Summer Days

Yesterday my husband, daughter and her cousin went for a paddleboat "trip." I dropped them off at Howard's Woods and they paddled and explored down the river until they got to the lake dock where I picked them up again. The trip took a little over 2 hours and they had a ball!

I looked at the photos my husband took, and smiled. This is what summer days are supposed to be like for kids. Though the girls are 11 and 14, they waded, splashed, looked for turtles, crayfish and other water life and got their flip flops totally encased in mud! Of course, they also listened to music from their phones while they paddled, texted and generally acted like the teen and preteen of the 21st century that they are. My husband had a lay-off day and put it to good use. I hope this is a day my daughter and her cousin remember, when they recall the good times of the summer.

It's my day off and I'm sitting in front of the computer instead of doing things I should be doing. (So what else is new??!)

I was thinking this morning, how rich my life is and how thankful I am for it. I often get in the habit of complaining about little things...either to myself or aloud to others. I need to get out of that habit. Little things are nothing. It's the big things that matter. I have a wonderful family that includes a loving husband, smart, beautiful daughters and step-daughter and adorable grandchildren. I also have a warm, supportive extended family, both those related by blood and in-laws. I have friends and a job I like and we can manage to pay for our gas and groceries. (so far!!)

It's so easy to let other things bring down our mood and ruin our day. Spilled coffee, unkind words, rain, a headache, a misunderstanding, any number of things that will be better tomorrow. We would do well to keep that in mind and keep a positive outlook. But there are perhaps a lot of things that maybe won't be better tomorrow, or the next day, or next week or next year. It helps, I think, to remember that these are the things that shape us. Or rather, our reaction to these things are what shape us. We are who we are largely because of our experiences, and it's the challenging and bad experiences that shape us the most. How do we respond to the stresses of life? Do we stress out and ruin our health? Do we plod on, one day at a time? Do we give up on life? Do we blame God and the world for our misfortune and live resentfully? I believe I've responded in each one of these ways at some time in my life.

I'm trying to react differently. I'm trying to remember that I'm here to learn and love. I'm trying to remember that I am more than this body with it's aches and pains, this mind that gets stressed and worried. In me is a spark of God that is pure love and I can choose peace at all times. The only thing we can control is what we think. My mind doesn't remember why I am here, but my soul knows. So I don't want the stresses of life to turn me into an angry, resentful, unhappy person. I want them to shape me into someone who is then compassionate to others because I realize they have their stresses and burdens too.

It's a lofty goal that I fall short of every day. But just about every day, I listen to someone tell of events in their life that cause sadness, stress and frustration. We are all the same. Even though we struggle in different ways, we all have those things in our lives for which we can be thankful. We all can choose peace each day.

So when I wake up in the morning and I'm in pain, or my mind is jumbled with all I have to do that day, or I find myself feeling for any reason that I just don't want to face the day....I can take a deep breath and say, no....I choose peace today.

"Nobody can bring you peace but yourself."
- Ralph Waldo Emerson

Father's Day

I was thinking about Father's Day and my own dad and thought I'd write a little bit about my dad.

As a child the main thing I knew was that my dad went to work. And he also came home again, and that was a time to look forward to arriving. "Daddy's home!" we kids would shout and run to the driveway. Dad brought energy into the house with him. I liked to listen to him tell Mom his day, often while standing, as though he were too wound up to sit. He wasn't the kind of guy to come home and sit with a beer. He was the one to ask if you wanted to do something fun, because he was likely to say yes, or tell us to "ask your mother" which probably meant he didn't want to be the one to say no.

For the most part, Dad wasn't the disciplinarian, mostly because he was at work a lot, so it was left to Mom. That, perhaps unfairly then, made him more of the "fun guy." But if you did upset him - look out! No one wanted Dad angry with them. He didn't get over it right away. I think I spent a fair amount of time trying to please my dad. I wanted his approval, as little girls tend to do with dads.

My dad played fast pitch softball, and he was the pitcher. We kids liked to watch him play and cheer him on. As a young teen, I proudly wore one of his softball jerseys. Dad sometimes took us fishing, which I didn't care for, but liked spending time with him. Dad set off the fireworks, swam with you, taught you how to catch and throw a ball, helped you learn to ride a bike and drive a car, killed bugs and mice and brought you home puppies. My dad loved having a baby in the house and hated when someone inevitably spilled their milk at supper.

When I was a teenager, Dad and Mom bought a grocery store, so there was always a job for me. I got to know more about my dad then. He knew a lot about running a business, he was kind and friendly with customers, old ladies loved him. His employees liked him. He could cut meat and would explain to me what he was doing, and I was in awe that he knew so much. I learned a new respect for him.

When I became an adult, I learned that my dad would still love me even if I really screwed up. He would always show up when I needed someone to help me move. I learned he cared about my happiness. I saw him cry only one time, when my husband died. I learned that his feelings ran deeper than he usually showed.

My dad drinks coffee when he's thirsty, even when it's hot outside, knows the price of everything he buys, knows where to get the best meal for the best price, can cook if he has to, cleans and can fix things. He plays cards, likes to fish but doesn't hunt and likes country music and dancing. He is also a talented artist, making and carving things of wood.

Dad likes a funny story. He likes kids. He's willing to help people when he can. He delivers "Meals on Wheels."

My mom used to tell me that I was like my dad. I don't know if that's true, but I hope I have some of his traits. He is a good man. I'm proud to call him my dad.