Thank You Notes

Sitting at my laptop, with a cup of coffee, on Thanksgiving morning is unusual for me. Normally, I would be prepping the turkey for its entry into the oven and starting my holiday dinner run around. Equally unusual is the fact that I am not cooking dinner today. Something that over the last 15 years I think has happened only once. And today, I am thankful for it. Thank you to my sister in law, who is hosting today, for allowing me this moment to sit with my coffee at my laptop.

As I sit in writers silence (only the sound of the keyboard), I can’t help thinking about the complexity of the world we live in and the life we are supposed to lead by design, if there is such a thing. My life, despite the ups and downs, is more than worth living. It may not be filled with travel (due to a serious fear of flying) and excitement, or thrilling expeditions, or zany antics or one laugh after the other, but it is my life and I am thankful for it. I will take the zaniness and laughter as it occurs, which is already not in short supply. The travel however? Maybe 2012 will be my year. The year of the valium.

The status of my relationships with friends, family or co-workers may change and ebb and flow. That is the nature of relationships. I hate to hurt people’s feelings. Hate it. And if I inadvertently do it, I feel terrible. This past year has been a learning experience for me in areas such as: How not to act. What not to say. Who to trust. At 42 years old, I still feel like a student.

But that is life and if I love life, I have to endure every part of it and be willing to embrace it. It builds people.

My husband and children. Now, that is where the greatest of the love and toughest of the tough happen. Raising kids and being a partner are the most fun, the best of the best but sometimes, the most difficult and challenging. With them, all of the things that make up the meaning of life get rolled out into the carpet. Year to year, we face new forms of utter happiness and frustrations. It seems to change as months roll by, what we focus on.  I am well aware, as I inch closer and closer, into the teenage years, that hormones change everything and I am awaiting for some big almighty switch to be flipped. So far, so good. But I am ready with my emotional suit of armor and my tough love badge, for the worst.

What am I thankful for?

My husband. He is the string to my balloon. There he is, on the ground, tugging at my hot air as I float back and forth. He reminds me to stay grounded when I am up above, in the distant clouds. If it weren’t for him, we’d be homeless living on the streets of Vegas.

My son. The person that made me a Mother. His sweet face and love of creativity, acting, music and football have brought me to places I never thought I would be and have regretted not going to until now. He is thoughtful, caring, intelligent, funny and stubborn. I love all of the things he is. I admire him.

My daughter. Her inner peace and kindness help me to be more giving. She accepts all people, no matter who they are. She is loving, kind, diplomatic, goofy and a crazy sports fanatic (Ugh). I overdosed on sports fanatics a long time ago, but for her, I’d sit thru 40 tee ball games in one day.

I am lucky to have extended family and friends who would walk through fire for me, and me for them. What else could you possibly want? I don’t care what kind of car I drive, how big my house is or what kind of ring is on my finger. The labels on my clothes don’t matter, the number of big screen TVs in my house is insignificant and the latest “thing” is just that. A thing.

All of this is normal, right? Of course I love my family and friends. Sure. The tragedy happens when I don’t let them know how I feel. That is regrettable. I can feel this all I want, but if I don’t say it out loud to the people that matter, then it’s all crap.

So, on this Thanksgiving, I will tell the people who matter the most, just why they matter. It doesn’t get old. And though the kids might roll their eyes because they have heard it a million times before, I will keep telling them.

I truly wish you a wonderfully joyous and meaningful Thanksgiving.

"What Have You Done For Us Lately"

The other day, I was fortunate enough to have one of the leading ladies of our local library come and sit down in my office. Mary and I began to chat about the usual pleasantries, when she informed me that she, and her co-worker, (two women that our community has the utmost respect for), would be retiring after 20 plus years of running our local treasure of a library. These two women are so close, that neither one of them could imagine working without the other by her side, so they decided to take the leap together, and retire.

This is a not just your every day run-of-the-mill town library. The children’s section was always a hub of excitement. The colors, learning, dress up, reading, educating, artwork, sculpture, themes, theater, cozy nooks, etc, just ooze from the room as soon as you walk in. As an adult, I would get excited to go there! It was fun! And the two amazing ladies that ran it, with the help of many other giving souls, became parental figures to us all. They were always coming up with some brilliant, creative way to pass on the love of reading and learning to our little ones. Now that my children are older, I, of course do not frequent the children’s section anymore and I have since moved to a neighboring town. But I have missed it. Just as part of me misses having children of the age who want to go there.

While talking to Mary, we chatted about some of the old times, and when I asked her what prompted her to retire at a younger age then most, she answered with a changed expression of sadness: “The parents are not the same. Instead of parents getting involved the way they used to, they only want to know what you can do for them and their children, not the other way around. It’s just not the same (shaking her head). The community feel has changed. It’s more about the individual and less about the community as a whole.”

This troubles me. How disturbing. How sad.

As we continue to isolate ourselves more and more and become increasingly electronic and downloadable, I ask us all: What have you done for your community lately?

How difficult is it to say: “I have a bunch of books that my kids don’t read anymore, let me donate them” or “I will bake muffins for our story time on Friday” or “Here is a $2 donation. Today I will forego my store bought coffee in a styrofoam cup.”

It doesn’t take a huge commitment. Just do small. Small things matter.

I know many volunteers that are involved with our kids, seniors, those that are homeless, unhealthy, those in need. But from what I am hearing and witnessing, fewer and fewer of us want to take the time and trouble to extend ourselves anymore. We have, on the whole, become a very ME driven society.

While my family and friends will always be on the top of my priority list, in fact, they are the only entries on my priority list, it is essential that I show my children how to give. And give without the prospect of ever receiving anything back. What I receive back is not always visible. It comes in waves of pride and heartfelt caring for those around me and for wanting my community to be just a little bit better, nicer, more welcoming. Without that feeling, where you live, work and play is less desirable to everyone.

On a different level, one of my good friends is a giver/volunteer/if I see a wrong, I must right it, type of person. She is proactive. She makes things happen. She builds playgrounds and football fields and running tracks and (tries wholeheartedly) to push for public kindergarten (which eventually came to be). Those that are uncomfortable with her passion label her as a “bitch”. Yup. She is. And our community is better because of that bitch. She has literally changed the face of our community.

Maybe that is why people are afraid to extend themselves. It brings them into the forefront of an issue. It shines a spotlight sometimes. It can be a burden if others criticize how you focus your passion or attention. So, ultimately, it could be that we shy away for fear of being judged. That is very unfortunate. Maybe it is a lesson to us all to be less judgemental of others.

So I ask, and if you don’t care to hear it, then hit the delete button: “What have you done to make your community, the life of someone around you, just a little bit better?”

Only you know where to go from here…

Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. once said: “We are prone to judge success by the index of our salaries or the size of our automobiles, rather than by the quality of our service relationship to humanity.”

How is your relationship with humanity?

(* this blog is dedicated to my friend Lori, two amazing librarians, and all of the caring volunteers out there. Some names in this blog have been changed)