Showing posts with label mom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mom. Show all posts

Thursday, February 15, 2018

Green Ball



I look for inspiration in writing almost daily. I rarely write when I don’t have a strong, overwhelming NEED to write. I felt that pang to write today. I initially was going to write about something as small as a molecule.  Yup, a molecule. Something so small that looks like a whole other galaxy under a microscope. With all the memes and Facebook videos streaming through our lives, one in particular has stuck in my head. It depicts a giant green ball being led by a rope that appears to be walking it, as if it were a family pet. The title of the video was “This is happiness”. I’ve included it as the photo for my blog. So freaking cute. A myosin protein dragging an endorphin along a filament to the inner part of the brain's parietal cortex which creates happiness. Who knew that a protein is so adorable. I initially was going to write about all the myosin proteins swirling around in our bodies during Valentine’s Day and what not. I initially was going to go into depth into my myocin thresholds yada yada yada. Not today. And please hold that thought about the protein while I go off on another tangent.

I watch the Olympics for the sport of it, of course. I love to see people pushing their limits and living their dreams.; however, it’s more than that to me. I like to watch the ‘aftermath’. After the runs, the twirls, the racing, etc….I like to see who the athletes run to. I like to see a semi-god of an athlete, an epitome of determination and focus, …become a real person. One who searches the crowd of photographers and fans to find their ‘happiness’; their ‘love’; their ‘reasons’. The 17 year old Gold medalist who finishes her half pipe and whips off her snowboard boots and her helmet and says “where’s my mom”.  And as tears of joy run down their faces, which minutes prior were steadfast and focused, I always think that I want to collect their tears. WTF Amy (I can hear you saying that now). I want to take a little vial and collect the tears of these athletes when they are at the pinnacle of their lives. I wonder if their tears, much like the myosin protein, look different then the tears of perhaps someone who is sad, or scared, or reflective. Do their tears have a zillion tiny proteins on leashes walking around in them? Freaking happy protein parade? Do sad people have different looking proteins walking in their tears?

Watching the news this morning we are reminded of the school shootings happening in our lives. They flashed to the Sandy Hook attack. A photograph showed children being led out of the school after the massacre. One little girl’s face in that photo promoted this blog post. Utter fear and terror was on her face. But within her grimacing look I could see that it wasn’t so much what had just occurred within her peaceful little school, but it was a look saying, “I need my mom/dad”. You could actually see that expression. And her tears were steaming down her face and landing on her once dry rainbow t-shirt. That innate NEED for someone or something. I thought of her tears, too! What a contrast there would be if we could see them under the light of a microscope against those in a completely opposite tearful moment. All the events that are occurring inside of us that we don’t even know are happening. I hope that little girl and all these young people have those happy molecule walks that will far outweigh any of the bad stuff.

The shooter…a troubled boy…lived with some family friends, ‘since the death of his mother’ as stated on the news. Perhaps when his body was at it’s lowest point and he couldn’t feel that happiness microscopically running through his body he was also looking for his reason out in the crowd; perhaps that was his mother that was no longer there. And in all the pain and hatred and anger that this horrible, horrible person did to his former classmates, you see how people, whether the gold medalist athlete or the worst possible person imaginable, to the innocent child or the guilty adult; that there is one thing that we all have in common. It can’t be seen but we feel it ever day. It can’t be seen but we show it daily. It can’t be seen but it drives us in both positive and perhaps negative ways. It’s that damn little protein on a leash looking for all the other little protein friends in this big beautiful body of ours. It’s the happiness we feel when we know we are loved and we know we can love that person back, whether we are on the top of a mountain going for the gold or in the darkest depths at the bottom of your hill and see no way out.


My wish for you is to always search for your ‘faces in the crowd’…the ones who make your happiness walk around in your body a million miles over…and never lose faith that rainbows after the rain will dry up someday and you can be at the top of your mountains once again.  

Saturday, May 13, 2017

Saw It




“No one is ever quite ready; everyone is always caught off guard. Parenthood chooses you. And you open your eyes, look at what you've got, say "Oh, my gosh," and recognize that of all the balls there ever were, this is the one you should not drop. It's not a question of choice.” 

Hi Moms, and Dads, and friends who treat those kids as their own, and fellow ‘villagers’ who help to raise them, and dads that are moms, and step moms, and whatever the hell you want to call yourself if you are raising a child that came out of your body or just simply one that lives in your heart…

If you know me (and you all know me by now) I have a love of words…and maybe someday when I am too old or tired to do my figure competitions I will find something to write about and finally write that book. In the meantime I will be happy with putting my thoughts in this blog and sharing my mind with you all. It is just as important to have a healthy mind as it is a healthy body. This is why I saturate myself with self help books, and sermons and inspirational quotes…. I heard a sermon the other day and I thought I would share it with you. “You cannot BE what you do not SEE”…
Oh, but I did SEE it… I saw her at every important event as my eyes searched the crowd for the most important people in the room; I saw it when I stepped in the car after a long day at school and was asked how my day was; I saw it when family vacations were meticulously planned to maximize togetherness; I saw it when I cried, when I laughed, when I hurt, when I was alone, when I was in a crowded room, I saw it when her face was the first thing I saw in the morning and the last voice I heard at night. I saw it when I needed a cheerleader or just an ear. I saw it in the way she held my hand or brushed my hair. I saw it when disease had ravaged her body but she still always had a smile on her face for me. I saw it when her final days were spent here on earth and all she wanted to do was reminisce about the family she raised. I saw it when she left….and our hearts broke. 

I saw it. 

“You cannot be what you do not see”… I saw it….and I’m trying my effing hardest to BE half the Mother that she was to me…so that my kids can SEE it and BE it to their own kids some day…. And even after she has been gone some 20 years now I still SEE it everyday…Happy Mother’s Day Mom.







Sunday, November 27, 2011

Pause



"Once you put the pieces back together, even though you may look intact, you were never quite the same as you'd been before the fall"

One minute you are mowing the lawn, coloring your hair, watching a football game, going to the doctor, doing laundry, making lunch. One event can change your life forever and stop the world.

Last night I met a man who was at the airport with his son (3 1/2 years old). Never at a lose for words, we struck up a conversation. My children were laughing at the little ball of energy we learned to be named Gavin. I even commented that he was a little too outgoing, but a cutie nonetheless. I asked if they were visiting family for Thanksgiving. He said, “No, my wife’s funeral”.

****pause*****

What do you say after you hear that?

Initially he asked me, as I was surrounded by 7 teenagers that were being entertained by his son, if I had a wet napkin or wet wipe because his son was a shade of blue…obviously from eating some candy. I mentioned that I did not have any but the coffee stand might. How cute, I thought…a father, probably divorced, probably went home to visit family for Thanksgiving, bringing his young son. Novice!

…attending his mom’s funeral three days earlier is all I heard now.

Breast caner…fast moving…healthy woman one month prior…had the ‘gene’….moving back to NYC in one month…married 17 years….never had to do the daily tasks before….knows mommy is in heaven…..

We talked about how the GOOD ones are always taken and the evil ones seem to exist just fine. We spoke of the Penn State tragedy and compared the situation to those healthy demons. We talked about why God doesn’t deal an equal hand. He talked. He talked. He talked. I listened.

It gets worse: this little ball of energy was being a typical 3 year old on the plane. They happened to sit one seat behind us on the opposite aisle. A little loud….inquisitive…and didn’t realize that when you have headphones on you have to find your inside voice. I didn’t care. I’m an old pro when it comes to kids. I can tune out the best of them.

Enter stage left: old man sitting across from Gavin. Halfway through the flight he has had ENOUGH. “Can you keep that kid quiet?”, “Get control of your son”, “Just keep him QUIET for Christ’s sake”!

I always teach my kids to be nice to people because you never know what might be going on in their lives. When I was talking to Gavin’s father before the flight he said that he knows his son is a ‘little wild’ right now, but he just is letting him be ‘happy’ and ‘crazy’ because he knows the sadness is coming…..and it will come….probably at the most unplanned of times…

You see, I realized that once you are a mother, YOU ARE A MOTHER! …and not just for your OWN children. I could feel the empty gap in this family’s life. I felt like this mother was connecting this family to me. She was communicating in ways that I believe, but do not understand. I could feel it. Divine intervention? Or simply, fate. I logged into my computer when I got home and searched for her obituary. I wanted to know more. I wanted to know the things that I didn’t, or couldn’t ask, when I was listening. What did she look like? I knew she was 43. What was her education..her job…who were her family….her friends…..

My heart broke for this father who just earned his new titles of widower and single father. A man that at one time probably forgot to say the things he should have said at one time or another. A man who maybe worked too often. Maybe went out with his buddies when he knew he should help with his family. A man who never thought it could happen to him…to them. A man who will wake up this morning and have to explain why mommy is not home from her trip to heaven to a 3 year old. And a man who will continue to fight back tears instead of yell when a stranger thinks that he is doing a bad job as a parent by letting his child be happy and loud when the world is crumbling around him.

Hug your babies. Hug your family. And go lightly on those around you that might appear ‘normal’ but are trying to hold the pieces of their heart together just to appear that way.