Monday Musings-Thank You

The column below is one I'll probably pull out periodically, or rewrite, maybe. We so seldom give thanks to those who make our lives better. Beginning with those closest to us, family, friends. Too often familiarity breeds a lack of thoughtfulness. We know, at least us fortunate ones, they'll always have our back. It might not always be in the way we want. Sometimes hard truths must be shared. To support someone indiscrimiately, whether what they do is in their own best interest, let alone anyone else's good, is rightly called enabling. And sometimes it's hard to resist when we love someone. That's probably material for another time.

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   Two little words. But they pack a punch. I regret that I am often remiss in speaking them in a timely manner. I don’t do New Year’s Resolutions, but I am resolved to do better in this area.
   Many years ago in high school, three of my classes were general business, typing, and bookkeeping, taught by the same teacher, Miss Gwen Gatewood. As an adult, in work and home life (balancing checkbook, price comparisons), I realized that those three classes had been priceless. I wrote Miss Gatewood to thank her. She replied thanking me. I only saw her a few times after high school, a couple of class reunions and my mother’s funeral, but I will always remember her. Without guilt, because I thanked her. 
   I had to drive  to Johnson City several times daily some years ago. Each Christmas a business along the highway which made and sold custom plastic awnings displayed an enclosure made of translucent awning fabric lit from within. Printed on the fabric was a manger scene in silhouette and the words, God with us. Each time I drove past the business, the sight cheered me even though I was working long hours with few days off and having trouble finding the ‘Merry’ in Christmas. I wanted to thank the owner and mailed a Christmas card to the business.
   Thanking God for life and health goes without saying, and often does, unfortunately. On a human level we all owe thanks to major groups of people for their contributions to a mostly peaceful, safe and comfortable existence in this United States. Our volunteer military forces are not compensated enough nor thanked enough. Nor our civilian police forces who also stand ready to put lives on the line to protect us. We may gripe about a speeding ticket but is anarchy preferable? That’s what we would have without that ‘thin blue line’ to enforce civil laws. 
   Other civilian groups we don’t thank enough are our utility workers - electric, water, both essentials to modern life. When nature runs amok, winter and summer, most are urged to stay home, but these men and women are called out to restore electricity and keep the water running.
So hats off to our many unsung heroes, you are appreciated, though we don’t say it enough.

   Winter is coming on and with it possible times of weather emergencies, after several periods of such this past summer, with summer storms and hurricanes. So it probably behooves us to thank those who stand ready to help all year round.

Monday Musings-Know Your Dream

The below column was written some months after my life had begun to reknit into whatever it might become as I adjusted to widowhood. So many people just kind of give up after a major loss and they encounter the need to fashion a different life. I like to remember and quote something I read long ago and have no idea who said it. Whoever it was, I thank them. "Don't cry ('...for too long', as a sweet cousin we recently lost wrote in a letter to her family.) because it ended, smile because it happened."

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     Hold On Tight to Your Dreams

Better advice in a song was never given. When the Electric Light Orchestra first recorded their song my life was so full I barely remember hearing it. About ten years ago I re-discovered it. A few years down life’s road waited an event, my husband’s major stroke/cerebral hemorrhage, which signaled the beginning of the end of something that had defined my life since I was nineteen, marriage.
     My marriage had included dreams, also, though most were shared dreams that God graciously granted. A peaceful home, a beautiful daughter, a grandson to be proud of, loving families and many dear friends.
     But in my heart I cherished dreams that were mine alone. Like most people, I had doubts those dreams would ever come to fruition. But I learned, as many people have, that once I stepped out and made a few efforts God, or the Universe, depending on your persuasion, set events in motion to bring them to pass. 
     One long-held dream was that I would be a published author, accepted and active with other writers in writers groups. The adage that we should be careful what we wish for comes to mind, but that’s another story. After I began seriously submitting my work I had stories accepted in print and online, wrote and published a couple of books.
     A few months before my husband’s death I achieved another goal I’d studied for off and on for several years. I took and passed the exam for my amateur radio operator license and am now a member of a local amateur radio club. My call sign – KJ4WJL.
     Since I first began seriously marketing my work, I had kept one dream close, to become a regular newspaper columnist. No editor was even slightly interested the few times I mustered up the nerve to pitch my ideas. But this year, twelve months into widowhood, that dream, too, has been realized in the column you’re now reading.
     After the anguish of three years watching my husband weaken and decline until his battle was finally over, these personal achievements gave me a stable place to stand and regroup when my world crumbled. I think he would be proud because he was my biggest supporter in all my attempts  to achieve my dreams.
     I’d love to hear from anyone else who has pursued his or her dream. If not, why not? To my mind no one is too old to go for a dream.

Perspective - again

In the several years since I wrote the below piece I've become more 'comfortable in my own skin,' as I once jotted on a scrap of paper. And even far more at ease if I have to say a few words in front of a group. This late-in-life 'bloom,' as it might be characterized, stood me in good stead a week or so ago as I led a sizable group in a writing workshop. I could not have imagined such a thing in my younger years. Of course, I had lots of support from a dedicated committee. We worked diligently for months to bring the event about and it was one of the most satisfying times of my life. I firmly believe God was with us, helping us, because we truly wanted it to be a help and encouragement for aspiring writers. Comments from those who attended lead us to believe we achieved that goal.

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To escape criticism––do nothing, say nothing, be nothing. That might as well have been my mantra once. I've written before about my crippling shyness during a lot of my life. I look back now and ask myself, why did I waste all those years worrying about what people might think about me. It's doubtful if the things I worried about ever even occurred to anyone. And even if a stranger on a bus did think an unkind or critical thought about me, so what? I'd most likely never see that person again. And if I did, neither of us would probably remember. I've no illusions that I'm a memorable person to most of those who cross my path. I do regret that most of them are not memorable to me either because I don't pay attention to seeing them instead of my own concerns. I value people more than I did in the past. People I meet through the years now seem unique and valuable. We may disagree on some fundamental areas of life, but that just makes them more interesting. Their perspective was shaped by the things they went through in their lives, as my own experiences shaped mine. I was born near the end of the Great Depression, as it's known. My childhood was during the years of World War II. We lived deep in the country so I was barely touched by the war. My father was deferred due to a medical condition plus he had a large family of children to support. Uncles, cousins served and we did hear of the hardships they endured. But my somewhat sheltered childhood existence was far different from someone whose family lived on one of the coasts or my English friend, Eileen, who lived those years in Cambridge, England. But she and her family survived. She married Ron, a Yank airman, and now enriches the lives of all who know her. Would that someday someone could say the same about me.

Friday Jottings-Precious Gift

Sometimes a writing prompt readily brings a subject to mind that you're eager to write about. That was the case with the below column. I wrote about the joy of being closely involved with the birth of a great-grandson, my second. Both are so dear to my heart. Unfortunately divorce happened, and affected them, but they are resilient. Through Mom's remarriage, a stable homelife, a baby sister they love and are protective of, they are thriving, doing well in school. I've just returned from a week's visit with them, so the precious gift column seemed appropriate for this week, though a day late!

Precious Gift

The writing prompt said write about what happened in your life a year ago. Easy. I became a great grandmother for the second time. A chubby boy child came into this tired old world. Before that July day I’d only seen his image on bell-shaped ultra sound screen and pictures. Still incredible to this hopelessly older generation woman, the images showed clearly that he was a boy. His tiny heart beat strong and regular on the monitors. We, his Mommy, Daddy, Grandma and I, loved him already. Since he weighed nine pounds, Mommy was very ready for him to make his appearance. Older brother, Tyler, two-years-old, not so much, though at first he didn’t pay much attention to the new baby, Connor.

Though nine pound babies are still, well, babies, they are somewhat easier to hold onto than five-six pounders. I say somewhat because not only bigger, he was and is, a strong one. Anyone holding him needed to stay alert or he would wriggle and escape. In an incredibly short time he learned if he raised his arms straight up, he could slide right down to the floor and crawl away. Let a door be left open on the other side of a room and an adult must sprint to reach it before him. If there were an Olympic baby crawling event, this child would win, hands and feet down!

Tyler had a sunny disposition as a baby and is a mostly happy toddler. Practically within days Connor was giving a wide smile to anyone who entered his field of vision, and still does. He doesn’t like to be thwarted though in his race for freedom and lets everyone within earshot know it. He didn’t really grasp his first birthday party a few days ago, but he scarfed down most of a big slice of the beautiful cake his Mommy baked. Of course, he wore much of it and a quick bath was in order before gifts could be opened. One day, he’ll understand that he was the precious gift for all of us.

sylvia@sylvianickels.com

How Can They Get Worse?

I shudder to think what subsequent videos will show, after the first three. I don't want to look at them either, as many will not. The old 'out of sight, out of mind' meme works well, sometimes. The only reason I would urge anyone to watch these videos as they are released is that it would motivate enough people to end this plague on our nation. For I truly believe as long as America allows such slaughter of innocents, not to deny that we are guilty of many other blots on our national soul, and other nations are just as or more guilty, we are moving further and further from the protection of God. Our children and grandchildren will pay for them. At the hands of our enemies, most likely. For this also my sorrow is great.

On a personal level, I say this. No matter what my former granddaughter-in-law ever does, I will always and ever thank you, Jesi Radtke Greene, for not opting for abortion and giving birth to my most precious great grandsons. You were so young, and the circumstances were light years from ideal. I didn't know you at all, and my grandson was certain the baby was his. Before you agreed to marry him, I feared the possibility that abortion could impact my family. But it didn't, and instead in my life are two small beings who mean more to me than life itself. God bless you.

Anyone who will watch, here is the link to the 3rd video documenting Planned Parenthood's profitable abortion 'industry'.
Planned Parenthood Shocking Cover-up

After this video, anyone care to wager how long until the first individual or class action lawsuit is filed against PP? How will they prove to greedy 'baby daddies' that they flushed the male or female baby (product) of their sperms's biological union with a female egg instead of selling it?
The video even shows that first trimester 'specimens' are even more valuable. What about the mantra that early abortion is more humane and desirable. Uh-huh. Desirable, as in worth more to the abortion industry?
God help us.

Milestones

After my then new husband and I were married in Villa Rica, GA, we left for a weekend honeymoon in Florida, my first visit to that state. Since our wedding was in the evening and also was delayed for an hour, we stopped in Phenix City, AL to spend the night. Just across the line in Georgia is Ft. Benning, Army training base for brand new soldiers who chose Infantry. I did not and could not have imagined that fifty-four years and a few days later our one and only grandson would be in training at Ft. Benning. Grandpa had served in the Navy, had been out only a couple of years when we married. He would have been proud to be present when his grandson graduates from Army Basic Training, I'm sure. Military service in one branch or the other is a proud tradition in both our families. Most family members did not make the military a career, but some cousins and uncles have done so. I won't say I have no concerns. But I do know that God's angels can watch over my precious grandson even in military service. I will hang onto that and give thanks.

Never Forget

Some with four legs and a sensitive nose