One Boy, One Girl - A Love Story

A successful marriage requires falling in love many times, always with the same person.

~Mignon McLaughlin~

Once upon a time, a girl was asked by her cousin if she'd consider going on a blind date.  Now, this girl had never been on a blind date before and had heard all the stories of how awful they were.  The girl's cousin and her boyfriend both assured her that this boy was different.  They had all gone to high school together and he was a real good guy they promised.  He was even a Marine, they told her.  The girl was skeptical but after much prodding and cajoling, she finally agreed.

The night of the big date arrived and while the girl was getting ready, her mother came into her room and told her they were all here.  "What does he look like?" the girl asked her mother.  "He looks like a Marine" was the answer.  Not sure what that meant, the girl finished getting dressed and then went into the living room where she had to agree with her mother - he DID look like a Marine.

Now the girl was extremely shy so the date was pretty uneventful.  After it was over, the boy walked her to the door, said goodnight and left without even a goodnight kiss on the cheek.  The girl was sure she had royally blown that encounter and really didn't care because she felt a bit awkward around the boy.

The boy didn't call or attempt to get in touch with the girl for several weeks and then one day, the girl's cousin called the girl and told her that the boy wanted to take her to the annual Marine Corps Ball.  The girl didn't know what to say.  She had been dating a couple of other boys off and on - no commitments - just casual dates.  She finally decided that it might be fun to go to a Ball but she still hadn't seen the boy since their disastrous date.

During those weeks of no contact, the girl's cousin had married her boyfriend and they moved a couple of blocks from the girl.  The girl used to visit the cousin and on one of those visits, the cousin snuck into the kitchen and called the boy to tell him the girl was there.  The boy came right over.  The girl was surprised and a bit embarrassed.

The boy asked her if she had gotten his message and the girl said she had.  After a short pause, the boy said "Well?"  "Well what?" asked the girl.  "Are you going to answer the question?"  "What question?" the girl replied. "You haven't asked me anything."  The boy laughed, said okay and then very politely asked the girl if she would accompany him to the Marine Corps Ball.  The girl said yes.

Now, the girl was still dating the other two fellas - there still were no commitments or promises made so the girl felt free to play the field.  One evening when the girl had a date with one of the other fellas, the boy paid her a surprise visit and was confused when he walked up the walk with another fella and the girl's father came out, chuckled, lowered his head and walked by the two suitors without saying a word.

The girl was getting ready when her mother came into her room and told her that  her date was here.  So is the boy, the mother added and then asked 'what are you going to do?'  The girl told her that she was going on the date because she had agreed to go and the boy would just have to get over it.  "After all," the girl said, "no one has made any commitments here".  The mother agreed.

When the girl came out, the boy had figured out what was going on and bowed out gracefully.  The girl went on her date but kept thinking about how awkward that must have been for the boy.

The night of the Marine Corps Ball arrived and when the boy picked the girl up, he was in full dress blues.  The girl lost all sense about herself and kept staring at the boy all night with "that look" as it was described to her much later.  The boy and the girl had their first dance to the theme from "Love Story" and that pretty much clinched things for the girl.

The day after the Ball, the girl called the other two fellas and told them she couldn't see them anymore.  There still were no commitments but the girl was no longer interested in the other two suitors.  A few weeks later, the boy proposed and the girl said yes.  A year later, the boy and girl were married.

That was 39 years ago today and you've probably guessed that my husband and I are the boy and girl.  It's been a rocky road with some really deep pot holes along the way but we've weathered the storm and have come out all the stronger.

It's not hard to stay married for a long time - just don't split up.  The hard part is making it work and staying together when you would rather just give up and leave.  We considered divorce ourselves at one point but for some reason, we just talked about it and never pursued it.  We're both glad we didn't.

A few weeks ago, we were telling our sons about us back then and I told them all for the first time what was going through my mind as the preacher was asking if I promised to 'love and honor' this man forever.  Every fiber of my being was screaming at me to "RUN!  GET OUT NOW BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE!"  Instead, my mouth was saying "I DO".  After admitting this, my husband squeezed my hand and said "I'm glad you didn't".  You know what?  I'm glad I didn't too.

A Different Perspective

God has no religion
~Mahatma Gandhi~

I have always said that religion is man made.  I had no idea I was in such good company or that my thought wasn't original.  There I go again thinking I'm all that with a cherry on top to boot.  But I digress. 

When something is done in the name of 'religious freedom' what exactly does that mean?  Supposedly it means that every religion has the right to co-exist peacefully.  Nice concept.  When the first colonists came to the New World, they did so for religious freedom.  Apparently they meant religious freedom for them and their religion.  Their tolerance did not extend to other religions.

The Puritans of the Massachusetts Bay Colony were some of the biggest persecutors of the Quakers and, in fact, passed a law that Quakers were not allowed in their settlement.  Likewise, in early Maryland, a law was enacted that barred Catholics from practicing openly and went so far as to ban Catholics from holding positions of authority.  And then there are the atheists who demand freedom from religion.  Personally, I think that's a redundant concept since we all have the right to choose our religion or not to choose, I would think.

So, here's what I don't quite grasp:  why is religious freedom an issue?  Don't all various religions in Christianity worship the same God?  It's those religions that worship someone or something else - or those that worship nothing - that is different.  Allah, Buddha, Krishna, Confucius, the various gods of the Greeks and Vikings - none of them are the one God, the creator of the universe and mankind.  Should not the issue be freedom to worship who we want rather than how we worship?  Isn't that the real freedom?

Maybe I think too simply, but I don't get why so many have so little tolerance for anyone who thinks differently from themselves.  My God tells us to 'love others as we love ourselves'.  That seems pretty straightforward to me.  He didn't add a condition that "as long as they believe as you do", did He?  My God loves everyone equally - yes, even those who don't worship Him.  He has given us free will to choose who we will worship - or not to worship anyone.

I know I'm not the only one who feels this way, so, again, I ask: what's the real issue here?

About September 11

The one thing that terrorist cannot do -- not one of them, not 10 of them, not 10,000 of them -- they can't change who we are.

~Gen. Colin Powell~

Twelve years and the memory is as clear as if it were today.  It's one of those times in history that no matter how long it's been, you still remember where you were and what you were doing when it happened.  You can still remember the feelings that washed over you - the disbelief, the fear, the anger, the helplessness, the uncertainty of what was going to happen now and the overwhelming need to reach out to those we love to make sure they were alright.

This year seems to be more intense than any of the past annual observances - at least it seems to me that's the case.  I think it's because there's so much happening at this point in time that is causing a knot in collective stomachs of most Americans.  Well, in MY stomach anyway.

I think it began when AMPAC (American Muslim Political Action Committee) decided to have one million Muslims march in Washington DC to demand their civil rights be protected.  Okay, fine, I don't see why their civil rights are any less protected than anyone else's but, okay, let them march.  But on THIS particular day?  Of all the 365 days in a year, why would they pick the one day on which most Americans are not very sympathetic to them?  It shows a total lack of respect and compassion for what happened on that horrific day twelve years ago.  I believe it's not only disrespectful and discompassionate (is that even a word??) but also comes across as blatantly throwing it in our faces.

Then, along comes a group of bikers who decide to take two million bikes to Washington to protest the Muslims protest - protesting a protest - that's a new one but I like it!  Now here's where it starts to get, um, wow - I can't think of a word to use!  Funky?  Weird?  Oh, I know - how about discriminatory?  Yeah, this is where it starts to get discriminatory.  The Muslims were granted a permit while the bikers were denied theirs.  According to one of the co-founders of the bikers organization, their permit was denied because it was a weekday, it would tie up traffic and the police force didn't have enough manpower to block off all the roads.

God bless our biker community.  They're nothing if not resilient.  No permit?  No problem - "we'll go anyway and just obey all the traffic laws" they said.  Wouldn't you know that "they" (whoever the proverbial "they" are) would have none of that?  Sorry bikers but the President has decided to give a speech at the same place where you planned to be so the roads will have to be closed - you know, for security reasons.  Resilience rises again and the bikers said 'no problem - we'll just change our route but we'll have to keep it private - you know, for security reasons'.

I have to admit that this determination from the biker group has my heart swelling with a sense of patriotic pride that I've not felt in a very long time.  It feels good to know that not only are there more than two million Americans who still have a sense of what our great nation is all about but that they are also willing to take a stand and not let anything stop them.

You know what's the kicker?  These bikers wouldn't even be doing this if the Muslim group hadn't chosen this particular day for their protest.  I don't know anyone who wants to deny them their civil rights but ya know, I for one (and I suspect there are millions who agree with me) don't feel one iota of compassion for them on this day of all days.  If they want Americans to support their so-called "cause", then they should have picked another day.

God bless the USA

To Ink or Not to Ink

Tattoo.  What a loaded word it is, rife with associations to goons, goofs, bikers, tribal warriors, carnival artists, drunken sailors and floozies.

~Jon Anderson, "Epidermal Dalis," Chicago Tribune, 6 October 1994~

I do try very hard to be as non-judgmental as possible but, in all honesty, I think the above quote probably explains my opinion of tattoos better than I have ever been able to explain it.  Almost everyone who knows me knows I am NOT a fan of tattoos.  Having said that, I have to say that I'm trying very hard to not just accept that almost everyone I love has them but to actually change my ideas about them.

My youngest son was the one who first opened my eyes to the possibility that I might subconsciously judge people with tattoos.  Once the seed was planted, I nurtured it until it became a full-blown self-realization.  I DID associate tattoos with the seedier side of life.  I have to add, though, that I firmly believe that having heard my grandfather express regret over his tattoos all of his life and his plea to my grandmother to make sure they were covered when he was laid out for viewing in his coffin had a lot to do with my negative opinion of tattoos.

This weekend was probably my biggest hurdle for accepting that tattoos do not define a person's heart or moral values.  My own husband - this man who I have lived with and loved for 39 years - got his first tattoo.  He is a former Marine so what else would he get besides an Eagle, Globe & Anchor?  How can I NOT like that?  One of my arguments against tattoos is that they are permanent and how can a person possibly know that they will still love the tat after some years have passed?  My husband's new "skin art" blew that theory out of the water.  He will never regret his choice - I'm certain of that.  Frankly, I can't see there ever coming a time when I don't like it either.

My acceptance is still in its infancy so it's still being nurtured.  I will never like anything demonic but I will do my level best to remember that it's not up to me to like what someone else has on their own body.

Who knows - maybe this new found realization of mine may change so drastically that I may eventually get my own tat - maybe a picture of my full body on each breast so that when I'm old(er) I will finally be tall and thin...  (thanks, Angela, for that one-liner - I owe you)

Life, Death, Faith and Proof

No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don’t want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life’s change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new.
~Steve Jobs~

It seems that for a good while now, I've been preoccupied with thoughts of death.  Not mine - death in general.  I think that stems from the fact that so many I've cared about have passed on in a very short time. Since March of 2012, I've lost a mother-in-law, 3 uncles, an aunt, a brother and a step-sister.  One of the uncles, the aunt and step-sister were on my step-father's side and I wasn't really close to any of them.

My mother-in-law had been sick and her death wasn't unexpected.  She had lived a long and good life.  Everyone who knew her loved her and celebrated her life.  As much as I miss her, I'm comfortable in knowing that she's with God and is whole again and happy.

My brother, also, had been sick and, again, his death was not unexpected but it was such a different experience from losing my mother-in-law.  I had only recently learned of this brother and developed a close affection - yes, even love - for him.  He was younger than I and from what little I learned about him on my own and what I also learned from others, he was a good man, kind and loving who cherished his family.  Even though I knew his time was short and that we would never be able to make memories, I was still caught off-guard when my sister-in-law told me he was gone.

Uncle Doodle was a shock.  I had seen him just a month before he passed and he seemed to be doing so well.  In fact, he knew we were stopping by to visit on our way to see our granddaughter.  He had spent the entire morning cooking for us - baked ham, barbecued ribs, corn on the cob - and Lord knows what else!  When his daughter called me a month later and told me he was gone, I was flabbergasted.

That brings me to Uncle Howard.  He had been having health issues and had been recently released from a second stay in the hospital when he had to be readmitted.  Even so, I still thought he would recover.  As did my aunt.  She told me that she had no clue on that last morning that the day would end as it did.

It struck me a little harder with each death that the generation just above me is quickly disappearing.  My own generation has begun its demise with my brother and step-sister.  How can one NOT think of one's own mortality?

The natural progression from there is wondering about life after death and the faith that there is more in store for us.  Of course, that makes me think of atheists and I start to feel sorry for them that they are ignorant and just don't get it.  They don't get that it's pure and uncomplicated faith that's important.  The arrogance of them to demand proof!  I have to wonder: do they (atheists) want proof for every thing they believe?  Do they believe in aliens from outer space or ghosts?  If they DO believe in ghosts, then wouldn't they have to believe there's a spirit inside of us?

Science was one of my least favorite subjects in school.  Maybe that's because I'm not all about getting "proof" and am, in fact, quite okay with not knowing every single detail about life, death and God.  I believe in Him and I believe in Heaven.  I have faith and that's all that matters to me.  Maybe that's the problem with atheists - they can't see far enough beyond their own ignorance to know that we can't possibly know everything and that some things just have to be taken on faith.

So there you go.  I spend a lot of time thinking about death and the people I've lost over the years.  I worry about atheists and wonder how to change their minds.  I don't want anyone to not make it to Heaven but I know there are some who won't.  I just pray that none of those who I love are among them.

Tolerance and Differences

"How are we going to get rid of racism? Stop talking about it!"
~Morgan Freeman~

Recently, I was called a bigot because I stood in defense of Paula Deen and dared to ask the question why something she did 25 years ago was not okay but something President Obama did 25 years ago was okay.  I was quite taken aback and a little more than surprised.  I have since removed that person from my life.  No big loss, in my opinion.

During the presidential election of 2008, I was very clear to those in my close circle of friends and my family that I did NOT support Barack Obama for president.  I was told that I didn't support him because he was black.  Again, taken aback and a little more than surprised.  My comeback was that there were so many other and more important reasons to not support him that race wasn't even on the list.

I find these comments to me to be hurtful, first and foremost, but they also tell me that those who make them really don't know me.  But that's not the point of this blog.

When President Obama did drugs 25 years ago, it's generally accepted that it was a result of the times.  During the 70's and 80's it was pretty commonplace for the younger generation (including 20-somethings and 30-somethings) to experiment with drugs.  Aren't most people today given a pass for any drugs they may have done then?

The racial slurs Paula Deen made 25 years ago were also a result of the times.  The Civil Rights movement was still on an uphill climb.  How many other people have done the same thing with little or no consequence?  If the corporations who fired her think they made an example of her with their supposed 'zero tolerance' for bigotry, they failed miserably.  All they did was send a message that if someone said something years ago, keep it to yourself.

The above quote by Morgan Freeman was taken from an interview with Mike Wallace on 60 Minutes.  I think he's on to something.  We're constantly bombarded by the media about our differences.  Why are our differences pointed out but our commonalities are overlooked?  Isn't it true that when something is never mentioned, it's eventually forgotten? You can watch the excerpt here:  Morgan Freeman on Racism.

We are all human beings and should be treated equally.  I, for one, am tired of having the media lead us around by the nose and emphasizing our differences.  I'm with Morgan on this one.

Is Inequality Ever the Right Thing?

"The worst form of inequality is to try to make unequal things equal"
~Aristotle~

I've been reading with slight interest about the firing of Paula Deen for racial slurs she made many years ago.  Full disclosure - I'm not a fan.  I'm sure she's a lovely woman and a fantastic cook but I've never gotten the warm fuzzies from her.  In fact, I've always felt that there's much about her that's phony and unreal.

Having said that, I have to say that I think she's been treated unfairly by her employers.  Was she wrong in using racial slurs?  Oh hell yes!  Do I believe she is being targeted by those employers as a way to make themselves look good?  Again, oh hell yes!  She is absolutely being held up as an example.  It does give me pause when I think about the treatment of Paula and I have to wonder - is she the only person who uses - or has used - racial slurs in those corporations from which she was fired?  My guess would be a resounding "NO!"

I totally get that celebrities have a completely different scale when it comes to what is and isn't acceptable.  Many of our celebrities are role models for our children.  I get that.  What I don't get is why it's not okay for some celebrities to have made a mistake, an error in judgment or even voiced an ignorant opinion years ago but it's perfectly fine for the Lindsey Lohans of the world to consistently and continually make a mockery of our judicial system and use the revolving doors at rehab centers.

I watched Paula Deen on the Ancestry.com sponsored tv-show "Who Do You Think You Are?" when her ancestry was traced.  She had not traced her roots before the tv show but "knew" her ancestors never kept slaves because it was a horrible practice.  And when the truth came out that her ancestors DID in fact own slaves, she was horrified and embarrassed.  Really?  C'mon, Paula - your roots are all in Georgia.  Your ancestors were plantation owners.  Who do you think worked those plantations?

Calling anyone a derogatory name is never acceptable in my opinion.  When that 'derogatory name' becomes a slur - not just racial but ethnic, religious, moral or based on a lifestyle, it's reprehensible. What's worse is when those slurs reflect the true nature of the person using them.

Is Paula Deen a bigot?  I have no idea.  I don't know the woman personally so that's not for me to say.  I will say this, though: if what she has said in defense of herself is true, then she's clearly an idiot.  No slur intended.

I'm Not As Old As I Am

The time for action is now. It's never too late to do something.

~Carl Sandburg~

Just about a week ago, I started a weight loss program of sorts.  I think there were several factors that motivated me to begin but I have to say that the biggest one was a recent weekend trip to Snow Shoe Ski Resort in West Virginia.

Like any good ski resort, it's in the mountains.  As my husband and our friends were walking seemingly without effort up and down the village, I was lagging behind, huffing and puffing.  I hated being so out of shape and started to think about a cruise that we're taking this fall.  I didn't want to be out of breath and lacking energy and not able to have fun.

Something happened to me on that weekend get-away.  I came home with a sense of self-confidence and a feeling of joy I'd never felt before.  I don't know what caused  it or why it happened but I'm glad it did.  I've heard people talk about feeling joy but I just thought they were happy.  It's absolutely not the same thing.  I've been happy but this feeling of joy was a strange concept to me.  I think my passion for life itself went off the chart.

Anyway, a few days later, I got a catalogue in the mail that was full of beach wear.  I had never heard of the company and had no clue why I was on their mailing list but I thumbed through it anyway.  I slowly skipped past the bikinis but paused at the cover ups and sun dresses.  I was picturing myself wearing some of them but knew I wouldn't even try them on at my current weight.  I thought about all of that for a couple of days and then made the conscious choice to go for it.

I think one of my biggest drawbacks in the recent past has been my age.  Somewhere in the back of my mind, a voice would whisper to me that I was a bit long in the tooth to be trying to look like I was 18 again.  Two things dawned on me - thanks to my new-found confidence and joy.

First, I'm not trying to be 18 again.  I don't want the body of a model and I don't care to turn heads and get wolf whistles as I walk down the street.  I'm married to the love of my life and he pretty much worships the ground I walk on (finally - a story for another day).

Second, I'm not my age.  By that, I mean my age doesn't define me.  I've always said that I never want to get old - I just want to live a long time.  Well, it's in MY power to make that happen - the 'getting old' part anyway.  God will decide when it's my time to stop getting older.  But I can and I will make every effort to keep myself healthy so that I CAN never get old.  I'm absolutely not ready to wrap a shawl around me and sit in a rocking chair for the rest of my life.

I've talked about losing weight many times - and I've even made half-hearted attempts to do so - but I never followed through.  This time, it feels different.  Also, in the past, I've kept my attempts to myself in case I failed.  Isn't that sort of like giving yourself permission to fail?  This time I've gone public.  I've told people, I've posted about it on facebook and now I'm blogging about it.  I do not want to fail and I will make it as difficult for myself as I can to ensure that doesn't happen.

I don't want this blog to turn into my personal weight-loss journal but I probably will blog about my progress from time to time.  Be patient with me.  I'm excited. :D

More About Police Week

"It is not how these officers died that made them heroes, it is how they lived."

~Vivian Eney Cross~

I'm sorry - I know I wrote about this yesterday but it's still very much on my mind and there are some things I need to say - mostly for myself so please be patient with me.

Pattie, a Cook County, IL Deputy and my "partner-in-crime", lost her partner in the line of duty in November, 1992.  His name was added to the National Police Officer's Memorial in Washington in 1994 and Pattie has not missed a year at Police Week since.

That first year, she noticed that many of the fallen officers had no one there to remember them so the following year, she began leaving a long-stemmed red rose for some of those officers.  I believe she said it was only about a dozen roses that first year.  Pattie would do a rubbing of the officer's engraved name, write a short sentiment beneath the rubbed name and then leave it on the panel with the rose.

In 2000, I made my first visit to National Police Week where Pattie and I met in person for the first time (we met on the Internet a couple of years earlier and had become good on-line friends).  It's hard to explain the feelings that went through me as I sat through not one but two very emotional ceremonies.  The night before, it had rained so the annual Candlelight Vigil was postponed until the next night - right after the annual Irish ceremony.  Either of those ceremonies is quite poignant alone but to receive a double whammy?  Shell shock - that's what I experienced and what I've learned every other 'first-timer' experiences.

There were some other emotional situations that happened immediately after Police Week that year that I won't go into here.  Maybe that's why it touched me so much when Pattie asked me to help her with the roses the next year.  I couldn't say 'yes' fast enough!

The following year, we were up to two dozen roses.  We noticed that some officers had printed placards with their photos on them.  I told Pattie that I could make something like that for our officers.  She thought it was a great idea so the following year, we went with our officers printed on plain paper.  We were SO proud of what we'd done - until it rained and washed all the ink off the memorials we had so lovingly placed on the panels.  That year, we added laminating to our to-do list.

Then we realized the roses were withering after a day or so in the hot sun.  Next came silk roses - blue, we decided, in honor of the Thin Blue Line.  They looked wonderful with our newly laminated memorials.  By now, we were up to almost a hundred.

Pattie had been in touch with a police officer from Strathclyde, Scotland who was in the early stages of starting a group to support survivors of fallen officers in the UK.  His group was modeled after our own Concerns Of Police Survivors (COPS) and was even named UK COPS.  That year, he brought a contingent of Bobbies from the UK and, again, Pattie had a brilliant idea.  We should do something for the Brits to show our support for them.  Our "international lion" was created.  I think there were about three memorials that year. When the Bobbies happened to pass by and we just happened to be standing there, they all immediately kneeled and removed their helmets.  Pattie and I instinctively reached for each other and watched in awe at the tribute these wonderful men were paying to their fallen comrades. The first International Tribute and this year's:

The International Lion became part of our annual tribute and has grown to over 50 memorials that include officers from Australia, Belgium, Canada, Ireland and the UK.  One year, it included an officer from the Hong Kong police.

After the terror attacks of September 11, 2001, Pattie (the catalyst for ALL of this!) again had a wonderful idea.  We left a memorial for Sirius, the only K9 killed in those attacks.  The following summer, my hometown lost a K9 in the line of duty so our K9 tribute began.  The first year, we had a cheap poster board with about 10-15 names and photos of our four-legged heroes.  Pattie made a bouquet of dog bones and put them in a mason jar beside the poster.  It was simple but noticed.

The following year, we used a tri-fold poster board and a wreath made of dog bones.  We had learned our lesson about the rain, so we laminated the front.  You know what happened next - right?  It rained and soaked our board from the back.  The board was bent and torn but, by golly, our photos were in tact!  We now laminate all the way around.  We've also grown to TWO boards that are looked for and expected to be there each year.  This year, someone was standing there waiting for us when we put them up and told us she was upset because it wasn't there the day before and thought we weren't going to do it this year.  Well, the day before, we were busy putting out 308 memorials for the US and 57 for the International Lion.  We had to keep stopping because of rain but we got it all done.  This is our first K9 Tribute and the one for this year:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This year, we began our own prayer ceremony in which we remember the fallen and honor the survivors.  The panels have become too crowded to add the roses so we give them to the survivors with the suggestion that they keep them as a remembrance to their hero.

You might ask why Pattie and I do this year after year and why it means so much to us.  Pattie lost her partner.  It could have been her at any time.  I look at the widows and know that could have been me at any time.  We empathize and sympathize with those who grieve.  We are so grateful that we can do this each year and so proud that we might offer some little comfort to those who need it.  What we do is nothing in comparison to what they lost.  God willing, we will be doing this for years to come.  Our only prayer is that someone will pick up the gauntlet after we're gone.  May these heroes and their survivors never be forgotten.  Amen.

Honoring Our Fallen

Heroes are made by the paths they choose, not the powers they are graced with.
~Brodi Ashton, Everneath~

 

I just spent a week in Washington DC honoring our fallen law enforcement officers during National Police Week. Our military, our firefighters and our police officers all put on a uniform each day not knowing if this will be the day they take their last breath.  Every hero deserves to be honored. Last week, it was the law enforcement community's turn to honor their fallen.  I am so very proud to be part of that wonderful community.

It seems that every year, my "partner-in-crime" and I meet someone who touches our hearts in such a way that they become our own.  This year was no different.  We met an elderly couple who were there to honor their only daughter, a Columbia MO police officer, who was gunned down during a traffic stop.  Did you notice that I didn't say "routine traffic stop"?  There is nothing "routine" about ANY call to which an officer responds.  We spoke to this beautiful couple for a short time listening to the stories they had to tell about their daughter - the funny ones and the sad ones.  We could hear the sorrow in their voices and see the pain in their eyes.  We exchanged many hugs and promised them that we would never forget their daughter - and we won't.  She will be on our "list" next year and every year.

We were also fortunate to have met a young officer from Millville, NJ who was there to honor his friend and comrade who was killed when his police cruiser was hit by a driver fleeing from the police.  That young officer will forever be a part of  us and his friend will also always be on our "list".

A father was there to honor his son, a Sandusky, OH officer, who was shot and killed by a suspect he had stopped and was attempting to interview.  The Sandusky Police Department honored this officer by naming their next K9 after him.  Like his namesake, the K9 also was killed in the line of duty.  Another one for our "list".

In addition to our American survivors, we were blessed with survivors from the UK, Ireland, Australia and Canada.  They all had fallen officers on our "list".  The Thin Blue Line stretches across the globe and knows no boundaries.

It takes a special kind of person to be willing to do a job in which his or her life is on the line on a daily basis.  They go about their duty knowing that the person who just spit on them and called them vile names might be the one for whom they sacrifice their lives.  They go into places and situations that the rest of us would not. Their job is to protect us - not themselves.  They do this willingly, lovingly and without regard for their own lives. These are the people I call "hero".

The Bible tells us that "Blessed are the peacekeepers for they shall be called Children of God".  It also tells us "Blessed are those who grieve for they shall be comforted".  God bless our officers and God bless those who love them.

Bordering on the Ridiculous

Being Politically Correct means always having to say you're sorry.
~Charles Osgood~

Oh Lord, isn't that quote the absolute truth? Isn't it getting a little tiresome trying to remember what terms or labels (which I hate, by the way) we can use without offending someone? Even more than that, is it even possible to never offend somebody? How does one keep up with all the terms that are considered 'politically INcorrect'?

One of the most offensive politically correct terms I've heard recently is "undocumented citizen".  This is how we are now supposed to refer to those people who have entered our country illegally.  I call BULL DINKY on that.  I believe that one should call a spade a spade - but, again, that's a politically incorrect term as well.  Besides, in this particular case, being 'pc' disrespects our laws that non-citizens enter our county legally by following certain procedures.  If we're going to ignore that, then why do we need to keep the laws in effect or protect our borders?

Now don't get me wrong - there are plenty of terms that ARE offensive and should not be used.  Personally, I try very hard to never offend anyone but it's not always possible.  I remember going shopping years ago and was approached by a young lady asking for donations for her church.  I asked her what church she belonged to and she answered that she belonged to the Unification Church.  I said "you mean, like the Moonies?"  Oh boy did I get a lecture!  I didn't know it was an offensive term - and, frankly didn't really care at the time.

While the "n" word is derogatory - no question! - it's politically incorrect to use the term 'black".  Personally, I think it's a bit presumptuous to assume that all people of that ethnicity originated in Africa.  But then, isn't that exactly what political correctness is - a presumption?  We presume or assume that everyone in a particular group feels the same way about the same thing.  Sometimes, all it takes is one voice to change a term from acceptable to not acceptable - even if that one voice is the only one out of thousands.

Isn't the most important thing how we see ourselves and not what someone else calls us? My wonderful mother-in-law was the daughter of Italian immigrants.  She didn't care that some people called her a 'dago'.  She cared that she was treated fairly and respected - and, believe me - she was.

My whole point is that we should be as non-offensive as we can be without being paranoid.  We need to use common sense and good judgment.  Should we really be more concerned with terminology than with how we are treated?  I would rather be called munchkin by someone who respects me as a person than to be called short by someone who doesn't.  By the way - I may be a short person, but my family and friends make me feel ten feet tall.  Isn't that just the best!

Why don't people get it?

The Roots of Violence: Wealth without work, Pleasure without conscience, Knowledge without character, Commerce without morality, Science without humanity, Worship without sacrifice, Politics without principles.
~Mahatma Gandhi ~

I'm so sick to death of all this talk about gun violence and the need for gun control.  I don't understand why so many people just don't get it.  Just because someone owns a gun does NOT mean they are going to use it to kill someone any more than someone eating bacon will have a heart attack and die.  Stupid comparison?  Yeah, well, it's a stupid subject.  Why don't people understand that the problem is not HOW people kill people but the fact that they DO kill people and seemingly, have no conscience about it.  I'm not even going to address the fact that criminals will have guns no matter what laws are in effect.

Have you noticed that when the anti-gun faction began spouting their reasons for supporting gun control, they almost always talk about mass shootings?  Why do they continually ignore the other means by which mass killings occurred?  Bombs and fires have been used time and again.  Now we have a new weapon of mass violence - pressure cookers.  This should be an example to those who oppose guns that if someone wants to kill, they'll find a way to do it.  After the devastation of 9/11, we had to deal with letters contaminated with anthrax being sent to our elected officials in Washington.

There is no denying that there are people in this world who will always use guns to kill other people.  I get it - guns are convenient but so are knives and matches.  Again, why are we more concerned with the how rather than the why?  At what point are we, as a society, going to roll up our sleeves and work on the real problem?

Dr John Johnson, expert on violence in America and professor at the University of Arizona, said "Guns, in and of themselves, cannot be considered a contributing factor regarding violence within the United States."  In his lecture about violence, he said that serial killers are the most feared killers in America.  He also stated that the majority of them do not use guns.  I don't have anything to document that but it seems to me I can't recall many serial killers who used guns.

It would seem to me that gun control advocates are only interested in preventing mass shootings even though they talk about saving just one life.  My guess about that is that the 'one life' they talk about saving are the times someone in a family goes bonkers and kills family members.  Yeah, that happens but, again, it's also happened with knives.  I remember reading something awhile back about a man who wanted to kill himself but didn't want his family burdened with his suicide so he killed them as well.  He used carbon monoxide poisoning to do the deed.

When are the people of this country going to wake up and address the real problem - man's inhumanity against man?  If we can't understand that that's the real problem then there's no reason to expect that things will ever get better.

I'm Guilty

The worst guilt is to accept an unearned guilt.
~Ayn Rand~

I hate guilt.  No, let me correct that - I hate feeling guilty - and Lord knows I feel guilty all the time.  I've learned, though, that feeling guilty isn't the same as actually being guilty.  Sometimes, I think that maybe I confuse feeling guilty with feeling ashamed.

My latest bout with guilt (shame?) was at Arlington National Cemetery earlier this week when loved ones gathered to offer a loving and final farwell to my brother.  I wasn't paying attention to what was going on because I was too focused to what I thought was necessary.  I wanted my sister-in-law to have something before the service began (which I later discovered wasn't necessary) and leaned forward to ask her daughter to "give this to your mom".  She said something I didn't quite understand and I thought she was just blowing me off so I leaned toward my sister-in-law and tried to give her what I had typed up for her.  She leaned back and whispered 'not now' - which I figured out was what my neice had said.  When I looked up (and beyond my own nose) I realized that my brother's casket was being removed from the hearse and his family (well, all but me, apparently) were being humble and honoring him as he was carried to his final resting place.  I immediately felt guilty because I know better - and I haven't been able to get it out of my mind since.

That same day, after the ceremony/service, I thanked a friend for coming and was told 'anything for you'.  My brain was in overdrive trying to think of a witty comeback but all my mouth could spit out was 'buy me lunch?'  That was just plain embarrassing and had he been able to join us, there's no doubt I'd have felt guilty if he offered to pay.  Open mouth, insert foot is the story of my life.

I feel guilty if I take the last cup of coffee or piece of pie; I feel guilty if I spend money on me instead of someone else; I feel guilty if I do anything that might possibly cause someone else to do without something or have to do something that I've not done.  Some of that, I think, could just be human nature because I know a lot of people who feel the same way.

One thing I do know for sure is that those negative feelings descend upon us like a buzzard on roadkill.  The positive feelings require a bit of effort - at least until we get used to them.  I sure wish it could be the other way around.

Life is NOT Fair and Other Things That Piss Me Off

Constantly exposing yourself to popular culture and the mass media will ultimately shape your reality tunnel in ways that are not necessarily conducive to achieving your Soul Purpose and Life Calling. Modern society has generally ‘lost the plot’. Slavishly following its false gods and idols makes no sense in a spiritually aware life.
~Anthon St. Maarten~

Somebody hurt my child the other day and I am NOT a happy camper about it.  Yes, I know that my "child" is a grown man, a husband and father - as is my other 'child'.  Nevertheless, I'm a mama bear and those two grown men are - and will always be - my babies.  When you hurt one of them, you hurt me.  I have never considered myself a vengeful person but I find myself looking forward to Karma for the sub-human being who did this to my son.

My husband and I are extremely proud of the men our sons have become.  We take no credit for how well adjusted and honest they turned out.  Yes, we gave them guidelines and tried to teach them right from wrong but they are the ones who ultimately decided to be the men they are.  THEY are the ones who overlooked the mistakes we made and chose the right path anyway.

Now, don't get me wrong - I don't approve of every single thing they do but they are mine and I love them with a fierceness that I think may make my heart explode one day.  Their dad and I are so proud to be their parents and, by their choice, their friends.  We are indeed blessed parents.

Just as they can fill my heart with love, they can put me in my place at times as well.  Just the other day, my youngest son was telling me that he's planning to get another tattoo.  Now, he knows that I don't like tats and would prefer no one get them.  I'm pretty sure that comes from being a little girl and hearing my grandfather extol his many regrets about having gotten tattoos and when he died, would someone please make sure they were covered.

When my son said he wanted to get a 'sleeve', I asked him why in the world he would do that.  He said it was because he thought they were "cool".  I then said something I will regret to my dying day.  I told him there might be occasions when I would ask him to cover it because there might be places where it was inappropriate or maybe people I'd rather not see it.  He said to me "Mom, do you realize that not only are you being judgemental but you're also telling me you'd be ashamed of me?"  His words cut like a knife and I was humbled.  I have always been proud of myself for not judging people but, seemingly, I was giving myself entirely too much credit.  I immediately apologized and told him that he was absolutely right.  I will never again mention my dislike of tattoos and I will try to never judge anyone who has them.

Saturday night, my husband and I were at the home of some friends for a small dinner party when the conversation turned to children.  I made the comment that I thought what was wrong with people today started with the drug-crazed hippies of the 60's and into the 70's.  They didn't teach their children to respect rules, rather they taught them to express themselves freely without regard for rules.  Oh, their concept, I believe was a good one - peace, harmony and living and letting live - but without some structure, it didn't work,  Authority was something to fight against, patriotism was a joke and God was dead..  The music echoed the beliefs and opinions of the times and became the mantra for a growing generation.

The hippies talked a good talk but they didn't practice what they preached.  As long as you believed as they did, all was well.  If you subscribed to "old-fashioned" ideals then you were part of the problem.  They preached tolerance and demanded acceptance for their lifestyles and opinions but did NOT offer the same in return - much like the liberals of today.

The children of those hippies grew up and had children of their own.  Not having known structure, they couldn't teach it.  Their idea was to fill their children with a sense of entitlement - not just of material things but also for their precious little feelings.  Is it any wonder that those children grew up to be the "me generation" of the 80's?  The hippies apparently didn't know (or didn't care) that giving a child structure, rules to live by and consequences for actions was and still is the best way to raise a child with a strong sense of self.  Clearly, they did not teach compassion for another person unless, of course, the person was part of their inner circle.

Then the "Me Generation" began to have children and guess what happened?  They became parents to children they didn't know how to raise.  So they didn't raise them.  A generation of 'latch-key' children was born and television became everyone's babysitter. Do you see how things get progressively worse from generation to generation?

And please don't get me started about the absence of God in family life anymore.... too late!  When Madalyn Murray O'Hair decided that she was offended when religious values were taught in schools, everyone should be offended.  Seriously???  We used to do three things in school every morning - we said the Pledge of Allegiance, we sang patriotic songs and we recited the Lord's Prayer.  I don't recall anyone being offended - not even, I suspect - Madalyn's children.  I'm sure she's paying for her sins now but, of course, I believe in God.

One last thing: I have been watching "The Bible" on the History channel every week and even it is pissing me off right now.  Don't get me wrong - I'm thoroughly enjoying the series but I think it's misnamed.  It should be called "Bible Stories" because that's what it is.  I was looking forward to the stories of Noah, Job, Malachi, Ruth and Naomi, Jacob and Esau, the Prodigal Son and others but they have all been omitted.  Granted, it began with Noah but his story was not told.  I'm still going to watch, though.  We're in the New Testament now and I'm looking forward to how they portray Revelations.

Okay, I think I've gotten it all out of my system now.  If not, I'm sure you'll all know it when I do my next blog.

Witnessing Miracles

Within the covers of the Bible are the answers for all the problems men face.
~Ronald Reagan~

Last night, I watched the first of 10 installments of The Bible on the History channel.  I have to say, I was totally engrossed.  I learned some things - as I expected - but I also had a realization about what it must have been like to have lived in Biblical times.

That realization struck me as Moses was leading the Israelites out of Egypt and had to cross the Red Sea.  Can you just imagine what it must have been like to  have stood there and watched as the sea opened a path for the Israelites to cross?  We just don't hear about miracles of that calibre in today's world - though I do believe miracles happen every day.

And there's the 'Voice of God' many of the people in the Old Testament heard.  How many of us today hear the voice of God? Oh, I believe He talks to us but not in the same way He spoke to Abraham, Moses, Noah and many others.  I think miracles today, though no less miraculous, are more subtle.

Times were hard in Biblical times but I think I would have endured a little of that to have been witness to one or two of the kinds of miracles God performed.  It would seem to me that witnessing some of those miracles would serve to cement one's faith as well as remove any doubt about the existence of God.  Perhaps some of our scientists would have been well served to have lived in those times.  Just sayin'...

Last night's episode ended with Joshua at Jericho.  Though I know what happens, I'm anxious to see how it's portrayed in the series.  For those of you who always said you didn't read the book because you were waiting for the movie - now's your chance.  I highly recommend it.

Saying Goodbye to a Brother

After a girl is grown, her little brothers - now her protectors  - seem like big brothers.
~Terri Guillemets~

I was blessed with four wonderful brothers.  Yesterday I said goodbye to one of them.  I've lost grandparents, parents and uncles but never a sibling.  To have lost any of my brothers would be devastating but this one was particularly painful - at least, I think it was. You see, I didn't just lose a brother. I also lost the opportunity to get to know him better, to make memories, to make discoveries about his life and to develop an even deeper love for him.  I don't have many memories from which I can seek comfort - no good times to laugh about, no sibling rivalry stories to recount, no times when we shared tears together.

My brother didn't have a long life but in the last few days, I learned that he had a rich, full life. He was blessed with a beautiful wife and three equally beautiful daughters who all loved him with all of their hearts.  He returned that love to them tenfold.  All three of his daughters were 'Daddy's Girls' but his precious wife was clearly the love of his life - as  he was hers.

A couple of days ago, my surviving brothers and I were at our sister-in-law's home where we were helping with photo boards to display at the public viewing.  I was amazed at how much life this wonderful man lived in such a short time.  I learned that he loved 'free falling' when I saw a photo of him after he jumped from a plane but before he opened his parachute.  He seemed to be floating among the clouds and I found that a comforting thought as we said our goodbyes.  My brother is up there above the clouds where he seemed to love to be.

While my other brothers and I were getting ready for the service yesterday, we were all watching the same morning show (coincidence? I think not!) on which a man who had been revived 47 minutes after he died recounted his experience.  When he was asked what it was like, the man said that he felt himself falling and then he felt himself "shoot out of his body like a rocket".  Until that point, the man was in a lot of pain but he said as soon as he was propelled from his body, he was no longer in pain and had an amazing sense of peace around him.  Again, I was comforted thinking of my brother as whole again with no pain in his body.

I will never know why we could not have known this brother until so late in our lives, why our father had to leave all of us and why we couldn't have had more time with our newest brother.  I do know, though, that God saw fit to give us some time together and in doing so, He enriched our lives in a way that will impact me forever.

For my sister-in-law and nieces, I would ask God to help them in this time of grief, to ease their heartache, to give them comfort as they learn to remember the good times without tears and to let them know that we are all here for them in whatever way they may need us.

As for our brother, he was in our lives for a very short time but he will be in our hearts forever. I love you, Bubby.  Rest in peace.

On Presidents and Their Day

The world as we have created it is a process of our thinking. It cannot be changed without changing our thinking.
~Albert Einstein~

What an appropriate day for my offense to rear its ugly head.  It's no secret that I am NOT a supporter of President Obama but I'm really offended by some of the lengths some people and groups go in order to belittle him and his policies.

Some of the so-called "jokes" about him and his presidency that are out there are funny but others, in my opinion, cross the line.  Today, I saw what was supposed to be a funny cartoon.  It showed Obama in front of a crematorium oven saying "Trust me, it's really an MRI machine".  I found nothing funny about that. The same applies to the one I saw that had him smiling, a bunch of long screws surrounding him with a caption that read "Free Obamacare Suppositories".

Maybe it's because it's President's Day and I have a deep respect for the office that I found those 'jokes' especially offensive.  Don't get me wrong - I didn't vote for Obama either time he ran nor do I support his policies.  Personally, I can't stand the man.  I think he's a liar and a hypocrite who's only out for himself and his family.

The office of President of the United States deserves our respect even if the person who holds that title does not.  I believe it's true that Obama has done nothing to bring respect to the office he holds and he probably never will.  In fact, I believe he has done  more to disrespect the office than any amount of offensive jokes I've seen.  In my opinion, it will take us years to undo the damage he has done - not just in his policies but also in how the rest of world sees us.

There is a world of difference in how the office of POTUS began with George Washington and what it has become with Barack Obama.  It's hardly recognizable as the same office.  I understand the country has become much bigger and the issues more complicated but common decency and a sense of pride, until this presidency, has always been part of the office.

There have been many scandals involving our presidents through the years.  Who can forget Watergate or the "I never had sexual relations with that woman" debacle?  Both of those examples brought some disgrace to the men but very little disrespect to the office.  I don't believe that's true with our current president.

As much I would love to, I can't place all the blame for the current level of disrespect shown to the office of President on Obama.  Those who create and perpetuate such 'jokes' as I mentioned do nothing to add respect to the office.  In fact, they are part of the problem.

It's true what they say. If you're not part of the solution, then you're part of the problem.  The group that posted those jokes on facebook has been deleted from my facebook account.  I will no longer participate in "Obama bashing" nor will I condone it.  That's not to say that I won't offer my opinion or share whatever I feel needs to be shared.  I just won't be perpetuating offensive jokes.

On Brothers and Sisters

There's no other love like the love for a brother.  There's no other love like the love from a brother.
~Terri Guillemets~

Two years ago today, I got an email that said "I think your dad is also my husband's dad".  It was the beginning of something wonderful in my life and the last (maybe) of surprises from my father.

As I've said before, my father left our family when I was two years old.  I had a one-year old brother and a new born baby brother.  About five years later, my mother was remarried and gave me another brother.  Before my baby brother was a year old, his father was out of the picture and we had a new step-dad.  That's how I grew up - the oldest of four children with a step-father who had grown up a victim of child abuse.

All my life, I wanted to know who my "real" father was.  Oh, I always knew his name (my second brother was a Jr) but I didn't know the man.  I didn't know what he looked like or what kind of person he was.  My mother told me he had died after being hit by a train.  I never knew (still don't) if she lied or if she had heard that somewhere and believed it.

Fast forward to the year I was about to turn 33 - just a couple weeks before my birthday, actually.  I got a phone call from my dad!  I was ecstatic!  It was my life's dream come true.  He told me that he'd thought about me and my "two" brothers through the years and that he loved me.  I never thought I'd hear anything so wonderful in my life.

Did I have any questions for him, he wanted to know.  I surprised myself when my only question was "do I have any brothers and sisters I don't know about?"  I didn't ask why he left or why he got in touch after all these years.  I wanted more siblings!  Yes, he told me.  He had another son and two daughters.  SISTERS!  YES!  Another lifelong dream come true!

My dad eventually started visiting us about one weekend a month for the next few years.  I learned that he wasn't the best person in the world but he was blatantly honest.  He admitted to anything he may have done wrong and never once blamed anything on anyone else.

The last time I spoke to my dad, he called me to tell me he had lung cancer and would I let my brothers know.  When I found out that he was in the hospital in intensive care a few months later, my brothers and I decided that we wanted to visit him.  He was in Michigan where his 'other' son lived so I got his number and called.  I spoke with my sister-in-law, explained who I was and asked if they would mind if we came to visit our dad before he died.  She knew about us and said of course we'd be welcome.

I called her a couple of days later to tell her our travel plans and she informed me that our dad had passed away the day before.  So my two oldest brothers and I packed ourselves in my little car and we headed to Michigan for our dad's funeral.  We knew we'd meet our new brother and sisters and were happy about that.  Turns out we were SO VERY WRONG.

Our new brother was okay at best, distant with us.  He was probably just as confused as we were.  The sisters, however, were quite hostile and wanted nothing to do with us.  We took the hint.  I went from having 3 brothers to having 4 brothers and 2 sisters and back to just having 3 brothers.  I honestly tried to forge a relationship with the "other 3" as we called them but they were having none of it.

Fast forward again to two years ago and that wonderful email. Between the first three and the other three, there was one more.  This time, our new brother was interested in being just that - our brother.  And how blessed we are that he came into our lives!  He's a wonderful man with an equally wonderful wife and three of the most beautiful daughters God ever put on this earth.  Now I was the oldest of five with four awesome brothers.  God is good!

When I met my new brother for the first time - about a month after the first email - I learned that love at first sight is real.  I can't explain it but I felt an instant connection to this man who until now was a total stranger.  He was my brother in every sense of the word and I loved him as much as I did - do - love my other 3 brothers.  The only difference was that we had no shared memories.

We'll never have childhood memories but we've been together a handful of times so we're making memories now.  We don't have a lot of time, unfortunately.  My brother is not well and is no longer able to travel.  For now, I still have him in my life and I will cherish that as long as I can.

Thank you, Sister-in-law, for sending that first email and for making us a part of our brother's life.  I appreciate you so much.

And, Bubby - happy birthday.  I love you.

Growing Up Well-Adjusted Takes Work!

It's not what happens to you, but how you react to it that matters.
~Epictetus~

Yesterday, my cousin and I were out "digging up dead people" (AKA: genealogy research) when we started talking about our common paternal line.  She and I are only ten days apart in age and resemble each other physically as well as sharing some common ideas, opinions and pet peeves.

My cousin's parents have been married for 60-something years and raised their two daughters together.  My parents were married for 9 years, but only lived together for about 4 of those years.  My father left when I was 2 and I grew up never knowing anything about him or his family.  My cousin and I actually "met" on a genealogy message board a few years ago and formed an instant connection.

The natural progression of such a conversation, obviously, was to talk about our childhoods and the differences in how we were raised.  I found it a little more than interesting that we should have such diverse childhoods yet be so much alike in our adulthoods.

My cousin surprised me twice by what she had to say about me - first that I was pretty well-adjusted for the childhood I lived through and that I tended to 'command a presence' when I entered a room.  I'm not quite sure what that second comment means and, frankly, I was more complimented by her first statement.  There are two things I've learned in the course of my life that, I believe, has fared well for me.

First, the past cannot be changed. Our reactions to those experiences are what makes us the person we become.  We have to acknowledge the good and bad in our lives, accept that we are the sum of those experiences and ultimately choose which experiences will guide us through our lives.  In other words, there comes a time when we have to quit blaming our childhoods and start taking responsibility for our adulthoods.  Accepting that our childhoods - good or bad - was not a personal choice and then believing that we are worthy to be loved no matter what we were taught when we were young is a huge step in becoming well-adjusted.

Second, we need to understand that those who may have wronged us in our childhoods, didn't always do so because they were inherently bad people.  Everyone knows that abuse begets abuse.  Breaking that chain is hard work.  It begins with the knowledge that it's wrong and a decision to not perpetuate the bad in our lives.  When we finally understand - TRULY understand - why the grownups in our lives do certain things, then we can begin to forgive them.  We don't accept that it's right but we forgive the behavior because forgiving is the first step to healing.

Knowing that I was worthy to be loved, learning that I am a good person and, finally to love myself was a huge breakthrough for me.  It has made it easier for me to love others and to raise my own children with the sense that they, too, are good people who are worthy to be loved.

Now, I just need to work on that "command a presence" thing...

Is it possible to believe in nothing?

If God did not exist, it would be necessary to invent him.
~Voltaire~

Often I find myself sitting and pondering about those who claim to be atheist and have not a shadow of doubt that there is no God.  I don't understand the concept.  Agnostics I kinda sorta get.  They say there's no proof whether or not there is a God.  Even with them, I still don't get the lack of choosing one side or the other in which to believe.

Now, don't get me wrong - I totally support everyone's right to believe (or not believe) as he or she chooses.  I just don't understand the idea of having no doubt that something doesn't exist.  I guess I just ponder the "what-ifs" too much.  Faith is absolutely important to me so to not have any is incomprehensible to me.  Besides, I was always taught that you can't prove a negative.

It just boggles my mind, though, that when we look around all that God has created (and, yes, I firmly and unequivocally believe HE created everything) that some choose to believe everything was a random accident that resulted in a 'big bang' that lead to the creation of everything and the intricate ways in which everything works together.  Seriously?  What are the odds of that happening?

Things work too well together to be random.   Human beings breathe in oxygen and exhale carbon dioxide.  Trees and plants take in carbon dioxide and give off oxygen.  That's random?  The sun warms us during the day and the moon lights our nights. That's random?  Every species has a male and female gender and the two genders physically fit together and creates life in a way that can't possibly be random.

Consider the complexity of the human being.  No two people share the same fingerprints or iris imprint.  Each person has his or  her own unique DNA that identifies each of us even in a group of billions of people.  How is it possible that each and every fingerprint, iris and DNA pattern is identifiably different from all the others?  This is random?  It's said that of all the snowflakes that have ever fallen or will ever fall, no two are alike.  How could that possibly be a result of randomness?

I know that science looks for empirical evidence to substantiate a claim about something that has no physical or historical proof.  Because scientists can't empirically prove God exists, they choose, rather, to believe in the astronomically impossibility that all life was created by a random accident from nothingness.   Why is that easier to believe than that God exists and created everything?  Believing in God requires faith but, then, doesn't believing in nothing also require a certain amount of faith?

Believing in that which we can't see or touch is faith.  If one doesn't have faith, how can one have hope?  How can one believe in love?  You can't feel what someone else is feeling so when they tell you they love you, you have to choose whether to believe or not believe them.  You can base your belief (faith) on how they act but you can't KNOW.

Believing is faith and I choose to have faith that all that I know and all that I am was created by God. 

Whose Rights Trump Whose?

You are a human being. You have rights inherent in that reality. You have dignity and worth that exists prior to law.
~Lyn Beth Neylon~

I don't believe in women's rights, gay rights, minority rights or any other group rights.  I believe in HUMAN rights.  Whatever right one human being has, then every other human being has the same right.  I also believe, however, that the rights of one individual end when they interfere with the rights of another.

In the history of our country, we have used skin color as a reason to enslave other human beings.  While I find that absolutely abhorrent, I also recognize that it's part of our history and can't be changed - nor should it be forgotten.  But neither should it be a reason to continue hatred and discrimination.

In the history of our country, women were considered property - daughters were property of their fathers and wives were property of their husbands.  Did you know that in the first two hundred years our country existed, if a man died and left children under the age of 21, their mother could not be their guardian?  A child under the age of 21 was classified as an infant and had to have a male guardian.  Should we as women hate all men because of the way it used to be?

In the history of our country, religious beliefs were a reason to separate people and to discriminate against them.  When the Pilgrims and Puritans (protestants) came to the New World, they did so for freedom of religion.  They weren't so accommodating to other religions, however. Catholics were banned from settling in the Colonies.  When our government was first formed, only Christians could hold public office.

In the history of our country, no group was ever more discriminated against than the American Indian. We came into HIS land, took it from him and then treated him worse than we treated our slaves.

So what prompted this blog?  A conversation about abortion was the catalyst.  I have never made a secret of the fact that I'm pro-life and believe abortions should be banned except in certain cases.  My belief is that it's morally wrong to take a human life - even if that life hasn't seen the light of day yet.  To choose to end the life of an unborn child because he's not wanted, because she's not a he or because he may have Down's Syndrome or some other genetic defect is vile and despicable.

Not only does abortion take away the right of the child to live, it also denies the father his rights.  Yes, I know - it's a woman's body and her right to do with as she pleases... blah blah blah...  Suppose we took that attitude with everything that affects a person's body?   Why do we prosecute someone who has AIDS if he or she chooses to have unprotected sex and spreads the virus?  Doesn't the infected person have the right to treat his or her body as he or she chooses?  Why is being the victim of that person any worse than a baby being the victim of abortion?

I know that one of the arguments in favor of abortion is that of when the fetus is actually a living being.  Some people say it's when they're born, others say it's the moment of conception and still others say it's when the life is viable outside the womb. Fact is, no one knows for sure exactly when life begins.  We all have opinions but it's like defining outer space - no one really knows.  It may have a legal definition but that doesn't make it fact.  Personally, I believe life begins when the body contains a soul.  Again, no one but God knows when that is.

And one final thought, if a pregnant women is murdered, why is the murderer charged with two counts of murder even in the earlist stages of the pregnancy if the fertilized egg growing inside of her isn't a human life?  Just asking...

We don't need a village

Parents often talk about the younger generation as if they didn't have anything to do with it.
~Haim Ginott~

Is it just me or does anyone else think that society has entirely too much say in how our children are raised today?  Once when a little boy made a rude and somewhat nasty comment to his mother, I asked her "why do you let him get away with that?"  Her answer left me a bit flabbergasted. "What can I do? All the kids talk like that."  I did remind her that she was not responsible for "all" kids - only hers.  The glare I received was all I needed to know it was time to butt out.

Children need to be taught respect - respect for others and respect for themselves. Sometimes, respecting your parents includes a healthy dose of fear.  Don't get me wrong - I don't think any child should be afraid of his or her parents but I think they SHOULD be afraid of the consequences when they misbehave or act out.

When I was little, people minded their own business when it came to parents disciplining children. Isn't that how it should be?  My neighbors and friends aren't responsible for how my children turn out so why should they have a say in how they're raised?  Truth is, they shouldn't.

Everyone has their own opinions and ideas on how best to raise a child.  Truthfully, I'm not positive there's any one best way.  I do know, though, that it does NOT take a village to raise a child.  You've heard the saying that too many cooks spoil the broth?  Well, I'd say that applies to raising children too.  It's hard enough for two people to agree on how to raise a child.  Can you imagine how confusing it must be to have a whole society trying to raise that child?

I absolutely believe in spanking as a form of discipline though I don't believe it applies in every case.  I also know there's a lot of controversy concerning spanking.  Spanking a child and beating a child are two entirely different things.  What I don't understand is why some people see spanking in any form as abuse.  I see ANY punishment that's excessive as abusive.  If you put a child in 'time out' in the morning and make them stay there until bedtime with only mealtimes for reprieves is excessive and abusive in my opinion.

Our teachers and school guidance counselors also have too much influence in how we raise our children.  Children are told in school that if a parent 'hits' them, they can call the cops.  I absolutely get it that those teachers and guidance counselors are the first line in protecting our children from abusive parents but they go too far too often.  Our children need and deserve to be protected from abuse but I think they also need to be protected from society - especially when they're young.

I'm so glad I'm not raising children in today's society.

Where Are Our Priorities?

“If someone has a gun and is trying to kill you, it would be reasonable to shoot back with your own gun.”
~Dalai Lama XIV~

I'm as sick as anyone of all the pro and con arguments about gun control.  Don't get me wrong - I've indulged in my fair share of those comments and arguments and probably will continue to do so but I'm still sick of hearing about it.  It's like a traffic accident that you can't stop yourself from rubbernecking to see.

What I don't get is why tragedies such as mass shootings are always turned into debates on gun control.  Seriously, why is the problem that American citizens want to own guns without any hassle rather than the fact that a small few in our society have such little regard for human life?  Why is there such an uproar over guns when the focus should be on the crime and not the method?  There is something inherently wrong when the why takes a backseat to the how.

Do we really think that someone bent on killing as many people as they can will stop just because we remove one method from them?  Moreover, does anyone really believe that an individual who's determined to kill won't because the method is illegal?

When Jim Jones committed mass murders in Guyana, he did it with poison.  Timothy McVeigh did it with a truck containing a bomb.  Of course we all remember the Taliban doing it with airplanes.  There are other less well known mass murders as well.  Eighty-two victims died in a fire that was deliberately set in a social club in New York in March of 1990.

Pardon me if I'm wrong, but isn't MURDER a bigger crime than owning a gun ever will be?  Can't you just see a mass murderer-to-be arguing with himself? The conversation would probably go something like this:  "I gotta kill all these people but how? I can't use a gun because they're illegal.  Maybe I should set a fire?  No, they might survive that.  A bomb would work but that's a lot of work. Man, I wish guns weren't illegal!"  Yeah, right.  If they were obeying laws, they wouldn't be commiting murder, would they?

Furthermore, why is it that it's not okay for me to own a gun yet I am expected to be okay with my tax dollars going to pay for abortions - which I do NOT support?  My gun wasn't purchased with tax dollars so why is it anyone's business but mine what I own?

And I am also sick to death of some people in other countries who complain about the guns in America.  If you don't live here, don't vote here, aren't a citizen and aren't planning to come here, then shut the hell up.  It's none of your damn business.

I am an American and, for now at least, I have the right to own a gun.  What I DON'T have the right to do, however, is to use that gun to kill innocent people.  Shouldn't that be the real issue?

Peevish Little Pets, Aren't They?

There is little difference in people, but that little difference makes a big difference. The little difference is attitude. The big difference is whether it is positive or negative.
~Clement Stone~

Have I mentioned before that I have several pet peeves?  Knowing me, I probably have.  I'm fairly certain I've talked about how much I hate rudeness and I know I've blogged about bad grammar.

Bad grammar doesn't reveal the nature of a person.  Neither does rudeness, really.  We all have bad days and can be rude at times.  I don't consider myself to be a rude person but I'm sure I've been rude more than once without realizing it.  In reality, who hasn't?

My biggest pet peeve, though, is negative people.  I know more than one person with that attitude and avoid them as much as I can.  Whenever possible, I totally remove them from my life.  In my opinion, there is absolutely NO EXCUSE for a consistently bad attitude and I refuse to subject myself to the negative energy that surrounds those people.

Now, don't get me wrong. I know we all have down times when we let the negative thoughts creep in and take over for a period of time.  I suppose a little pessimism is healthy in that it can humble us and make us appreciate the good things in our lives (the keyword there is "little").  That's not what I'm talking about.  I'm talking about those people who are ALWAYS negative.

Most of the negative people I know couple their negativity with rudeness, sarcasm and, at times, insults.  You know what's funny about that?  Those people then complain that they have no friends and can't understand why they're not very popular or included as often.

In some ways, I feel sorry for those people.  They don't have the common sense to know that, first, they are their own problem and, second, they have the power to change their situation.  Something else, too, is that those people tend to be self-absorbed in that they think mostly about themselves and their circumstances.  It doesn't seem to occur to them that someone else may be having a bad day and could use a shoulder.

So, having said all that, if you've read this and wonder if it applies to you, well, you may be on to something.  What kind of attitude do you consistently have and how much attention do I pay to you and your comments?  Food for thought, maybe?

A New Year, A New Beginning

Nothing is predestined. The obstacles of your past can become the gateways that lead to new beginnings.
~Ralph Blum~

A new year usually means a fresh start for most of us. It affords us a clean slate on which we can evaluate our habits and make changes if we choose.  I've been thinking a lot about what I can change - or stop or start - in the new year to make life a little better for myself and my family.

One thing that I've learned through the years is that resolutions with specific goals are more likely to achieve success than the generic 'lose weight', 'exercise more', 'save money', 'quit smoking', etc.  With that in mind, this is my list of resolutions for 2013:

1. I will be more consistent in both my words and my deeds.  When I make up my mind to do a specific task or set a particular goal, then I resolve to see it through.  I will try to keep the tasks and goals to a level that will not discourage me.
2. I will make every effort to live a healthier lifestyle.  I resolve to walk everyday even if it's only for ten minutes.  I further resolve to monitor my junk food intake and to cut back when and where I can.
3. I will attempt to keep a positive attitude no matter how dark the days or what circumstances may befall me.  I resolve to fight any negativity that rears its ugly head and to replace "I can't" with "what can I do to change that to I can".
4. I will try to be more understanding of others and their situations.  I resolve to remember that everyone we know or meet has their own set of circumstances that they're struggling with and I will not make theirs worse by letting my own struggles affect how I interact with them.
5. I will endeavor to spend less impulsively and to use my money more wisely. I resolve to be a better financial manager in my personal accounts.

I honestly don't know if I'll keep all of those resolutions but I resolve to make every effort to do just that.  Oh, one more thing - I resolve to do random acts of kindness more often than I have in the past.

Yeah, 2013 is going to be a MUCH better year.