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Gratitude

26 Nov

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Possibly one of my top ten favorite words and something I try to keep in mind when confronted with things I’d prefer not to think about because things could always be worse:

G R A T I T U D E

Perspective is so important and today, like every day, I am so grateful for

  1. My children
  2. My husband
  3. My parents
  4. My brother
  5. My extended family
  6. My friends
  7. Good health
  8. James Taylor
  9. Licorice
  10. Music
  11. Warm chocolate chip cookies
  12. When Harry Met Sally
  13. Medicine and science
  14. Taxi
  15. The NYT crossword puzzle
  16. Laughter
  17. Words
  18. Not turkey — I could skip that
  19. Meatballs
  20. My pizza oven
  21. My grandparents. They were the best.
  22. A well told story
  23. Games of all kinds
  24. Good coffee
  25. The University of Michigan
  26. Shehecheyanu
  27. The gym (not while I’m there, only when I’m leaving)
  28. Frizz Ease
  29. Blow outs
  30. Public School
  31. Kindness
  32. Sunshine
  33. Pickles
  34. Bloody Marys
  35. The ocean
  36. My Kindle
  37. WordPress
  38. My GPS even though she sometimes sucks
  39. The freedoms granted to me in the Bill of Rights
  40. Love

Thank you so very much for reading and for your encouragement. I am grateful for you all.

Shehecheyanu.

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An Open Letter To My Son

19 Mar

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My Sweet Son,

I know there are things you are anxious to try: things that your friends might be doing; things that are wrong. Please wait.

You may not realize it but you are still a child. You have your whole life ahead of you to do grown-up things. I know you may think you’re ready for these things. You are not. You only get one childhood. You should live it as a child.

I wonder if you also know how dangerous some seemingly innocuous things might be. Perhaps even lethal. There are multiple reasons why some activities have minimum legal age limits. One good reason is because your mind and body are not mature enough to handle them. You should respect that. And while we’re on the subject, you should respect girls too. Listen to what they say and remember to be kind always.

It is ok to say “no.” Don’t let anyone ever make you feel like you are lesser than they because you won’t try something stupid. If you say no and that person gives you a hard time, you should lose them as a friend because they are not your “friend.” A true friend would never do that.

I know you are bound to make mistakes in life and it is my job to let you fail and make them. It is the only way you can learn. But you are too young to make some mistakes you may be contemplating. You are too young to pay the price of such errors. You are too young to learn these lessons. Trust me. I am your mom.

Most important, if you do make some wrong decisions, or if your friends do, your father and I will always be here. We respect honesty and will always have your best interests at heart. If for any reason you feel you or a friend is in jeopardy, please call us at once, even if you are unsure. I am more concerned about the safety of you or a friend than lecturing you on a rule you may have broken. I promise.

I’m not going to tell you about the innocent days of my youth when none of this existed and everyone just rode their bikes around until they left for college. That did not happen. There were plenty of ways for kids to get into trouble, just like there are now. And I’m not going to tell you about the car accidents, hospital admissions, and deaths of people I knew who made such decisions. They speak for themselves.

I’m just going to tell you that I get it. That I’ve been there.

Life is full of crossroads. No matter which ones you may reach, I am always here to guide you and to love you, even if you make wrong turns along the way. But please, do not make those turns just yet.

Love always,
Mom

Born Good

4 Jun

Sometimes, people are just born good.

Last week, my 14 year old son came to me:

“Mom, I finally figured out what I want to do with my March Madness winnings. I want to give it to Relay for Life.”

“That’s the fundraiser at your school for The American Cancer Society, right?”

“Right.”

And then my heart caught. My mother is a three time survivor of  breast cancer. She is the most beautiful warrior I have ever seen. She is also the inspiration for this sudden largesse. That and the fact that donations are tied to chances to watch a certain teacher go down in the dunk tank at the school carnival. I told him I loved him. I told him I was proud of him. I told him to sleep on it before he does anything.

My son loves sneakers. LOVES them. He loves a lot of things he could buy himself with his money. He also understands the value of a dollar because he babysits his little brothers and earns every last cent we pay him. But there is a certain depth to him. He gets things. He is understanding. He is a thinker. He is connected.

A few days later, my son found me in the kitchen.

“Mom, I’ve thought about it and I’m going to give the money to charity.”

He showed me a Ziploc full of $125 cash. He was unaware of the grand gesture he was making. It was just an easy decision that made sense.

Later that morning I received a phone call from the school, the caller ID for which always elicits  panic. After the assistant principal told me there was nothing to be alarmed about, I realized why he was calling. He told me that he nearly cried when he discovered my son wanted to give all his money to charity and it was an emotional conversation to say the least. I hung up the phone and wept.

I have been really riding my son all year about his school work. My concern is that it doesn’t matter to him; that he’s not as motivated as he should be; that he’s not competitive enough with himself to do the best he possibly can; that it doesn’t matter. I have been remiss. There are more important things in life. And I was just reminded of that by my son.

When my son came home from school that day, he was excited, he was animated, he was maybe even a little bit proud. He didn’t seem to recognize the grandeur of his action until he told me that for 20 minutes, the teachers (who originally didn’t think they could even accept that high a donation) crowded around him and told him what a wonderful thing he was doing. The superintendent and the principal also spoke to my son about his generosity. And more important, he seemed poised to manipulate the dunk contest results so that one teacher in particular was a goner.

“Did you do this for Nanny?”

“Yes. And Aunt Sandy.”

My beloved aunt who died from lung cancer when my son was only 6. There’s that depth again.

I am so proud of this boy. And I am so disappointed in myself for all those times I pushed him while not focusing on what is really important: he is. And he is not just a grade point average or an extra-curricular activity or some dumb random honor. He is not a high school transcript or a standardized test or an assigned generic task. He is so much more. He is everything.

I can teach him all I want. I can help him with his homework (not math!) and how to organize an essay and how to make a good omelet and how to make his bed and how to do the laundry and how to moonwalk. I cannot teach him to be a good — a really good — person.

Thankfully, he already is.