Living Happily Ever After

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Progress

“Progress is impossible without change, and those who cannot change their minds cannot change anything.” (George Bernard Shaw)

I’ve been remarried five months now. And as a parent and stepparent, how grateful I am for progress and change!

Progress since the wedding day one child cried through the love song the bridegroom sang to the bride; progress since another child told the bride their life had ended, their world was ruined, because of one wedding—mine.

We newlyweds returned from our honeymoon and went to work trying to effect some change, our sights set on progress, as parents blending families.

For example, I hug my kids each day as they depart for school. I added all children in the household (despite their initial lack of enthusiasm) to this daily tradition. And for the most part, it has worked. Only one day did one child treat me rudely, flat out refuse contact with me and departed for school with an air of hostility. (But in his and my defense, I wasn’t the only person he treated rudely, so I didn’t take it personally. I gave him some space that day. In fact, I believe that is key to parenting AND stepparenting: don’t take things personally, refuse to get offended; give the child some space “that” day, and try again tomorrow!)

Cut to present. Said child left town for two weeks to visit out-of-state family members. Prior to his return, I sent him an email, told him I had missed him and that I had a huge hug waiting for him when he came home. He arrived home, I said his name, he smiled at me, walked from behind his suitcase and toward me, opened his arms and…hugged me!

Soon after, that same child spent time with other family members. I didn’t see him for a few days but the next time I saw him I said, “Hey! You haven’t seen me for a few days, do you have something for me?” Give him credit for being a quick learner. (Either that, or he has given in (aka. given up! haha!) to my traditions; he smiled and hugged me.)

So…hope. Always hope. Hope for change. And see how you can effect it. Even in one tiny little thing.

Work for change. Remember that it’s possible to change any thing, any situation, with effort, work and time. (Very handy to remember in the unexpected life when certain situations, like 2009, or a new life, or a new job, or a health challenge, or a financial adversity, or taking on a new family would be overwhelming if you thought they were permanent!)

Look for progress. Seek to be positive and look for the good. Recognize every little baby step forward and be grateful for it—just don’t be surprised by the attendant slide backward despite the progress, either. It happens.

Keep your eye on the distant, long-term goal and don’t let yourself get overwhelmed by every single aspect and occurence of the journey required to get there!

Because, “If you’re walking down the right path and you’re willing to keep walking, eventually you’ll make progress.” (Barack Obama)

Especially in the unexpected life.

Hatch…Or Go Bad

“I don’t, for the record, have a Tweety Bird fetish.” (Brian Lamb)

But I have enjoyed some special birds.

Once, when I lived in my Colorado neighborhood, an owl took up residence on our front porch. He stayed with us for about 3 weeks and kept a close eye on us–rotating his head all the way around to look at a us, never missing a thing! It was very unexpected. And very typical of life–unexpected.

But the creatures I had the most dealings with for the 16 years I lived in my home were two particular birds: a sparrow and a robin.

The sparrow took up residence every year in the wreath that hung on my front door. Kind homeowner that I was, every fall when she flew away for the winter, I removed the nest and cleaned the bird mess off my front door and secretly hoped she wouldn’t return. But every year she did. When she arrived, she immediately set to work laboring long and hard to build a little nest in the wreath. Then she’d lay her little eggs there. And then she had to endure trying to protect her eggs as our front door opened and closed, and people came and went, throughout the day every day. I’m sure she never expected to live amid such turmoil!

But I have to give her credit for not only enduring her circumstances, but for never giving up; for returning each year, year after year, to do the same thing. It inspired me that she always made it–she built her nest, raised her babies, and survived the winter season to return and do it again.

The unexpected life requires emulation of the sparrow. You don’t expect what you’re handed, you never plan to live amid turmoil, you can’t control much of what you experience, but you can endure. That’s what the sparrow did. And she taught me you can do it year after year, for however long it takes, until you triumph over your challenges.

The robin took up her real estate in the pear tree outside my dining room window. I could stand in my dining room and look out the window and down into her nest. I got to enjoy a bird’s eye view without ever disturbing my bird-friend! She slaved to build her nest; she laid her eggs in it–beautiful, tiny blue eggs; and then she sat on them through rain and shine, sleet and heat and snow. Many times, I watched her huddled in her nest, her wings wrapped around her for protection against the heavy, wet, thick, Colorado spring snow that pounded her little nest relentlessly. But she, too, never gave up despite the heavy burdens that landed on her. And she still managed to not only hatch her eggs and raise her baby birds, but she sang while she did it. Year after year.

When my unexpected life began, I remember feeling a lot like that robin: burdened, huddled, trying to survive the temporary misery amid heavy snow.

The unexpected life requires emulation of the robin, too. Endure, and by virtue of never giving up, eventually conquer the things that are heaped upon you. Hang in there, eventually spring will come. Your burdens will lift (or you’ll have become strengthened and able to bear them) if you don’t give up. And for goodness sake, sing while you do it! There’s a reason Snow White whistled while she worked!

It has been two years since my last interactions with the robin and the sparrow. And now I realize something else, probably the most important thing of all. Thank goodness for the unexpected life, despite its turmoil, trauma, challenges and burdens. Because it forces us out of our shells and out of our nest, we have to fly or fail; hatch or go bad.

Growth is always a choice. In most cases, so is triumph. I love those little birds and their eggs that reminded me of that.

“It may be hard for an egg to turn into a bird; it would be a jolly sight harder for it to learn to fly while remaining an egg. We are all like eggs at present. And you cannot go on indefinitely being just an ordinary, decent egg. We must be hatched or go bad.” (C.S. Lewis)

Thank goodness for the unexpected life that keeps things fresh, and that helps us hatch and grow beyond being just ordinary, decent eggs.

The Hardest Thing

I went to my first kick boxing class recently. I left feeling pretty inept at boxing. Sort of the way I felt the last time I came even close to boxing. In the 1980s. In high school. It was SO “not me.”

I blame it on basketball–one game in particular, and it didn’t even count, it was P.E.! A friend and I played a game of 2 on 5, against a group of five, short Hispanic girls…and it wasn’t pretty…because my friend and I actually played basketball outside of P.E. and we were beating them soundly. The other girls were frustrated, but it didn’t dawn on me (like it would now) to let them win or at least score a few points. It was my experience that “you win some, you lose some,” that’s part of playing the game, and I preferred to win as much as I could.

The next thing I knew, I was on my back, just outside the key. My friend was leaning over me, worried, questioning, “Are you ok?” The other team was standing around with satisfied smirks on their faces as my friend filled me in: while I’d been airborne for a rebound, one of the short girls had gone for my pony tail, grabbed it, forcefully yanked me down from behind, flat on my back onto the court, which knocked me out when I landed!

Told you they were frustrated.

I got back up and continued to play. But every time one of the other team got near me they talked trash and threatened to beat me up outside of class. I ignored them; I thought they had to be kidding. I mean, fight? In my world, that behavior never dawned on me. No one I knew fought or even thought about beating anyone up. I thought they were kidding–until they followed me around everywhere and warned me I’d better pray they never caught me alone or better yet, alone in a bathroom.

I didn’t respond to their threats, I ignored their taunts, I pretended I didn’t see them trailing me (but I confess I was always relieved when I walked into a bathroom and saw other girls in there, just in case) and after what seems like a few weeks (but was probably more like a few days) P.E. ended and I don’t remember ever seeing those angry girls again.

That’s my near-boxing experience.

“I’ll bet the hardest thing about prize fightin’ is pickin’ up yer teeth with a boxin’ glove on.” (Kin Hubbard)

Add pickin’ up yer teeth with boxin’ gloves on to the list of hard things in, and about, life.

Challenges.

Things like sickness, death, disease, poverty, crime, betrayal, divorce, unemployment, emotional trauma, abuse, too much, too little, and every other unexpected challenge that comes your way. Life is full of hard stuff. In fact, life, itself, is hard. As Katherine Hepburn said, “Life is hard. After all, it kills you.”

But before it does, at least TRY to pick up yer teeth. Don’t quit until you succeed in clearing the floor of your molars and cuspids, or whatever your adversity may be. I’ve found, sometimes, that what I’m going through isn’t quite as hard as picking up teeth with boxing gloves on would be (while other times, one year in particular, I admit to wondering if dying wouldn’t have been easier than the challenges I was facing. Thank goodness I never, personally, discovered the answer to that myself.)

Because when you’ve collected your teeth and pulled yourself together, when the bell has rung and you’re back in the match giving it all you’ve got, there’s nothing quite as exhilarating as a knock out. The knock out that comes at the end when you win because you endured. Victory.

The more I think about it, boxing is a lot like the unexpected life. Here’s why:

“As much as I love boxing, I hate it. And as much as I hate it, I love it.” (Budd Schulberg) At some point, we probably all have a love-hate relationship with our new and unexpected life. As much as we love it, we wouldn’t have chosen it. And as much as we may dislike certain aspects of it or the way certain things are, we wouldn’t trade it for the alternative. Life is glorious, regardless of your circumstances.

“Boxing gave me the opportunities to grow into the person that I am today.” (Alexis Arguello) Where would we be, who would we have become, what would we have learned, how would we have grown…without our unexpected life?

“Boxing is the ultimate challenge. There’s nothing that can compare to testing yourself the way you do every time you step in the ring.” (Sugar Ray Leonard) Life, especially the unexpected one, is a test every single day. So it’s vital we get through it. With a passing grade, or better yet, an A+. Our score lies in how we choose to solve the problems and answer the questions put before us.

“Boxing was not something I truly enjoyed. Like a lot of things in life, when you put the gloves on, it’s better to give than to receive.” (Sugar Ray Leonard) Don’t underestimate the importance of giving, giving back, and making the way easier for others as you travel through life. I can’t imagine where my children and I would be today if we hadn’t had a little help from our friends, if others hadn’t reached out to us and helped make our way easier. Truly, it IS better to give than to receive.

So don’t quit. Hang in there until the bell rings and you get a breather. Don’t expect to understand everything all at once, or even in this lifetime. Just trust, as I do, that someday we will be able to see the grand design of a beautiful plan put in place just for us and our necessary growth. Someday, every mystery will be solved.

“When archaeologists discover the missing arms of Venus de Milo, they will find she was wearing boxing gloves.” (John Barrymore)

The unexpected life.

Ding-ding!

Happiness Again

“If suffering brought wisdom, the dentist’s office would be full of luminous ideas.” (Mason Cooley)

My dad was a dentist when I was born.

One of my earliest memories is getting my teeth checked at his office when I couldn’t have been more than three years old: an all-inclusive service he was happy to provide me, complete with the old-fashioned flouride treatment—giant metal trays filled with the most vile tasting goo he insisted would make my teeth better, but the whole time I stared, big eyed, at an alarm clock and watched the seconds S-L-O-W-L-Y tick by as I tried not to throw up yet breathe.

Oh, I love the dentist.

I love the dentist so much I’d rather have a C-section than my teeth cleaned.

Thankfully, I’ve been blessed with good teeth (probably a result of the great dental care I received from birth!) so I haven’t had the opportunity to develop too much wisdom courtesy of my teeth.  I’ve never even had a toothache, that I can recall. I know, I’m lucky.

My middle son, however, is not.

He was struck by terrible tooth pain tonight and is miserable. We called our dentist who is meeting us at his office first thing in the morning to see what he can do to help. And of course, in the morning the rest of the 5th grade will be departing on a special, talked about, hyped-for-months, overnight camping trip. My son, of all my children, gets so excited about things like that. He has been looking forward to participating, and has been writing in his journal about it, for months. He is packed and ready to go have fun with friends, but instead may be sidelined by a toothache and dental work.

Very unexpected.

But life is like that.

I’ve learned, and I’m trying to teach my son, that you’ve got to roll with the unexpected adventures life throws your way, grit your teeth if necessary, endure the pain until it lessens (or you get accustomed to it—your new unexpected  life), and seek the relief that comes as you eventually overcome your challenge. Even if it’s “just” a toothache. And if you do all of that, in time, you’ll find happiness again.

“Happiness is your dentist telling you it won’t hurt and then having him catch his hand in the drill.”  (Johnny Carson)

Winter Eventually Becomes Summer…If You Just Don’t Quit

At times in my life I’ve lived through experiences that seemed to be “just like the movies,” for good and for bad.

Like the day Federal Agents drove up to my Colorado home for the first time, in their caravan of dark SUVs with dark tinted windows, and every agent got out of the vehicle they were riding in wearing dark sunglasses and navy blue jackets with “U.S. Marshalls” embroidered on the back. I remember standing at the front window of my home, watching their arrival scene that appeared to be straight out of Hollywood, wondering how it could possibly be my experience. It was completely surreal, yet unfortunately, real; real enough I was terrified.

But there was nothing I could do. I had to be there, I had nowhere else to go, so I simply had to endure it.

In reality, every agent was very nice and respectful. Although my fear never left me (it’s hard not to feel fearful when a bunch of government agents are in your home because you, and everyone else, have discovered the man you’ve been married to for almost 20 years has secretly been committing a crime to the tune of 14 years and 20 million dollars), I got through it.

Sometimes, that’s all you can do.

Get through it despite the fear and uncertainty. Face what you dread. And although it doesn’t make you feel particularly courageous when you’re afraid, I’ve learned that facing your fear and not quitting in its face, is courage in itself.

“I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear.” (Nelson Mandela)

Some days, getting through the day without quitting means you’ve conquered fear. It’s courageous just to carry on. Even if things don’t turn out the way you hoped. To never quit is brave. To press forward is triumphant. And eventually, the fear goes away. Or you learn that you can survive experiences that are epically fear-inducing and come out just fine on the other side of them, with time.

I’m so glad I never quit, despite the many moments I wished I could have!

Because in those cold, dark moments of dread, indescribable fear, utter humiliation and hardship you’re tempted to think will never end, they do. Life goes on after them. And you learn things about yourself you never knew.

“In the depth of winter I finally learned that there was in me an invincible summer.” (Albert Camus)

Summer has always been my favorite season.

It’s Not A Movie, It’s My Unexpected Life

They came.

Government representatives, approximately eight of them.  Wearing dark jackets and sunglasses, flashing gold badges, they arrived at my home in dark Suburbans with tinted windows–just like in the movies.  Only this time it wasn’t a movie, it was my new and unexpected life.

I was embarrassed.  I was humiliated.  I was ashamed to be associated (by marriage only) with anyone and anything that required government agents entering my home, doing inventory of its contents, and compiling lists of things for seizure.  It was surreal.

They were very kind to me.  Very polite.  They quietly chatted, walked from room to room filming the contents, narrated what they were filming, they asked questions. I mostly stood in one corner of the house, in the dining room, looking out the window, seeing the same view I’d gazed at for the past 16 years so differently. Sadly, I saw everything very differently now. I tried to come to grips with what was taking place in my home around me.

But I don’t think I ever reconciled it.  I just endured it, and waited for it to be over.

I had so many questions, but hardly dared speak unless spoken to, much less dared to ask my questions.  (And it wasn’t because the officials were sullen looking, tough, or anything else.  It was completely the opposite, in fact.  They were a group of nice looking, clean cut, friendly, polite, people.  They seemed trustworthy and good.  Had I met them in any other circumstances, I really would have liked them!  That day I was just completely out of my element, still in shock, and very afraid.)

Before they left, I dared ask if they would be taking the painting my mom had painted and the things I had inherited from her.  (They weren’t worth anything monetarily, but they had huge sentimental value to me and I was prepared to fight for them.)  They assured me they would not take anything of my mom’s.  Then they told me what I could expect to happen next and when, and gave me permission to remove any personal items, household items and furniture.  They also told me they weren’t interested in my jewelry.

Then they were gone.

I went from there to meet with my attorney. The attorney I had to hire even though I hadn’t known anything was going on and had never participated in any illegal activity. It was our first meeting.  To my surprise, it actually was an encouraging meeting.  (Maybe the only encouraging meeting I attended through the whole experience!)  Not encouraging regarding money, there was no money, but encouraging regarding the rest of my life.  Here’s why.

The day my spouse told me of His crimes, He also told me He, and I (even though I had no involvement in any part of His crimes), would be “watched” the rest of our lives.  Talk about a life sentence that never ends!  Instead, my attorney told me that when everything was settled, I would be free to move on and live my life.

I had to make sure I’d heard right.  ”Free to live my life as a private citizen? Free to live a life of anonymity again?”

Yes.

What a gift freedom is.  And the opportunity to live life, quietly and privately, unexpected as it may be?  A true gift.

It’s amazing when you think you’ve lost it all, to realize that you still have the greatest gift ever given:  life.  I am so grateful for mine.  It’s not the one I imagined for myself or the one I worked to create those many years, but it is still a gift; a life of possibilities. Mine to make of it what I can and will.  That is my responsibility.  I believe that is the responsibility we each have, whatever the “life gift” we receive.

“Life is a gift, and it offers us the privilege, opportunity, and responsibility to give something back by becoming something more.” (Tony Robbins)

I also believe life is a choice.  We can choose to laugh or cry (as I’ve mentioned before); we can choose to educate ourselves or remain ignorant; we can choose to make stumbling blocks or stepping stones out of our experiences; and we can choose to press forward and carry on or give up and quit. I am grateful to have been taught to make the most of mine.  That is one gift I can give myself. All of us can.

“God gave us the gift of life; it is up to us to give ourselves the gift of living well.”  (Voltaire)