A Boy and Dr. Neil deGrasse Tyson

We had been waiting for this night for the last two months.  The tickets had been bought thanks to a friend who wanted Anderson to get a chance to see one of the most influential minds on the planet.

Dr. Neil deGrasse Tyson was delivering his first lecture in the state of Maine on Wednesday night to a packed house at the Merrill Auditorium in Portland. The diversity in age of the ticketholders surprised me. I, personally, thought I was the only one bringing a child with me but there were at least twenty under the age of twelve sitting in the audience. One nine year old even succeeded in impressing Dr. Tyson by answering a question loudly proving himself smarter than some people twice his age.

Anderson has had a fascination with the universe since the age of five. Living in the country, the stars at night are big and bright in Maine and deep in the heart of a child. I can’t count the number of times we have rushed outside to see the International Space Station drift across the sky. Or the nights where he has pointed out a certain star and told me its name and how many light years away it is.

When I told him Dr. Tyson was coming to Maine he said “The man from the Big Bang Theory?” Yes, one in the same. “You mean the man that said Pluto’s not a real planet anymore?” Yes, that man. “Can we go?” He got pretty excited. I told him maybe. I had no idea that tickets to see a lecture were the same price as to see a concert.  By chance, a woman I know found out that he wanted to see him and handed me a check and said “Take him. It’s on me. Let that boy have his superhero.”

If that doesn’t restore your faith in humanity, I don’t know what will.

And so we went to see his superhero.

Dressed in jeans, buttoned-down shirt, sport coat and, coincidentally, no shoes he took the stage (even though the house lights weren’t working properly) to the thunderous applause of almost 1900 that were in attendance. You would have thought Paul Simon or Ed Sheeran had come out from behind the curtain.

Who was this man?

To Anderson, he’s the space guy. When I told him we had tickets, we decided to do a little research on him. We found out that he grew up in Bronx, NY, and wanted to become an astrophysicist at an early age. We read that he loved stars and space and discovering new things. His first experience was at the Hayden Planetarium at the American Museum of Natural History in New York and now he is the Director of it.

For two hours, we listened to him talk, joke and mesmerize us with passages from Carl Sagan. He taught us about where we came from, what we were related to, how very big the universe is and how very small we really are. Anderson would laugh and the adults near us, surprised to hear a young voice, turned to see who it was. They smiled when they saw him enjoying himself. I couple of the ushers were sitting behind us and one of them gave me a thumbs up. They loved hearing how happy he was.

Toward the very end there was time for questions and answers. We were in the balcony so there was no chance of us getting in line for that. We stayed and listened.

Then the most wonderful part of the entire experience happened.

While answering the nine year old’s question, he said (and I am paraphrasing because I can’t remember word for word) something like this:

“If you’re a parent or an adult who knows children, take them to see someone who knows something. Let them hear from a professional the knowledge and the excitement they have for the position they hold.”

That’s exactly what I was doing. If you could have seen Anderson’s face as he hung on every word Dr. Tyson was saying, then you’d know his words are true. I was so overwhelmed by hearing this and seeing his face, I started to tear up. I looked at him knowing I did the right thing by keeping him out late on a school night to hear man talk about space. But it was much more than that.

It was an experience together. It was a mother helping further her son’s dream of space and stars and developing what he wants to be when he grows up. Now, that dream may change (although I hope it doesn’t) and, if it does, then I will try to support him with that dream. I will do what Dr. Tyson says and take him to another professional that can put forth the knowledge and excitement about what they do to instill in him a thirst for that knowledge.

I put Anderson to bed and he thanked me for taking him. He said since it was getting darker earlier we could take the telescope out and check out the sky more often. It was something we could do together.

I don’t see his love for the universe ending anytime soon. That’s fine by me because I don’t see my love for him or his for me ending anytime soon either.

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.

Just Me and My Dad

It's not often a forty-two year old woman gets to sit at the foot of her father and read to him.

But today I did.

I visited my mother and father after work this evening and brought them some information I thought he might like to hear. My sister, Audrey, was finishing up their few dishes in the sink when I arrived.

My dad is a proud veteran of the US Navy having served during the time of the Korean War. He was aboard the USS Newport News from 1956 until 1957. In their home hangs a beautiful picture of the ship he was on. They had nicknamed it 'The Grey Ghost from the East Coast'. When I was little I would ask him questions about the 'boat' as I called it and he would point out where he manned the five inch guns.

He never talked about being in the armed forces much. Every now and then I bring it up and a story might happen to make its way out to be told. My dad is a few months shy of eighty-one so it's understandable not remembering too much of things that happen sixty years ago.

But remember he does.

I sat on the floor next to his recliner and started to read aloud the article of his ship. It was interesting to find out it was the very first fully-air conditioned ship in the US Navy. When I said a certain Admiral's name, my mother started to laugh and said "that's the one he punched". She didn't elaborate any further. My dad didn't expand on it either. I guess that's a story for another time.

It mentioned many different cities the ship had visited: Barcelona, New Orleans, Balboa, Guantanamo Bay. The most fascinating place to me was the Panama Canal. I had not read the entire piece before I arrived so I was amazed when I read it. I looked up at him and asked "YOU went through the Panama Canal?"

Not missing a beat he replied "Well, you had to. If you didn't, you'd have to go all the way around to get where we were going."

That's when a story came to light. He remembered when one of his shipmates was down in the boiler room. He radioed up he wanted a cigarette. One of the crewmen brought it down and when the soldier lit it up, the room exploded. Two men died and another two were injured. Ten minutes later, he said, he was radioed again saying he had a phone call from his mother. Thinking something had happened to her, he ran to pick it up. He asked if she was alright and she said she was fine. Then she asked if he was. Confused he said he was and wondered why she was calling. Somehow it made the news that there was an explosion aboard his ship! The Grey Ghost's phone lines were 'blowing up' with calls from worried moms and dads making sure their sailors were unharmed.

Then, he gave me a request.

My husband, Chad, and I are taking our blended family on its first family vacation. We had told my parents a few months ago were were headed to Washington, D.C. to take in all the monuments and museums.

My father said at the Korean Memorial it has a computer program inside its building where you can search for a soldier's name and the time they served. My father has asked me to go and search for him. I hope I find him. I'll do more research on what he's talking about but if his name is anywhere in Washington, D.C. I want to find it and show him.

I wonder how many more stories I'll hear from him. The unusual thing about my father is he hardly ever tells the same story twice. They're always new. At least to me they are. When we get back from our trip, I look forward to sitting with him and showing him all the amazing ways our country has remembered its soldiers. Most of all, I just look forward to spending time with him.

Developing Your Gift from God

Yesterday, a man spoke in church about how when we are born God gives each of us a talent. That talent is left for us to discover because, sometimes, it’s not an immediate revelation. While some find it when they are children others may encounter theirs when they are adults. That talent is for us to do what we may with it. We can develop it. We can hide it. We can share it with others. We can teach others about it so they can increase theirs. Some are truly blessed and have multiple talents.

While I’m not the best vocalist, I do try and share what I think is my talent. It is such a joy for me to watch people dance to our music whether it’s the cover of a song or an original that was penned from my own hand. When the clubs are filled with patrons having a good time it makes my heart smile and I know God is happy with me.

The most wonderful part of my job is the children. When they are at the campgrounds and family functions I love to include them. When you think about it, little children are not the usual audience to attend a national concert on the stages of Bangor or Portland. When we, as a band, perform at these functions, we are the first “concert” they actually see. The children will come up to the stage and stare at the instruments. Others will stand right in front of me and watch my sparkling microphone. These are things they’ve never seen in real life. The music doesn’t come out of a tiny box or cell phone. They aren’t watching it as it is Chrome-casted on a television screen in a YouTube video.

It’s live. And to them, it’s amazing!

We have the kids come up on stage and dance or sing or, if we have it, play the tambourine. From that moment on, that’s all they can think about. I wish I had saved each message from a parent saying “Ever since we saw you play that‘s all my child thinks about. He/she wants a guitar/drums/microphone for their birthday/Christmas!”

We planted a seed.

A seed of music in a young child is a powerful thing. Studies have been shown that music helps a child learn and study better. They are better students because they can focus on a task because they focus on learning a song or a riff or a drumbeat. It helps them overcome shyness because they start to perform in front of others or join a group that makes them work with others. They can nourish that seed and, if they want, have it grow into one of the most wonderful talents a person can have and one of the easiest things to share.

I see the seeds in my own children growing. Jayden has taken to the drums like a natural. Brad has been playing guitar for years and has started talking about starting his own band with his friends. Anderson is now singing loud and proud at church. They see me and Chad and how hard we work at our music and it is rubbing off on them. We would never force them to play but we will encourage them when they are practicing. It’s our jobs as parents to help them nourish their talent.

It’s also my responsibility as an entertainer to give 150% each time I perform. In every crowd there is always someone that has never heard us. We may do the same 60 songs at every gig but there is no excuse for not giving it your all every time. You only have one chance to make a good first impression. I refuse to let that chance slip by because you never know who that one person is. It could be someone looking to hire your band for an event. It could be the next Jimi Hendrix or Carrie Underwood watching you play or sing. You will never know the affect you have on others.

Take your gift from God and make it grow. Whether it is music, teaching, sports…it doesn’t matter. Discover your gift and develop it. It will not only fill your heart but it will fill others. And you can be sure God will be smiling.

 

 

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.

                              

3 Fire Starters For Your Wood Stove

You’ve worked all day and all you can think about is coming home and starting a fire in the wood stove and curling up next to it with a cup of hot chocolate.

You bring in wood from the wood box only to find you ran out of newspaper to help start the fire. You forgot to buy fire starters at Home Depot last week and the last thing you want is to head out to the store.

If you have any of these things hanging around your house, you won’t have to venture out into the cold until the next day.

Believe it or not, dryer lint is an excellent fire starter. In my laundry room, I keep a plastic bag to collect it as I clean out the lint tray for the next load. When I’ve run out of newspaper, I’ve set it at the bottom of the stove (minus the bag), piled the wood like I taught my son in Cub Scouts and lit it. The only drawback to using dryer lint is the smell. I have dogs and cats and I wash their blankets once a week. The smell of burning animal hair isn’t exactly pleasant but it gets the job done. Light your favorite candle and the scent won’t stay around for long.

Do you make big meals on the weekend for your family? Well, save that bacon grease! When I’ve been in a bind for a fire starter, I take a paper towel and rub the grease that has gelled over a few days on the wood itself. Put a few paper towels along with the one covered in grease and light it up! There’s no creosote buildup in your chimney and the fire will be roaring in no time.

Speaking of greasy things, get out that bag of chips. Cut the calories! Your waistline will thank you for emptying a bag of potato or corn chips into the stove. Try it. If you set fire to corn chip, it acts just like a match. Now think of a bag of little matches going up in flames all at once.  It’s a cheap and easy way to start a fire when you need to.

It also never hurts to visit the neighbors. You can always go next door and ask them for their old newspapers or cardboard boxes that they would be recycling. I wouldn’t try just anything you have hanging around the house to start a fire however, these ways are proven to work. Always remember to stay safe when playing with fire. Stay warm, my chilly friends!