Two Ages -- Alive and Not

You’re only young once but you can be immature forever. At some point we reach an age we never thought we’d be. And then the decades just keep flying by. There’s some stinking thinking that can be triggered by children who are embarrassed by you, sagging flesh, unflattering photographs of yourself, the tendency to gain weight by merely thinking about certain foods, and those fun little forgetful moments. My personal favorite is telling someone one of my best stories and having them say, “yeah, that’s what you said,” as their eyes glaze over. It’s true that we change as we age. Some ways are inevitable, and some are not. You can think “old” in your twenties. And you can think “young” into your 90s and maybe even beyond. Bob’s 90-something Aunt Mercy gave a spirited performance of classic songs at the Lopez family reunion. I can still see Frederee, my second mom, putting on a CD and dancing a little on her 90th birthday. She kept up with the times. She told her stories of the old days too, but also stayed hip to the here and now.

What are other secrets to staying young at heart? Keep your aliveness and enthusiasm for life. I am not of my kids’ generation and I don’t try to be, but we are inter-generational friends. My life on Facebook isn’t all about them. There’s a “Sue” in there beyond all my roles of wife, mom, grandma, and employee.

I went out last Friday night to hear a friend’s band and I jumped on stage and sang some harmonies. Muscled in, I guess. While off stage I danced, met new people (some in their 20s, others in their 60s), and (perhaps annoyingly) bounced a beach ball around the crowd. I could tell who was old inside and who was young inside. Old people don’t want to play. They want to talk. And they rarely want to listen. Old is not an age. It’s a state of mind. I may have life stages, but I don’t need to make age relevant to my ability to bond with people. Love is ageless.

Finding Peace Amidst Imperfection

I only have a few minutes to share this thought. Must get ready for work. I like my job. But do I wish today were Saturday? Yes. Do I wish Bob didn't have to work from 12-9:30 on Saturday? You betcha. I have almost trained my mind to recognize that thought, capture it, and quickly jump to another thought. It's a beautiful morning. Very still today. The sun is angling in across the yard and the kitchen counter. The counter is clean. The stove burners are not. The carpet is not. The windows are spotted. The chores are never done. The chores of life are never done. We are works in imperfect process. If I search for more imperfections, I will find them. If I search for peace, I'll find that too. The slow in and out of my breathing. The quiet in the house. The knowledge that God loves me, that Bob loves me, that I've been blessed with caring friends who have helped me through many a lonely Saturday. They understand. They have their own imperfections, and I do my best to empathize and help them on the pathway to peace. Love helps everything. It's the brake pad of life that keeps hard things from hitting each other. I'm always free to choose love. And peace. The hippies sure had that right! Peace out.

Too good to be true?

I think I have landed a dream job. I'm nervous even typing that. I feel like I have gone from a trailer park in a cold, dreary town to Beverly Hills. It's an amazing culture shock. I am lecturing myself to not talk about my ghetto past to my new cube mates. But the contrast is giving me a deer-in-the-headlights expression that defies Botox. The moral lesson here was eloquently explained by my second Mom Frederee -- "If something drags you down, turn it a-loose." And there is so much pressure to tolerate abuse. Don't. Please, don't. Move on. God is with you in seeking respect. You don't earn respect by tolerating disrespect. And don't listen to people who tell you to "just accept it." You are good. You are worthy of respect. Don't put up with crap. I put up with it for too long, thinking "it's just me," "it's like this everywhere," "the world has changed," and "I must be more tolerant." NO! I must be more persistent. Detach with love. Move on. Hang with people you admire and want to be like. Make the effort to improve and strive for excellence. The gutter is no place to hang out. Rise above. You deserve it. And you're worth it!

The Baby New Year

A brand new year. A fresh start. Look at it with a child's eyes. Anything is possible. It's never too late for a second chance. I'm right there with you. Maybe what didn't work before will work this time. Ask for what you want. Love a little harder. Smile even when you don't feel like it. Tell someone something nice about them. Let go of last year's hurts. Ditch the bitterness. Go outside, look around and take in the natural beauty. Take purposeful breaks from cyberspace. Call someone you haven't talked to in awhile. Get in your car and visit that friend who lives two hours away. Have someone over for dinner. Give the heavens above more than just a passing glance. Dance. And hug that baby. Any baby. Then refresh your screen -- your brain -- and your heart. Happy new year!

Love is the Key

"Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I have become sounding brass or a clanging cymbal." 1 Corinthians 13:1

I started writing this verse in my journal today. Only I misspelled "cymbal" as "symbol." I love when I accidentally stumble upon a principle. Do I want to be a person who is fully engaged in humanity, or just a "symbol," like the little figure with the skirt or pants that lets us know which restroom to pick?

I don't want to be a symbol. I don't want my work life to be something I do to move money around that has no higher or humane purpose. I want love to be the primary force in my entire life, all parts of it.

The key to my job search is being inspired by the mission of the company I'm working for. Whether I'm managing projects, writing words or taking out the garbage, it doesn't matter. I'm furthering a mission that has value and honor beyond me. Beyond my bills. I may not love every task. But I want to put love into every effort.

Now I am truly on a mission.

Uncover and Recover

Now here's my idea of holiday wrapping! And I'll take sunshine over snow any day. I heard the other day that the holidays magnify the emotions you go through. If your life is in a happy place, the holidays uplevel your bliss. If you're on one of the downs of life, the holidays can make you feel worse. No use to candy coat it. This year contained two very painful losses for me -- the loss of my longtime friend Cece to cancer, and the loss of my job. I guess they are very different losses, in that leaving the job was my choice. And you can't compare a person to a job. But pain and sadness just are what they are. Loss leaves a void. Change is disorienting. And it's easy to feel like I've lost part of who I am at times.

How appropriate that these feelings correspond with winter. The leaves have fallen off the trees. Grass has died or gone dormant. Nature has released life in certain forms to replace it with new life in the spring. And the spring will come. New people come into families. Kids get married. Babies are born. And new opportunities have room to root where something old has been removed. No one can replace Cece. However, other friends come along side and offer their shoulders, company, prayers and understanding. They remind me that I have a long track record of being who I am, and I'm still me.

Loss and sadness open the door for people to care for you. Not that I recommend it as a strategy. But I see the beauty in people comforting one another. You're only alone if you allow it. The world is rich with people who care. Just don't keep your heart wrapped up too tight. A little exposure of its emotions in all their colors allows you to connect and experience the beauty of being loved on. Thanks to all who responded warmly when I let my cover-up slip a bit. I guess I got my favorite gift for Christmas -- Love.

Counting Blessings

I remember a Christmas when my life was like a doughnut. I was encircled with family, I had a stable job and was able to buy a few much needed items with my Christmas bonus. The big hole in the middle was someone special to share my life with. This Christmas my doughnut has turned sort of inside out. I still have wonderful family, but the holidays magnify the loss of certain very significant loved ones. The career is sputtering at the moment. The bright spot is this beautiful person I am blessed to share my life with. It doesn't erase the sadness or the imperfection of life. But what you focus on can guide you from sorrow to gratitude, and that's the ship I'm sailing on today. Thank you for this kind, fun, caring musical soul mate. He's the answer to all my wishes, and the owner of all my kisses. I love you Bob.

Remembering Mom

This lady rubbing noses with my dad would have been 90 years old today. I would have made a Boston Cream Pie and shared a glass of champagne with her if she were still here on the earth. But she is too far away to visit in person, so I will instead visit her in my heart and via cyberspace today. Genevieve Johnston grew up in Wilmington, Delaware, and although she had a most gorgeous name, she preferred to be called "Betty." She played the piano, the harp and the violin. She attended Sarah Lawrence College before marrying my dad in 1941 and moving to Southern California. She bore four girls -- Priscilla, Marie, Carol and me (the caboose). She served at Downey Community Hospital where she became a member of the Board of Directors. Her name is on a plaque outside the hospital. I am proud of her service. Although she loved classical music, I remember her learning "Stairway to Heaven" on the piano for me. She bought me a guitar. She liked it when I sang "Pink Cadillac." She accepted my stepchildren as her own. Even when she was ill, she tried to dissuade me from visiting her because the 50 miles were "such a long drive." It's been 9 years since she passed away. And I still feel like she left me too soon. I guess you just never want to say good-bye to someone so wonderful. She loved with everything she had. "Mama said I love you with every meal she made, and every time she made me take my coat. When I moved away, she smiled through her tears, said she'd be fine here on her own. The brave look on her face told me what she didn't say. I love you more than you will ever know. That's why I wish you'd stay, and why I'll let you go. I will love you even when I'm gone. Take my love with you and pass it on." I will Mom.

Lyrics from "Pass it on"
Available at iTunes by "Special Blend"