sky together and talk…about everything.

These are special moments with him I’ll never forget. Yesterday, I remembered getting in the mail when I was twelve a copy of a book that had to do with Dr. Robert Goddard, the engineer and physicist that built the first liquid-fueled rocket. Someone in my family, and I can’t remember who, sent me the book of the Goddard Rocket and Space Museum in Roswell, New Mexico. I recall reading it over and over. I found it this morning and sat down with Anderson.

I went on to tell him that my dream was to become an astronaut like him. Right away he told me I couldn’t do that because I get motion sickness. He is right. I can’t.

But he CAN.

I gave him the book I cherished so much and, with tears in my eyes, I told him “I want you to always be what you want to be. Never let anyone tell you that you can’t. Because you CAN.”

On the back of the book something caught his eye. “Mama, look!”  I followed his finger to the back cover.

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. The back cover had a red stamp on it that read:

COMPLIMENTS OF THE U.S. SENATE

COMMITTEE ON AERONAUTICAL AND SPACE SCIENCES

CHAIRMAN: SENATOR CLINTON P. ANDERSON, NEW MEXICO

Clinton is the town where we live and, of course, his name is Anderson. He became so excited and said “I think this is what I’m supposed to do.”

I think it is, too, and I’ll do everything I can to help him fulfill his dream.

To My Stepdaughter...From Your Stepmom

I have known you since the day I met your father. I fell in love with him that very minute. I think it’s safe to say I have loved you since that day as well.

You see, I never had a daughter of my own. I was blessed to have a son who is the same age as you. God’s plan for me was to have only one biological child but I believe He meant for me to love many children.

You are one of those.

It isn’t hard to do. You are a smart, funny, charming, beautiful 10 year old young lady and the apple of your daddy’s eye. You say the funniest things out of the blue, you forget things easily and you’re a very good student and artist. The look on your father’s face when he gets to see you is like no other. His face literally lights up. The sun rises and sets with you according to him. As his princess, you can do no wrong.

But you do.

When it happens he has to discipline you. He hates that. He feels terrible when it’s happening and like total crap when he sees your sad, puppy dog eyes.

For me, I see the love he has for you and I see the same you have for your daddy. You hug him out of the blue. You draw him silly pictures. You step on his feet and have him walk around with you as you smile up to his face. You know your daddy loves you.

I wonder if you see the love I have for you, too.

I know I’m always telling you to brush your teeth, brush your hair and pick up after yourself. I know it seems like I’m nagging but, if you notice, I tell the same thing to my son. I try to treat you equally. I’m not always successful.

I ask you to help set the table, load and unload the dishwasher and load and unload the dryer. I tell the same thing to my son, too. You’re both 10 and are able to help around the house. That includes feeding the pets, vacuuming and cleaning the bathroom. You are always willing to help. There are even times when you ask to help.

How did I get so lucky?

One of the fun things I get to do with you is bake. I know you love to bake cupcakes and pies. I ask you to help and you put on your special apron and we do it together. I actually think you are better than me.

You also like to sew. Santa brought you the sewing machine at Christmas and we have spent quality time together making a stuffed Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, pillows and a bunch of little things. Soon I hope to teach you how to quilt. Maybe the one you make you’ll take to college with you one day to keep you warm.

Another thing is cooking. When I say “You’re cooking tomorrow” your eyes light up and you automatically plan a menu and what we will need to make it. We head to the store the next day and buy our ingredients and I teach you as much as I know about your choice of dish. To tell you a secret, you always pick things I have never cooked before so I google it during the day so we can make it that night.

See? You are helping me learn things I never knew before.

The hardest part for me is how girly you can be. Growing up, I never learned anything about makeup, ribbons, French braids and the colors pink and purple. I grew up as a tomboy and I still am for the most part. You match your outfits much better than I can. When we go school shopping, your taste in clothes blows me away.  At least we share a love of shoes!

Soon, you’ll be at the age where boys will start to be “interesting” and they will be interested in you. Your father will be on edge with ANY boy that is mentioned, written in a heart on your notebook or calls to talk to you. You’ll be asking me questions. I didn’t date until I was sixteen so I wonder what kind of help I can be to you when you start to ask for advice. I hope you feel comfortable enough to come to me when you do have questions and I hope I will be able to answer them for you. And I won’t tell dad about our conversations unless I’m worried about you. There is such a thing as Girl Code.

I know you have a mom. I know you love her very much and it’s obvious she loves you, too. You are always excited to see her when she picks you up for the weekend. I always try to make sure to send her pics of you when you are with me if you’re doing something silly or if you drew a cool picture. I also send her texts of things coming up in your life that, if she can make it, she is always invited to. I hope she enjoys them. It’s know hard for me when my son spends time with his dad and I don’t get the communication of pictures or texts. I try to make it a little easier on your mom. I hope I’m showing you that, even though divorce happens, if it ever happens to you, you can be the bigger person. It may not always feel good but God will reward you for the good things you do.

Speaking of God, I hope you hear me talk about Him. He is a huge part of my life. I would never push my religion on you. That is for you to decide. But I am glad you have an open heart. You see me and my son say prayers before every meal and before bedtime. You see us at church and when you ask to come along you voluntarily participate with the other kids. I know the young ladies enjoy spending time with you and the ladies of the church think you are bright and talented. You also see us doing God’s work. When we do things like clean up our road in the spring, hold open doors people and use our manners we feel good. When you see your dad helping our neighbors with their yard work or catching their pets that have runaway, that’s also God’s work. I always say that God’s work is doing for others and not expecting anything in return. You’re doing it out of the goodness of your heart. And there is a lot of goodness inside YOU.

You are officially my stepdaughter. That’s what the world gives you as a title. No matter what they call you, I will treat you like you are my own daughter. I will love you like you are my own daughter. When you’re hurt, I’m hurt. When you’re happy, I’m happy. There will be times when you’re older that you’ll be mad at me for disciplining you or having you pick up your room and you’ll scream “You’re not my mother!” and slam your door. I’ll expect that and it will hurt me. I’ll let it go because that’s all I can do.  I know that won’t be the reason you’re mad at me. Just know that I will be there for you in every way possible as long as you’ll have me. 

I love your father. You are a part of him. I love you, too. I am so glad he brought you into my life. I have enjoyed watching you grow into the wonderful young woman you are and I can’t wait to see what your life brings you. We will always be there for you and will always try to do our best to do what’s right for you. 

A Baseball Mom's Story

"Attitude is a little thing that makes a big difference."-Winston Churchill

He was stuffing his mouth with the last two popcorn chicken Chad had made for lunch. We had been rushing around trying to finish our errands for the day. Sundays are busy for us. I pick up Anderson after church and try and visit my parents. Anderson loves to see them. Since they are housebound we travel to see them. They love his visits. Today my mom had him giggling about something. When we're there, he likes to help out. He changes the cat's water and brings them things they need from other rooms. He loves to talk with them. When we get ready to leave, he gives his Grammie a kiss and his Papa a firm handshake. And then a hug. He hasn't reached the age where hugs are not cool anymore. I hope he never does.

He grabbed his hat and I stuffed his glove in his bag and we piled into the car. For the next fifteen minutes it takes to get to practice, Anderson and I  discussed what it was he liked about baseball. Automatically he said "It's fun."

That's what it should be. It's what it starts out as for every child that picks up a ball and glove. If they're lucky, their coach will teach them the same thing.

At the beginning of practice, the kids were throwing to one another. There were new kids, seasoned pros and those in between. There were heated balls, rainbows and wild throws. After a few minutes the kids gather around Coach Dee who told them that "winning is great but it's not everything. The game should be fun."

They practiced grounders making sure they were "down and ready". Then it was pop flies Shouting "Mine!" & "I got it!", the kids were shagging them, stepping and throwing.

They practiced hitting plastic and rubber golf balls one child at a time while the others were in the outfield sliding across the gym floor to gather them up. The first one to hit the back wall would get a dollar. They were all swinging for the fences. After one batter finished they all scrambled to pick up as many as they could. There were seven boys at practice so they made quick work of  it.

On Anderson's turn, it became apparent he had approved from last year. His confidence had grown. He was more focused. His swing was more powerful.

He even tried pitching. He had a few nice pitches right over the plate.

Where did this kid come from?  He's growing not only as a player but as a young man. He's making choices, trying new things, finding himself and, for the most part, doing it without me. I am his driver to practice, his home catch practice partner and his cheerleader at his games.

Whatever he may lack in height he more than makes up for in his attitude. He's always smiling, always excited for practice and games. He amazes me every day. This game is something he loves, something he strives to be good at. I'm proud of the player he has become and the person he's become.

                              

Time...and the Little We Have Left

Growing up, you think nothing of time. Where it’s gone, when it’s coming or that exact moment: it doesn’t even cross your mind.

When you get older, it starts to take shape in the form of yesterday, today and tomorrow. Deadlines, alarm clocks and scheduling are ways we manage the time we have.

When you get to a certain age it takes the form of baby, present age and old age.

Today I am dealing with old age.

Not MY old age. Heck, I’m 41 and I still feel 20 and, in some cases, am still mistaken for it. Must be in the genes. My mother who will be 73 this year is Italian and has virtually no wrinkles. That’s a part of her I take after: good skin that ages and tans well. I guess you can say the height, too, as I am only 4’11”. My grandmothers would say I get that from them, too. She’s also pretty crafty and is good with a needle and thread. Me too. Just thinking about these things makes me realize all the sorts of things we do alike.

What I take after my dad in is my love of numbers, music and the ability to make things. I remember having math contests with him trying to solve math problems in our heads and see who got the right answer first. We still do that. Dad could build anything. I’m pretty good with a hammer and nail. I aced woodshop in school. Working with my hands has always been fun for me. Music, well, he excelled at that, too.  He once took my face in his hands and said I had something he didn’t have and that was ‘IT”. You know, the “IT” that it takes to make it one day. I’ll never forget that day. One of the three days in my life I’ve seen my father cry.

What I don’t take after from my parents is a habit they have. They smoke. At least my mom still does. My dad quit about a month ago. He’ll be 80 this year and he stopped a month ago.

My dad quit just before a hospital scare. He was having a hard time breathing. He couldn’t catch his breath and had to visit the VA hospital where he spent a week. He actually stopped smoking a few days before that because he was having a hard time breathing then. Now he is home and using oxygen every night. He has an oxygen monitor for his finger he uses everyday just to check his level. It comforts him to see anything above 90.

I am watching my parents slowly deteriorate. They’re not that old: almost 73 and 80. For residents of Maine, a person living into their 70s and 80s is not an uncommon thing. They grew up here, worked the land and I still see some in their 90s working out in their gardens, tilling up their lands for the summer crops and hay season.

My parents, however, were born in Connecticut in the city and moved here 33 years ago. It’s a funny story, actually. My parents decided to move to Maine because we had relatives here. The way they said they would remember how to get to their new home everyday was to live off the same number exit they lived off of on I-95 in Connecticut and that was Exit 35. So there we lived. They were always hard workers. My dad worked for McLean Trucking and my mom was a housekeeper. I can still fold a fitted sheet like she taught me.  When they finished working for the week, the weekends were always filled with projects. Mom always said “You’re father doesn’t know how to slow down.”

We enjoyed life. I grew up and graduated from Lawrence High School with honors. I have had very few different jobs but they have all lasted a long time. I am now a medical biller for the Maine Veterans' Homes in Augusta. I love what I do. See where that love of numbers comes in?

My father’s recent hospital stay scared us. I know parents won’t be around forever but now time has become sacred. Each and every phone call, house visit, request they make is met with an “I’ll be right over” or an “I’ll get that done and stop by tomorrow with it,” and an “I love you.”

Time.

The hourglass is running out.

I did a little research and asked some doctors I knew about end stage emphysema and COPD. It’s funny. I never really knew how to spell emphysema until recently. They said that since my dad stopped smoking just recently, he could have up to 4 years of life remaining. Had he not stopped, it was more likely 2.

2 years.

2 years of having a parent still with you.

Now, it could be more or less than 2 years. You never know what the body will do or when the good Lord will call to take a person home. Heck, he could live until he’s 100. He's pretty feisty that way and I wouldn't put it past him.

You just never know.

But 2 years?

What do you do?

Well, if you’re like me, you jump each time the telephone rings and you see it’s from your parents. You wonder if they’re calling to say hello or need anything or you wonder if they are in trouble and need help. You also jump each time you see the phone ring from your siblings during the day. My siblings don’t call me so to see the phone light up with their numbers jumps me. You never know if they are contacting you for a chat or a problem with your parent’s health.

If you’re like me, you pray a little more. And the things you pray about are different. I usually pray for my family, help with troubles and ask for forgiveness if I think I haven’t done all that I could that day. Now, even though I pray for family, I have been praying and asking God specifically to, if He has to take either of them, to make it gentle. To have them not suffer too much. Or at all.

If you’re like me, you prepare. Preparing is a weird thing to do. How do you prepare for something like death? They’ve prepared everything.  My parents have all of their affairs in order from the caskets, headstones, funeral home and will. They have put my brother as the executor. He’s a good man and always does for our parents. He’s the only son and the best son and brother all of us could ask for. There’s nothing really for me to do.

But prepare.

I know you can never prepare yourself for the death of a loved one but I have been able to be at peace with it. I know and believe that the last breath they breathe here on Earth will be the first breath they take in Heaven. Some don’t believe in that and that’s their choice. It gives me comfort though.

I guess the preparing I have to do is go on living. Each and everyday. Do I dread the day it happens? Oh, yes. Am I prepared for it? Kind of. Am I ready? Not really. Will I ever be?


No.

And that’s okay.

Talking with my husband yesterday, I told him my concerns. I cried. There was really nothing for him to say. But his being there and letting me tell him I was worried and scared was the best thing he could do. You need that person to talk to, to listen to you. And in the moments he’s not around, God is always there. I know He hears me, too.

So now we wait.

And prepare.

And continue our lives.

And use our time a little more wisely.

 

Sharon's Mother's Day

 

 

It was a long time ago when my parents moved to Maine (1983). When we journeyed north from our home in Connecticut, we left behind some of my mom's favorite things: her best friend, Paula Sposili, our next door neighbor Mrs. Barris' garden and dogwood trees.

 

My mom LOVES flowers and I do, too. My favorite is the tulip. With my busy schedule it's hard to find time to grow anything....except kid appetites!

 

This Mother's Day, I wanted to do something....not for me but for my family. Fedco, up the road, has their annual Tree Sale right before Mother's Day. I had always wanted to go.

 

So I did!

 

And I did what my parents did a long time ago.

 

You see, when my brother and sisters started having children, my parents found a way to incorporate them in their everyday life.

 

They planted trees and named them after George, Katherine and Jennifer. The trees grew very tall and, unfortunately, aren't there at 33 Western Avenue in Fairfield anymore. When my parents moved, the new owners eventually cut them down. That was truly a sad day when my parents drove by and saw they weren't there anymore.

 

At their new house, they decided to do it again. A new George, Katherine and Jennifer grow tall in their backyard once again.

 

There are many trees surrounding our property that were planted before we moved here so finding a spot for new trees was kind of difficult. I decided to take a slightly different route.

 

For Jayden, I bought a butterfly bush and planted it, as it said, next to the house so it would have full sunlight. For when it blooms, it will still never be as beautiful as she has grown to be.

 

For Bradley and Anderson, I picked Silver Maples. On windy days, their leaves will shimmer in the sunlight. For them, I hope they will remember there is always a silver lining to every situation.

 

And for myself and Chad...Dawn Redwoods. These trees grow tall and straight and are pillars of strength which I hope we are to our children. They have large roots that stick out of the ground to remind them that their family "roots" for them and they can count on them to always show up when they need them.

 

I don't have the greenest thumbs and I hope all of these plants survive. At least I tried....and that's all you can do with children: Love them, give them plenty of fresh air and nutrition and nurture them until they can stand on their own.

Anderson Helps the Community

The last thing Anderson needed to complete to become a full fledged Wolf in Cub Scouts was to clean up a part of his neighborhood. Thankfully, the sun came out today and it was our chance to shine! It just so happens to be Earth Day and everything fell into place.

 

Our road is a dead end. There are 14 houses on it and not much traffic. We thought it would take us an hour to do the entire .7 miles. It didn't look that dirty when we rode in the car.

 

We were so wrong!

 

We filled 6 kitchen size trash can bags FULL of trash! We called Chad to pick up the bags as we went along and bring us more. It took us 2 whole hours to finished and, boy, were we tired!

There were 60 Budweiser glass bottles, Dunkin Donuts cups, Cumberland Farms cups, McDonald's bags and cups, Panera Bread boxes and plastic bags from every big chain grocery store.

 

It was sad. Anderson asked "Mama, why is there so much trash? I thought we loved the Earth."

 

All I could do is tell him the truth.

 

"Some people don't care about the Earth. That's why I'm glad there are people like you who do."

 

On our way down the road a few neighbors came out of their houses to thank Anderson for his good deed. He said he wants to clean our road every year.

 

The Boy/Cub Scouts of America is a wonderful organization that teaches children the importance of our world and taking care of our natural resources.

 

I am so thankful for the opportunity to help Anderson learn about the Earth and what it means to us and how to help it stay clean. Hopefully, this is a lesson he will keep with him for the rest of his life.

Anderson Misses Our Cat Beanie. What Can I Tell Him?

 

What do you tell him?

Last night I was wondering why it was taking Anderson so long to get his pajamas on. When I called to him he finally came downstairs and gave me a huge hug. That’s not unusual at our house, thank goodness. I told him he looked taller and that we should measure him. When I brought him into the lighted doorway where we measure all the kids I noticed his face was splotchy. I asked him if he felt ok and he said he had been crying. I said let’s measure you first and then we’ll talk about it.

He grew a quarter of an inch! That made him feel a little better!

When I walked him back to the kitchen I asked what was making him cry. He said it was Beanie.

Our cat Beanie had to be put down a few weeks ago. Anderson had the opportunity to give her hugs and kisses a few days before when I brought him to his dads for the weekend. I told him that Sunday that Beanie had gone to Heaven.  He was sad but he said he still had his stuffed ‘Beanie’ that he made at the Benton Family Fun Park a few years ago at Teddy Mountain. There were no tears just a nod of understanding then.

Now, two weeks later, the tears started to flow. I asked him what upset him so much and he said that he missed her.  He looked up at me with his big brown eyes and looked to me for an answer.  

What do you say? I missed her, too.

I told him the only thing I could. And this is what I said:

 "I miss her, too, honey. But she is no longer in pain. Remember when I told you that when we die we go to Heaven? Well, when we get to Heaven, we are no longer in pain. We are happy and perfectly healthy. You know how Beanie was so skinny and she had a hard time lying down? Now she has more weight and no pain in her whole body. She is perfect. She is chasing butterflies and rolling in the grass and taking naps in the sunshine outside. And she is up there with Brad’s hamster (He passed away Saturday of natural causes)! This way the hamster won’t be alone.

 We all miss her but the most wonderful thing is we always have her in our hearts. And we can think about her anytime we want! And you have your stuffed ‘Beanie’ that you can hug anytime you feel you want to hug her. When we die, which will be a long time from now, we will see her again. Right now she is looking down at us from Heaven saying “Aw, they miss me. I miss them, too. But now I can look after them and help them if they need it.”

 We will always love Beanie. It’s okay to cry. Just remember, she is happy and with God and lots of other cats and dogs playing in Heaven. We can still say goodnight to her in our prayers…and she will hear them."

That made him feel much better. I took him upstairs to my closet where I keep my old photo albums. I found a picture of her and we put it on his wall. He said “This way I can see her every day!”

Death is a tough subject to talk about with kids. Whether it is a pet, a relative, a friend or even someone in the news, you just have to be honest with them. Kids aren’t stupid. They figure things out pretty well.  Tell them it’s okay to cry. It’s a natural thing to do. Always remember they are gone but not forgotten.

So, give your dog extra scratches on its belly, your cat an extra pet (before it turns on you at the drop of a hat to say ok...that’s enough!) and even your hamster a few extra minutes in the little car it can roll around on the floor in before you put it back in its cage. You never know when they might have to leave us. They love us just as much as we love them. And we will see them again.

Sharon Auditioned for Into The Woods and Anderson's Words of Wisdom

When I saw on my friend, Dan Kennedy’s, Facebook page that he was headed to auditions for ‘Into the Woods’ at the Waterville Opera House on Sunday, I instantly wanted to go. The show will run in April of 2015. That will be exactly 10 years since the curtain went up on it before. I was lucky enough to be cast in the role of Little Red Riding Hood.

And, as luck would have it, I went to a callback Tuesday for the same role.

I am 40 years old but, thankfully, have a youthful look about me. However, I’m not as youthful as the young ladies were that were also at call backs. I am guessing I’m 20 years older than they.

A definite disadvantage.

However, I still wanted to sing my heart out and try. And I did. The young ladies were all beautiful. All had the voices of songbirds. In other words: pretty steep competition.

Is there anything left in this old gal?

There sure is. But now, I have to be realistic. Yes, I have experience in prior productions but the director and musical director have to make very tough choices on all the different parts.

They will go with the ones that fit the parts the best. That means looks, voice and ability all rolled into one. And they always choose correctly. You must put trust in the people who are casting the players. It is their vision. Whomever they choose, they have faith in those and will guide them through the process to make this stage production as grand as the ones that came before it.

Last night when I told Anderson I had a call back for the part, he said “Mama, can I come and see you?” I told him IF I get the part that he would certainly be in the audience.

This morning he asked if I had “won” the part. I told him that I wouldn’t know for at least a week.

And then I asked him a few very important questions. Here is what transpired this morning:

“Anderson, what happens if I get the part?”

“I would get to see you, Mama, and you would be very happy.”

“Anderson, what would happen if I DIDN’T get the part?”

“I wouldn’t get to see you and you would be sad.”

“But is that okay? To be sad?”

“Yes.”

“Why is that?”

“Because you did your best."

"That's right. I did."

There is always a lesson to be taught in all different situations. The reaction and how you handle each and every situation is watched closely by little eyes and ears. I hope he remembers this lesson when he unfortunately doesn't make it on a team or, if he ever gets into theater, doesn't get the role he wants. In the words of Stephen Sondheim and his lyrics for the Witch from the upcoming performances at the Waterville Opera House:

“Careful the things you say
Children will listen
Careful the things you do
Children will see and learn
Children may not obey, but children will listen
Children will look to you for which way to turn
To learn what to be
Careful before you say "Listen to me"
Children will listen
Careful the wish you make
Wishes are children
Careful the path they take
Wishes come true, not free
Careful the spell you cast
Not just on children
Sometimes a spell may last
Past what you can see
And turn against you
Careful the tale you tell
That is the spell
Children will listen
How do you say to a child who's in flight
"Don't slip away and I won't hold so tight"
What can you say that no matter how slight
Won't be misunderstood.
What do you leave to your child when you're dead?
Only whatever you put in its head
Things that you're mother and father had said
Which were left to them too
Careful the things you say
Children will listen
Careful you do them too
Children will see
And learn
Guide them, but step away
Children will glisten
Tamper with what is true
And children will turn
If just to be free
Careful before you say
"Listen to me"
Children will listen”

What Would My Answer Be?

On my birthday last week, my son, Anderson, asked me a question while I was driving him to the babysitter.

“Mama, what do you want for your birthday?”

I smiled at him in the rearview mirror and said “Lots of hugs and kisses from you!”

He laughed and said “No, Mama, what do you REALLY want for your birthday?”

I answered “Lots of hugs and kisses from Chad!”

Then he got a serious look on his face.

He said “No, Mama, what have you always wanted but never got?”

THAT took me by surprise.         

I remember being in a store about 10 years ago and buying a reissued Snoopy Sno-Cone Machine that I had always wanted as a kid.

I remember my co-worker surprising me on-air with an Easy Bake Oven.

But now, at 40, what is something I’ve always wanted but never received?

I had no answer. I told him I would have to get back to him on that.

I am now 40 years old. I certainly don’t feel it. And I’m told I don’t look it. But, at 40, it was time to look back and figure out what I HAD always wanted but NEVER received.

Or should it have been, never DONE?

So, I made a list of what I wish HAD happened to me.

I wish:

1.       I had been allowed to play sports in school

2.       Someone would have taught me about girl stuff (hair, monthlies, makeup, clothes)

3.       My mother had not ripped up the letter saying I had a full scholarship to UNC

4.       I had gone for a Bachelor’s Degree

5.       I had learned to play an instrument when I was a kid

6.       I had taken dance classes

7.       I had been allowed to attend school dances

8.       I had been allowed to have sleepovers

9.       I had not paid off someone’s $25,000 worth of credit card debt and not asked for it back (Because he is living large now!)

Yes, all those things happened.  I was what they called a “late bloomer” of life. In response to all those things I wish had happened, here is what I got out of them:

1.       It wasn’t until my 30s when I was part of an actual team. I played volleyball with my co-workers for a season.

2.      I’m still learning about girl stuff. I can’t do my own hair for the life of me and I rely on my husband to pick out my clothes. From what I hear he has good taste.

3.       I didn’t get to go to UNC but I DID graduate from KVTC and I’m going back to get my bachelor’s in January.

4.      That covers #4, too!

5.      I have learned enough on piano and guitar to create my own music but I’m not proficient at any of them.

6.      I can keep a beat on my feet but just because I have rhythm doesn’t mean I’m a good dancer.

7.     That one school dance where I was the laughing stock for the rest of the school year when my mother and sister arrived and made a huge scene….yeah, I could live without that memory.  I think if I had been able to attend them regularly, I would be able to relate to make friends and make better friends now.  I have plenty of friends on Facebook but I mostly keep to myself, husband  and children. I don’t ‘hang out’ with anyone.

8.     Ahhh, the sleepover. To this day I have no idea what goes on at one. I sincerely doubt it was pillow fights in pajamas.

9.       Yup. Paid off all his debt so his credit would be good and we could buy a nice house together. Got taken on that one. It’s a good thing I’ve got the right man now.

So what is it I want? At 40 years old, you’d think I could think of something, right?

Well, I have.

I want my son to grow up and experience everything I never got a chance to do.

I want him active in sports, which he is in baseball and basketball.

Learning about boy stuff, from Chad and Boy Scouts.

He WILL go to the college of his choice!

He WILL graduate, too!

He wants to take guitar lessons when he gets older. That’s fine with me!

The boy likes to dance and I will encourage him to dance whenever he wants to. A girl loves a man who can dance! (although I will have to intervene if ‘The Sprinkler’ ever becomes his signature move).

He can attend school dances and not be afraid of his mom freaking out on him.

He can sleep at a friend’s house without his mom freaking out on him.

And he will, hopefully, learn how to handle his money. He’s done well so far. He has a savings account for his church mission and college.

That’s it. I want my son to be able to do the things I was never allowed to do. It’s not because they were bad things. Yes, my parents were overprotective but it didn’t mean they didn’t love me or want what’s best for me. They did. And I know that.  And I’m who I am today because of it.

And I hope my son will understand, even if it is 20 years from when he graduates,  at the things I say ‘no’ to and the ones I say ‘yes’ to. I hope he will look back and say “I had it pretty good….and an awesome mom.”

 

Anderson Visited Me at Work Today!

It's not every day your child asks 'Mama, can I go to work with you?"  And when they do, you can't wait to bring them!

But first, you must ask permission. And Anderson did just that! He said he would write a letter to Bob and ask. I presented it to Bob the next day and he approved the request. (You must do things through the proper channels.)

Today was the big day! I woke up Anderson and told him to look his best so he put on his church clothes....tie and all! If he ever works in an actual office, I think he's got the attire down.

After stopping at McDonald's for some pancakes (because you can't work on an empty stomach), we stepped into Kennebec Behavioral Health. I work in the Billing Department as a Billing Specialist. I really love my job because 1 + 1 ALWAYS equals 2! Everything is black & white. There really are no gray areas. You either get paid or you don't. Very few times do I ever have to worry about not figuring things out. 99% of the time there is always an answer.

After his big breakfast, our boss, Bob, brought in doughnuts from Tim Hortons. He offered Anderson first choice! Of course, he chose the one with the most sprinkles!

After all the food, it was time to get down to business! I told him that if he ever wanted to work in Billing, Bob needed to make sure he knew his numbers. So I gave him the test EVERY employee must take before being able to work in Billing. (wink wink) A test of addition and subtraction. Could he do it?

You better believe he could! 100%!!

 

I asked him if he knew what insurance was. He shook his head no. So I explained it to him like this:

You know how you visit the doctor or the chiropractor? Well, each time you see them, you are charged money. Would you like to pay them ALL the money?

He said no. Smart boy!

I told him that insurance is something you can buy through your work so they pay for almost all of it!

After that, I put him to work! I made him add up the columns in our report to make sure the computer system was adding them correctly. Never can be too sure, right?

When he was all done, he received a certificate!

I tell you, this kid will be ready for corporate America soon enough! He liked it so much he wants to come back! Maybe when he's old enough he can be a temp and do data entry. All I know is that he said when he gets older he wants a convertible. I told him he could start looking for a job at 15. When it comes to his financial future, I'm not worried.

A Mother's Work is Never Done...Even When She's AT Work!

We moms have a lot to do. It begins in the morning with making the bed, making breakfast, laundry, dishes and so much more before heading off to work. For example, reminding the kids to brush their teeth in the morning. In Summertime, sometimes kids are forgetful. Wouldn't you be with 3 months off to play? But, the dutiful and sometimes overbearing moms we are, we don't let them forget.

We're just being moms.

Well, last night as we were all getting ready for bed, Anderson poked his head over the railing and he had a blue object in his hand.

Last week, Aunt Wendy was able to stay with the kids while we were away on our honeymoon. And Aunt Wendy is tons of fun! I had left her a few certificates to take the kids to The Fun Park in Benton as a way to get out and not have to be home all the time. While there, they played mini golf, the batting cages and rode the go-karts. Inside they have Teddy Mountain where you can make your own stuffed animals. That's where Anderson got his stuffed Pumpkin and Beanie, who look like our cats.

While at The Fun Park, they stopped at the claw machine. Wendy had just enough money for each of them to take a turn. Brad went first and, unfortunately, couldn't grab anything. Anderson got lucky, though. He won a light blue rhinoceros! And he has slept with it ever since.

Last night, that blue object in his hand was that rhinoceros. He asked me to fix him. You see, the rhino had a hole in the back where the stitching had come undone. I told him to toss it down and I would fix it for tomorrow.

This morning the rhino went to work with me. And with help from Kathy at the front desk and Barbara down the hall, we came up with a sewing kit and needle. While spending 1:32:08 on the phone (most of it on hold) with an insurance company trying to get claims paid, I took out the kit and sewed him back together. It was a great stress reliever. It can get very frustrating when you work so hard on a patient's behalf and the insurance company can't seem to see what you're seeing. Luckily, the rhino was fixed and the rep was able to help me in a big way.

I can't wait to see the look on his face when he sees the little blue stuffed animal come through the door, all fixed, like new and waiting for a hug.

A mom's work at 4:45....shall be done. At least for a little while....