Friday, December 23, 2011

WON'T GIVE UP!

You would think by this time in my life I would have learned this one valuable lesson; children will rarely participate at the same level of my fantasies!  BUT I JUST CAN’T SEEM TO GIVE UP THAT HOPE!

Perhaps I’m just a glutton for punishment and disappointment; perhaps I just need to maintain hope; perhaps I really am just CRAZY – but whatever it is…. I just believe that children should be introduced to certain things so… I keep trying.   

I guess in a way I have improved because I now seek out folks to help me with my “projects.”  I no longer have to be the beginning, middle and end of the matter.  Blessedly, God seems to send all the right folks just when I need them for one of my schemes – oh, I mean “projects.”

I won’t tell you how many different little craft things I have tucked around this place just waiting for me to have the right energy/patience or correct “assistant” in the house.  I will also steer clear of mentioning my bright idea for gardens this past hot season. 

For the record, I’m not the only one with these ideas in my family.  My daughter starts a lot of projects and howls in defeat at the end because she just can’t imagine what she was thinking at the time.  Her husband usually comes in and pushes the “project” on to completion. 

I’m also sure my mother would like for me to forego the story of the flower planting idea she had.  I will just say that the children were very interested in watching her do the digging and we never noticed a flower blooming despite the children regularly checking. 

I determined, despite the failure of my garden plan (it was hot ya’ll), the children still needed to experience laboring and sharing the fruits of that labor with others.  So, I bought a box of craft things, talked my mother her best friend and a sister/friend into joining us for some crafts (Grandmas/Aunite).  It must have sounded like such a good plan that my male co-worker (Daddy/Uncle) brought his children over to join in the fun (his wife was the smartest of us all – she didn’t come over).  We also had another kiddo and adult join us (Grandma/Auntie) a little after the crafts began. 

But I was very smart (minus the glue thing but I corrected that by buying some glue in the middle of the project).  I bought a large bottle of wine.  I opened the box of stuff put it on the table and had my very large glass of wine (11am ya’ll).  I was feeling no pain and was doing no crafts so it all went well for me. 

The children were interested at first but somewhere along the line, they broke camp, escaped the house and were running wild in the yard.  None of the involved adults (Grandmas/Aunties/Uncle/Daddy) seemed to be all that worried about them escaping.  We had food and wine and the house was quieter.  We were happy.

However, an hour or so after the children made a break for it…. I heard grumblings from the worker bees.  They had figured out that my co-worker had slipped away.  But he’s wise to being around women so he would shuffle in and out of the room (when a commercial was on the TV). 

Then they wanted to know why I wasn’t doing any crafts.  I explained that was the reason for inviting them (smile – you can imagine how well that went over).  They wouldn’t accept any of my advice on how to make the crafts stick together (got a little snippy too something about “the one that isn’t working has ideas”) so I was forced to show them how it’s done! 

I used spray adhesive – which they had discounted as being ineffective without ever trying it.  My lovely little Christmas tree dried and was done in no time.  I cleaned the kitchen; bagged up all the left over craft stuff and put all the stuff up in the time it took them to keep checking on their wet crafts (wait - you don’t think that was their plan - do you?)

The Rest of the Story
I don’t know if we have enough projects completed to give as gifts but I truly enjoyed the singing that went on against my mother’s wishes (but you’d be glad to know that she and my sister/friend dug way back in the hymnal archives and broke out in an oldie but goodie). 

I enjoyed the children being free of us always telling them stop it, quit it, don’t.  And, I especially enjoyed the fact that our family-friends would give up their time to attempt my plan with the children. 

I wonder if the children know how truly blessed we are?  I guess I will have to develop a new scheme to teach them that (smile) but I know and feel full of joy and gratitude that God always sends who and what is needed when it is needed;  which must be the reason WE WON’T GIVE UP.   I thank you Lord! 





Monday, December 12, 2011

TRIBUTE

I have a friend that is from El Salvador.  I always smile when I think of her because she speaks with this lovely accent and I can’t help but to hear it when I think of her. 

One day, we were discussing the matter of culture and how different cultures are communicated.  This of course was a very interesting concept to me (the nerd in me).  We kicked it around for a few minutes until somehow the topic of my nieces and nephew living with me became the lens through which we kept considering the topic. 

She indicated that the children living with me (it’s not really me – it’s “us” but for the sake of this conversation – I will stick with me) is a choice.  I told her “absolutely not – no choice in the matter.”  She said, yes, you didn’t have to agree – and I explained to agree or disagree didn’t even bare weight – because they belong to us and we take care of ours.  What a strange idea to have choice in this type of matter. 

I further shared with her that I once had a job recruiting Black Adoptive Families for Black children.  I always found the cognitive dissonance interesting to maneuver through because older African-Americans just didn’t believe there were black children without family or community – that were in foster care. 

In fact, throughout our entire family (immediate and extended; Kansas, Colorado, Texas, Oklahoma to California) one way or another the children stay in the family.  They may not have been raised with the part of the tribe they were born into but they’re still in the tribe. 

To me, it isn’t a choice – it just is.  Anyway, did you ever meet my Grandmother?  No way could I ever not have offered help and face her again when it’s my time to move to Glory. 

I know a very exceptional woman.  I’m blessed to call her my Aunt.  She raised my cousins as if she birthed them and to this day they huddle at her side.  I’m always reminded of Proverbs 31:28a when I think of her; “Her children arise up, and call her blessed.” 

She and her siblings recently lost their Father.  I knew her Father.  He was one of my friends.  He always had a smile and some little joke for me. 

The biggest thing is I always felt like he was genuinely happy to see me.  My air seemed to get caught when I heard his health was not well and I felt, yet again, the world was less safe when I learned he’d moved to Glory. 

I was away and not able to be with the family.  But I had the opportunity to think about them.  And, I have to tell you the thing that I like about my Aunt and her siblings; they take care of their parents! 

I don’t know if they had some kind of calendar meeting or what but there was never any doubt about supporting their mother and father as their health has declined.  “Granny” is still living – doing well.  And, they move when she says move - smile.  (Granny is a wonderful woman and still very feisty!  I pity the fool that tries to tell her 90 something self what to do!) 

Now are you ready for this?  They did and do all of this with a grace and graciousness unlike any I’ve seen before.  They don’t whine or complain (unlike myself; I bet if you look up whining and crying they have my picture in the book; I’m so good at it.)

They respected their father’s life and important relationships – even in writing.  What a tribute!  I know they miss their Daddy.   

I’m thankful that my cousins have my Aunt for their mother and her family for extended family.  See how God works?  I get to be in the extended tribe as well because I’ve been exposed to these exceptional folk and the experience adds to my desire to be a better person.

My friend from El Salvador and I haven’t had the chance to revisit the topic of culture – but it helped me to verbalize the fact that although I didn’t “have a choice” (the alternatives weren’t options) I’m not a “victim or hostage.”  It’s with the Grace of God - a tribute to which I embrace this - my life.