Father’s Day, old dads and new dads

I miss my dad.  I’m just gonna lay it out there.  My life has not been the same since dad passed away.  My dad was a force greater then life.  He was loud, and boisterous, he was funny and very strong in his views on how the world should be run. And he loved Jesus. And, he loved his family.  I never ever doubted my father’s love.  Never questioned if he loved me or my siblings.  I knew he did. I knew he would die for any one of us.  And I knew he adored my mom.  I wanted a life like that. Don’t get me wrong…mom and dad had their issues through out life.  They were far from perfect.  But they did love.  

And now my daughter will be having a baby of her own, my grandson, her dad’s grandson, and her husband will be a daddy.  I have no doubt that he will be an amazing dad who will had down incredible memories and legacies to his son.  In fact I am very proud to say that he will be my grandson’s dad.  I’m so excited to see them become parents.  It is going to be a joy to watch.  

Father’s Day is often underplayed or overlooked which I think is really sad.  In this day and age it is difficult to find a good dad out there, and I think the true amazing dad’s should be celebrated, loved on and totally made to feel honored at least on this one day a year.  

So, here is to all you dads, who work so hard to make ends meet for your families, who help with homework, help putting kids to bed, the dads that cook dinner and read books, the dad’s that play baseball and run with the dogs in the back yard.  All you men who go the extra mile for your families to keep them together and happy.  I applaud all of you.  Happy Father’s Day!!!

Valentines day, Girl Scout cookies, a single woman

There have been times in my life, recently I might add, when thinking about valentines day and all those romantic days really make me wanna scream like a girl.  You know the scream I’m talking about.  It’s the one where you stand in the middle of the room, arms stiffly by your side, hands in very tight fists; so tight that the nails are digging into your skin, your feet are firmly planted on the ground, teeth clenched so tight that the scream you want to get out will have difficulty passing through that small opening. Valentines day isn’t the only holiday like that.  Christmas can be like that, fortunately for me I have three amazing kids and there is nothing better or more of a blessing to me then to give them gifts and watch their faces light up.  But marketing typically works toward those lovers young and old who will be giving gifts of jewelry or candles or any of those types of romantic gfts.  

I’m not sure if there are any other people out there who feel the same way I do about these romantic holidays.  I am a single woman, no husband or boyfriend, no special  person on the horizon for me.  So here’s the deal….there are so many other things in life that are worth being angry about.  There are many special causes that are more worthy of my anger.  But for some reason, these holidays really bother me.  I want that in my life.  I want the romance and the love and the beautiful gifts.  I want to be loved and cherished and to know that someone thinks that “a kiss begins with K” in our life. People always say that women don’t need a man to make them feel complete. The don’t need that guy to come hone to or to be there at night to snuggle up to.  Single women are strong, independent, cool and their lives are full and happy.  And I would have to say that possibly for a lot of single women that is true, or at least they give off the aura that it is true for them.  Well folks, I am going to stand up and tell you all that it is not true for me.  I loved being in a relationship.  I loved dating that special someone, I loved having someone to come home to at night, to hold hands with when I walked down the street.  I loved being married, knowing that I belonged to him and he belonged to me.  And no I’m not saying it was a slavery type of relationship or that I didn’t have or want my independence to be taken away from me because I was married.  The point of marriage to me was that it was a giving of myself, to be faithful and true, to be loving and caring, to be the one for the other and he was the one for me.  Unfortunately, my marriage didn’t work out.  It fell apart and I was truly devastated.  So, I quickly, in the blink of an eye became a single female I had to pull up my boot straps and begin the work of starting over.  

Please don’t get me wrong.  There is nothing wrong with being a single woman.  There is nothing wrong with being an independent female going it on your own and making a life for yourself.  As a matter of fact there are many days when I wish that I was wired in that way.  But I wasn’t.

What is the point of this long blog…the point is this.  This year I AM MY OWN VALENTINE!  I am going to love myself, cherish who I am and who I am becoming as a single woman.  The reality is that I may be forever single, that a significant other may not be in my future.  So, whether I like it or not those romantic holidays may be spent with me, myself, and I.  Yes, my children will be around, my little grand baby with be here as well (in august) so those loves of my life will continue to be my heart!  This is not a depressing thing, this is not a horrible life, and this life can and will be fulfilling for me.  Eventually the hole that is there where a love should be will close and I won’t need to be defined by that relationship.

There is always that chance that I will find a love, that I will have that romance in my life, however the fear is always there…that one that is always in the back of my head “I have Lupus, i am sick and every day is different for me”  At what point do I tell a guy that little tidbit of information?  And how quickly after giving that information does he run out the door?  

So, there it is.  My rant on valentines day, on being single and on the desire to not be!  Lift your glasses to all of us independent single women, whether we are the ones who enjoy it, or the ones who don’t.  We are strong and amazing just the way we are!

HAPPY VALENTINES DAY! 

the olympics in middle age

i have learned, at least in my life, that watching the olympics changes over the history of one’s life. when i was young, although i was the furthest thing from an athlete, i would watch these amazing games with the wide eyed wonder of a hopeful child, dreaming that perhaps one day i could be there, walking down that walkway that leads to the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat.  I could see myself, long blonde hair blowing in the breeze as i skated across the ice, spinning and leaping through the air in the long or short program of my figure skating performance. believe me there were several hair cuts that were inspired in my life by the olympic atheletes…any one remember Dorothy Hammil? Sometimes it was a dream as simple as being one of the people who would be dressed in a strange costume carrying the name of a country during the opening ceremony’s.  The Olympics were a family event in my home growing up.  I would love those evenings when we all as a family gathered around the TV set to watch expectantly for the US to win another medal.  

Then as I got older and the hopes of being a competitor in the olympics faded into the past, not that it was ever a reality in the least, other things would race through my mind. For instance “I wonder if that guy is single and if he would love to marry me?” Another dream that was pretty unattainable but very fun to think about.  But still the family moments still rang very true.  I remember watching the dream team Hockey Team that won that amazing battle in the 80’s for gold.  My family sat watching, along with the rest of the country, with bated breath as the dream team pelted in those pucks to win the gold for a country that was so very grateful.  And more often then not a movie of the week (we had no cable, or Lifetime, or netflix at that time) would be promoted for several weeks building up the excitement so we could relive those magical moments again.  Sometimes those movies were so big that they actually were shown in the movie theater, some of my favorites were cool runnings, chariots of fire, miracle.  The olympics have always been one of those things that brings our families, our culture, our country and our entire world together on a level that is rarely seen.  

As my own kids grew I watched with them as the olympics would fill the tv screen with sights and sounds and cultures that they had never seen before. They would pick out their own favorite sports, they would root for their favorites.  And we would cheer together.  Those are memories that now, as I look back, are so precious to me.  Those few times that were spent as a family with no one screaming to turn the channel to something else.  We all agreed on what we would watch…and we all felt pride in our atheletes and our country for every medal that was won.  It didn’t matter the color of the medal, honestly it didn’t really matter if there was a metal.  What mattered was that it was our nation working together, celebrating together.

Now, as a middle aged women, with kids of my own who are all grown up, I am sitting here, with the dog, watching these opening ceremonies, mezmorized by the colors, by the spectacle of the whole thing. On the screen is this little girl, fearlessly being flown hundreds of feet in the air to tell the story of Russia, and the stadium is silent.  Seeing the wars and horrible times that Russia went through also binds us all together as countries, none of us having been kept from those awful times in our own histories.  This year I am not watching the Olympics dreaming about what I could do in the games, or even dreaming about what sports my own kids could medal in, but rather I am enjoying the art, the sport, the thrill of it all. I am hoping for safety for our young athletes, I am hoping for calm, for safety in a very unstable world.  And I am remembering all the happy times that I have had in my own life, thanks to the Winter Games.  Go USA…and let the games Begin!

its just too great not to keep sharing!

and baby makes 3