"We're all just fragile threads, but what a tapestry we make." – Jerry Ellis

Archive for the ‘family’ Category

Remembering Charlie

Charlie hanging out in the yard.

Charlie hanging out in the yard.

Today, one of my best friends who happens to be my cousin, had to euthanize their family dog, who succumbed to cancer.  Kim and Matt had Charlie since the early days of their marriage, and like most newlywed couples, Charlie the dog was like their first child.  Charlie was exceptionally smart and well-behaved.  In fact, I wish our two dogs now had half his manners!  We all loved Charlie.

We have had to have two dogs euthanized and one died on her own.  Each loss hurt tremendously and I felt like I’d lost one of my best friends.  I pulled this out of my writings that I wrote after we had to put our dog, Amber, to sleep back in 2004.  Today I’d like to dedicate the message Kim, Matt, Joe and Jason in memorial to Charlie!  RIP sweet friend.

HIS EYE IS ON THE SPARROW

This past March, I had to take our beloved dog, Amber, to be put to sleep.  Now, if you’re not an animal lover, you may be thinking, “It’s only a dog.” But if you’ve ever loved a pet you’ll know how difficult it is to make that decision.

I’d had Amber since I was 15 years old—a little over 17 years.  Before I met my husband, had babies and became a “grown up”, I had Amber.  Yes, she was just a dog, but she did teach me a lot about loyalty, unconditional love and devotion.  Though I’d had other pets growing up, she required a bit more care and attention (I couldn’t just leave her in the cage like a guinea pig or hamster), teaching me responsibility and how to nurture another.  And during her puppy “chewing” phase, she taught me patience—I went through a lot of shoes.  She was a wonderful companion.

So, other than memorializing my pet’s memory, what does this have to do with the Bible?  Well, it got me to thinking about where pets belong in God’s kingdom.   I desperately wanted to believe that somehow my dog—my loyal friend—was in some sort of “doggie” heaven.

Once I asked a former co-worker, who happened to be going through seminary, if dogs go to heaven when they die.  He explained to me that the Bible didn’t say anything specific about pets, because back in the time it was written animals were either food or workers.  So, unfortunately, there are no “Rover” verses for me to look up in my Concordance!   Yet we know God created animals, and it does speak of God’s creatures.  The verse that came to me was Luke 12:6-7.  I didn’t remember the words of the passage perfectly, let alone the Scripture reference, but I remembered the song, “His Eye is on the Sparrow”, with the line, “His eye is on the sparrow, and I know that he watches over me.”  So, when I felt ready, I looked up “sparrow” in my Concordance and found where I could look it up.

Call it coincidence (I don’t), but the verse just so happened to be the one the Sunday School kids were talking about the very next day in Chapel at Sunday School.  I’m not sure if my son, Tyler, who was grieving for his pet, made the same connection with that verse that I did.  But I found it comforting.

In the Scripture passage, which really begins with Luke 12:1, Jesus is speaking to his disciples, and an apparently “rowdy crowd” (I call trampling on each other rowdy!)  He starts to warn them about the hypocrisy of the Pharisees.  He tells them not to be afraid of those people who can do physical harm to them, but instead, they should fear Him who “has the power to throw you into hell.”  Not exactly a warm fuzzy, huh?  But he goes on, and what he has to say in verses 6 and 7 is heartwarming to me.  “Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies?  Yet not one of them is forgotten by God.  Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered.  Don’t be afraid;  you are worth more than many sparrows.”  In other words, the mere sparrow was just a lowly creature not given much value here on Earth.  But still God cares for it, knowing each of His creations intimately.  This Scripture gives me hope and gives us a glimpse at a God who lovingly created our world, down to the tiniest, seemingly insignificant creature.

Our pets, creations of the same loving Father who made us, have a place with Him.  Now does this mean dogs and other pets go to heaven?  I don’t know.  And I am certain that there are numerous arguments to be had about an animal’s soul or lack thereof.  But a God who loves the insignificant sparrow created it all, and I can put my faith in that fact.  “His eye is on the sparrow, and I know that he watches over me.”

Category:

dog lovers, faith, family

Who I Run 4

I didn’t start running until I was 38 years old.  Truthfully, I didn’t get into fitness period until I had Erin at age 30 and was tired of going up sizes when I went shopping.  But running has been different than just working out for me.

I started running because of Girls on the Run.  If you’ve never heard of it, it’s an organization that was started as a character development to empower girls in grades 3-5 to be healthy and strong.  As they say, it’s so much more than a running program.  For ten weeks, we have lessons that cover topics from healthy choices with our food to bullies and being assertive.  Our team does a community service project each season (our school participates in both the spring and fall seasons).  I cannot say enough good things about this national program, and I give total credit to becoming a runner to Girls on the Run.  Even if I’m kind of old to be called a “girl”, I think I have gotten as much out of this program as the girls do.  After all, who can’t hear enough that being assertive and standing up for yourself is wonderful?

The very first 5K I ran was with Girls on the Run, and I’d never participated in any organized run before.  That first one I will never forget—I felt like I’d just done something tremendous and I was so proud of our little team.  That was five years ago, when we scraped together enough girls to have a full team of eight girls.  Now we have over 30 girls each season.  The atmosphere at a Girls on the Run race is very party-like and fun.  Now that I’ve run a lot of organized races, I realize that it’s pretty unique in the tremendous amount of positive vibes that are just out there at that event.  Truly amazing.

This past fall, I became acquainted with another organization that makes my running more meaningful.  It’s called Who I Run 4.  It was started when the founder, Tim Boyle, promised to run for a friend who was battling bilateral hip dyspasia—a friend who COULDN’T run.  The concept is simple, yet so powerful.  Runners sign up to be matched with a buddy.  Buddies can be newborn babies to adults who physically are unable to run.  Runners dedicate their miles to their buddy.  You connect on Facebook and a lot of the pairs actually meet eventually.  The relationships that develop are such a beautiful thing.

My buddy is a little boy named Niko.  He isn’t even a year old, and has many health issues.  First, I have to say, he is absolutely adorable and has the most beautiful, happy smile. He has a very rare syndrome called 2Q37 Deletion—most babies with this syndrome don’t survive the pregnancy.  But his mom, Briane, who I keep in touch with, is an amazing mom.  Her posts are so full of hope and love for her baby.  I really do think about Niko and his family every time I’m running and they inspire me to be a more grateful person.  Whenever I want to be reassured that there are loving, caring people in the world, I just read through the posts on Facebook for our group.

Running has become so much more than the physical activity of turning over my legs.  It represents me when I’m being my best self—okay, maybe not my messy hair or my smelly sweat—but the me that strives for more and is willing to work for it.  I realize that it’s in part due to the endorphins, but when I run I’m reminded of the many joys in my life.  And they are something to celebrate.

 

For more information on Girls on the Run see www.girlsontherun.org

For more information on Who I Run 4 see http://www.whoirun4.com

Category:

family, Girls on the Run, running, Who I Run 4

What Makes a Great Person

I asked each of my children when they were younger, “What makes a great person?”.  While none of them gave me great insights into their psyche, I did get an impression of what a great person isn’t—a bully.  They preferred people who didn’t hit them or do mean things to them.  Surprise.

 My mother-in-law, Karen, had to write a paper in college on this topic, and it got me to thinking, too.  What does make a great person?  One hundred years from now, if all we have to look back on are the likes of US Weekly or TMZ, we might think it has much to do with a person’s claim to fame, Hollywood romance or their stylish red carpet attire.  Of course, Hollywood’s greatness gauge is probably not the same as an average person’s, either.  In our modern media, we may run across a great philanthropist or scientist who discovers the cure for a horrible disease.  Truly these people are noble, and maybe even “great”.  Yet, when I think about it, I’ve known a lot of great people who will never be remembered in a magazine or newspaper article, yet their lives have impacted mine with undeniable, unique greatness.  Using my kids’ method of deductive reasoning to determine greatness, great people are not necessarily famous or well-known to others outside their circle of family and friends.  So since I know a little about what greatness isn’t, I decided to give this matter of what greatness actually is some thought, and I’ve come to these conclusions:

Great is a generic and overused adjective.  Sounds cynical, doesn’t it?  But we have to put this out there straight away.  Apparently I was a “great friend” in junior high and high school.  My son brought up some of my yearbooks and reminded me of this fact.  Many of these same people also thought I was “sweet” and even “2 good 2 be 4 gotten”.  Imagine that, I was a legend of greatness in my own time and didn’t even know it.  I also didn’t actually remember a lot of those who held this opinion of me in junior high.  If a great person doesn’t remember those who thought she was great, does the greatness cease to exist?  Hmmmm….

 Greatness, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder.  To the struggling entrepreneur, a successful, self-made businessperson could be the role model for greatness.  Likewise, to the woman in the throes of raising young children, the woman who raised seemingly happy children into responsible and respected adults may be her hero.  People who fit the description of how we wish our future selves to be are “great” on an individual level, without question.  After all, who wants to aspire to mediocrity?

 Greatness comes from within.  In my limited experience, those I’ve thought of as great have similar character traits.  These people are a mixture of men and women, thin and not-so-thin, tall and short, high school drop-outs and holders of multiple educational degrees, businesspeople and homemakers.  Amongst their traits in common?  Generous, patient, compassionate, self-sacrificing, have empathy for others, kind-hearted, energetic, willing to learn from, as well as teach others, and truthful.  There are more, but these seem to re-surface time and time again in people I believe to be great.  Almost any person can demonstrate one or more of these characteristics to some degree.  But great people are consistently great, and usually in more than one area.  Think “good” person, times 50,000.  Incidentally, the greatest also tend to be humble about it. 

 Those who surround themselves with greatness can’t help but to absorb it themselves.  No, I’m not talking about those who ride others’ coattails to make a name for themselves.  But greatness can be contagious!  Think of that one person (you may be lucky enough to have more than one) who brings out the best in you, the one who makes you try harder and not give up.  How do you feel when you spend some time with that person?  Energized and ready to do more to make the world a better place?  A truly great person wants you to be great, too.  This is also something to keep in mind when that little green-eyed monster rears its ugly head when your best friend gets that promotion or loses that last twenty pounds!

 Greatness makes a difference.  A person doesn’t have to organize a world-wide rally for peace and ending hunger to make a difference.  The person in rush hour traffic who lets you get over into the left-turn lane that you missed because you were distracted won’t be getting a shiny metal, but they could make the difference between whether or not you get to your daughter’s kindergarten graduation ceremony in time to see her get her diploma.  Small differences matter, too.

 Clearly, greatness is hard to define, and can also be confused with other noteworthy attributes.  Yet it still can serve as a benchmark for behavior.  Does a particular activity serve a greater good?  While that question may be answered more easily with what behaviors are not great, taking the time to define for oneself what it means to be great can make a good person an asset, maybe even a great asset, to this world.

Category:

family, writing

From my front porch…

The lone surviving bird from our front porch.

The lone surviving bird from our front porch.

A few years ago, I was surprised to find that a bird had made her nest in my artificial flower arrangement hanging on our front porch.  At first, the little babies were nearly naked and so very tiny.  My three young children and I took a picture of them each day and I grew attached to them.  On his way to work one morning, my husband, Darrell, noticed that something—a cat most likely—had gotten to the nest and knocked the whole thing off the wall.  There were no signs of any of the babies, and I sadly began to clean up the mess.  I lifted up the flower holder, and hidden underneath it was one little baby bird.  I carefully picked him up in a towel and put him and the nest back on the wall, afraid that my touching him would make the mother bird reject him.  Later that day, Mama Bird came back and resumed nurturing her last remaining baby.  I continued observing his growth, taking pictures regularly.  A week or so later I was standing on the driveway and witnessed Baby Bird (now a young “teen” bird) take his first flight.  I never saw him again, as he was ready to move from that nest into the great big world, but I truly believe that I was meant to see him off and know that he had flown away on his own.

Category:

family, nature

Thoughts on Being a Girl Scout Mom

I’m the Girl Scout Cookie Mom for daughter Emily’s Girl Scout Troop.  I was the co-leader for several years, but we merged with another troop, so I was able to step down from that role.  I am not sure how much I can say I was a “leader”.  My co-leader and one of my best friends, Kelly, was the true leader of the group…organized, always planning and ahead of schedule.  I was more like the warm body that was there to say there was enough adult supervision to comply with the ratio of adult to girl requirement.  In fact, one time I got my girls in trouble with the lifeguard at camp because I was telling them all about the Nestea Plunge and they were trying it out.  Turned out that they were only allowed to go into the pool feet-first, and this was a clearly a violation of that rule.  So much for me being a good role model.

For several years I was the main leader for Erin’s troop as well.  We were a very laid back group.  Yes, we earned badges, did plenty of community service and sold cookies and such, but my co-leader and I made the decision to make our troop meetings fun so that they didn’t feel like they were in a class at school.  Sometimes our meetings were chaotic, but I remember laughing a lot at those meetings.  Sometimes we’d finish early so we’d just play silly games like the one where you can only speak in questions.  This group of girls was hilarious and understood my sense of humor.  It was fun while it lasted, but by the time they were entering Middle School in sixth grade it was time to move on.  Our troop disbanded and Erin joined another troop, determined to stay in Scouts.  I help out now with that troop, too, but basically my role is that of an involved Mom, which I like.

So it’s Girl Scout Cookie time, a time full of selling cookies and holding cookie booths (ugh!), as well as the time when I wonder if my daughters will continue on next year in Scouts.  I always say our family would have so much more free time if they quit, but I think a part of me would really be sad.  I’ve made wonderful friends and memories through Girl Scouts, and so have my girls.  The women who organize the events in our Neighborhood are incredible—very organized, very purposeful and energetic.  I wish I could be a little more like they are.  They are a compassionate group, too.  Amongst them have been those who have lost their homes to fires, recovered from surgeries and served in Afghanistan leaving their family here in the states.  I’ve never seen them fail to selflessly reach out and make a difference for those who need a helping hand.  I’m blessed to have known them.

No matter if my girls stay in Scouts or not, it has definitely had an impact on their lives, and mine as well, that goes well beyond earning badges and doing community service.  We have seen first-hand how communities flourish when there is a group effort and how making a difference can begin with just an idea and a little elbow grease.  We’ve learned valuable skills, like first aid and the best way to build a campfire (I still opt for matches instead of the magnesium block!)  But most memorable of all to me is the friendships that form when one spends time trying new things together—even if it might get you in trouble with the lifeguard!

Category:

family, Girl Scouts

Technical Competency Thoughts of a Newbie Blogger

I like to think that I’m technically proficient.  Sit me down in front of a computer program, and I can navigate my way through it eventually.  Then, when I want a program to do that really cool thing—you know, the one that automatically does ____, I will spend hours trying to figure out how to do it, normally through trial and error (lots of error).  In the process, I tend to learn more than I ever set out to about how to do other really cool things with a software program.

At my job as an Administrative Assistant, I use Excel spreadsheets a lot.  Over the past year alone, I have learned to manage and maneuver data more than I thought was possible.  Sometimes the reason I’ve discovered how to do something was out of sheer laziness.  For example, I didn’t feel like typing the same thing over and over again, so I learned how to write macros.  At other times, I learn something out of desperation. (Why is this spreadsheet merging all these cells on the bottom of the page I’m trying to print?)  Either way, I’ve come out smarter than I was before—although I like the luxury of learning because I want to, not because a report is due to the boss ASAP.

Setting up this blog has been kind of a mixture of both.  WordPress is not really difficult…I’ve just never done this before.  The closest thing I’ve done like it is setting up a little yolasite for my Girl Scout troop—an effort I abandoned after only about a year because I found out parents never checked it anyway.  And the good folks at WordPress have tons of helpful tutorials and such to help out a newbie like me. Problem is, I just don’t really know what it is I even want to ask at this point!  But I’m learning.  I’m learning because I accidentally deleted a change I made and I wanted to find it again.  I’m learning because my daughter, looking over my shoulder, pointed out that the picture I chose first was not very flattering—couldn’t delete that one fast enough! 

I feel very comfortable at this point experimenting, and it’s so much fun to do that anyway.  The demon every writer knows all too well is that inner critic.  She’s very cruel and stifling.  Writing to post to a blog is so different from anything I’ve done before.  I don’t really have to answer to anyone but my own momentary whim.  It is so freeing.

So I’m hoping the enthusiasm on my honeymoon with my blog continues. Of course, I’m hoping that six months from now I’m looking back on this time as a more experienced blogger.  But not as a tired,  I-gotta-post-something-this-week kind of gal. I want to be like the kindergartner who looks back on her pre-school days as “when I was a little kid”.  Happy blogging!

Category:

family, writing

Life in My Head

I think I read too many books and watched way too much TV growing up.  I have a very romantic view of how the world should be, how every problem has a clear cut answer that is reachable in a half hour to two hour time period (depending on sitcom or movie).  Experts say that people in my generation do suffer from that.  We want forensics teams like the ones on CSI to tell us every detail, even the thought process of the murderer, and give us not only the undeniable proof of who is guilty, but why they committed the crime.  Personally, I also want every rift in a relationship to be settled, and by settled I mean all hurts forgotten, at the end of the day.  Ah, wouldn’t it be grand!

Alas, we live our lives in the real world, where there are no scripts and no safety nets.  Feelings get hurt. People have agendas. Procrastination rules.  Clothes need to be laundered.  (Have you ever noticed that in movies and TV no one ever has to do laundry except if it takes them down to the laundry room where BAD things usually happen?) In the real world, we have the everyday task of just living life.

I think that’s why I do live my life in my head at times.  Not always—there’s enough reality in my life to keep me grounded–but in my head, I’m not that middle age Mom walking into the grocery store.  I’m the glamorous, but cool-under-pressure undercover cop who knows the butcher has a secret I need to bust wide open.  And that guy at the gym?  Well, he didn’t always bench press like that—he started working out to get into shape after his girlfriend walked out on him for his ripped ex-best friend.

Yes, I realize that makes me sound a little crazy—or a lot like a Walter Mitty (the book, not the movie).  What’s funny is that, in real life, I hate dramatic scenes because I’m actually pretty boring—you might say a stability freak.  I’m glad I’m happily married and don’t have those roller coaster emotions of young love.  And don’t get me started on confrontations!  So for me, making up outrageous little backstories on the usual suspects is my way of spicing up life just a little.  It’s why I love “real” ghost stories, where some paranormal phenomenon occurring is explained by a story of what happened 100 years ago.  To this day she roams the hallway in her long, wedding dress, mourning the loss of her groom…

I suggest you try it sometime, if it isn’t something second nature to you already.  I’ll warn you though—it’s kind of addictive.  Endless possibilities—and you get to make the ending whatever you want.   I’ll bet it even wards off dementia in those later years.  So the next time you’re driving down the road and at the stop sign that hawk turns to look you straight in the eye—was it really a bird?  Or could it be the long departed soul of the warrior searching for his young, Indian princess bride?

Category:

family, writing

Welcome to The Lighthearted Dragonfly Blog

It’s 2014 and I’m finally blogging! After much internal dialogue (and debate), I’m putting “it” out there. You see, “it” was what all the debate was about. What do I have to add to the internet that’s not already been blogged, tweeted and posted by ten thousand other people already?  Maybe nothing new, wild and crazy, but perhaps that’s not the point.

I love a lot of stuff.  That is, I enjoy a lot of stuff.  Stuff like being a wife and Mom, my friends, running, writing, my dogs, trying new recipes, wine, exploring and deepening my faith, being in a Book Club, experiencing the curve ball in life of aging parents, hanging out at the Lake, finding ways to avoid housework, finding ways to get excited about housework.  You get the idea.  I especially love connecting with other people who enjoy a variety of things too.  I like hearing their thoughts on all these things and the feeling that there are other people out there that have a single, fragile thread of a commonality with me.  That someone might read something I’ve written and think, “I know exactly what she means!”

So why The Lighthearted Dragonfly? I have always loved dragonflies and how beautiful and delicate they are.  Especially the blue ones. They apparently like me, too–they seem to land on me often.  When trying to think of a blog name (not as easy as I thought it would be) I found a website that talked about dragonflies and their meaning.  It said they symbolized transformation, joy and lightness of being.  I latched onto that.  How inspiring to envision the slender, iridescent dragonfly, full of lightness and joy, perched on my shoulder as I blogged away.  At least that’s how I envisioned it.  I have found dragonflies spark my creative muse.  And they make me happy.

So thanks for taking the time to visit my blog today.  Hope you return often and chime in on a topic now and then.  Until next time…

Category:

book club, dog lovers, faith, family, Girl Scouts, nature, recipes, running, writing