Category: relationships

Beep, beep, boop?

ShirleyjdietzLeave a comment

What?  Who did this? To those of you reading who are not also bloggers, I will explain.  One of the latest updates to WordPress, my blog host, includes a cute little “beep, beep, boop” message wiggling around in the center of a blank screen for a few seconds after certain commands are instituted.  It’s a thing to look at while you’re waiting.  Evidently someone thought that us bloggers would lose interest and wander off if we didn’t have something new to look at for three seconds while our post is being published.  I’d like to meet the originator of this idea and try to figure them out. I’m always amazed at the things people will think to do.  Actually, sometimes I’m also amazed at the things people don’t think to do – the old rule, never say never,  applies equally to never say always. Both good things to remember.

This last week, every time I sat down at the computer I lost interest and wandered off.  One day I didn’t even turn the thing on.  But that’s ok.  A week of inactivity online doesn’t bother me much and gives me the opportunity to write about what I have been into while I haven’t been writing.

– Equate extra strength Headache Relief,  for the headache that doesn’t seem to want to quit.  Although I’m probably not doing my stomach any favors, I’m grateful for the four or five hours of relief and super wakefulness that I get from swallowing a couple pills.

Hello headache, my old friend...
Hello headache, my old friend…

– Intraocular injections (shot in the eyeball), for the eye problem that was dramatically improved, in the doctor’s own words.  I’m grateful that it’s working and that I don’t have to get another one for five weeks, although I am getting used to everything about them (except the cost…)

the back of my eye
the back of my eye

– Childcare, for several of my yòoung friends who I realize I’ve been missing.  How come you guys can grow up in what seems like no time at all? Gracie, Lydia, Josh, Zeke, Shiloh – grateful for time spent with you that makes me feel younger even while I marvel at you getting older.  I’m troubled by the fact that I’ve never played X-box.  Is that weird?

Childcare for her, adult care for me...
Childcare for her, adult care for me…

– Old letters and old files, for the urge to purge and to organize. Lots of stuff has been burned or shredded, but lots else has been rediscovered and readied for the next project, memoir writing.  I’ve always been alarmed by my lack of memory for details of the past.  Not only did I forget all those details, but I forgot that I’d written them down in letters to others.  This morning, reading letters written to my mother ten years ago, all I could think was “Really, I did that?” and “Did some other person’s life sneak into my letters?”  Grateful for the written record of the past.

I'm more prolific than I remembered.
I’m more prolific than I remembered.

– Appliance shopping, because the washer and dryer that have wanted to leave my house for years, finally broke free.  Grateful that within hours of starting to shop for replacements I came across a used set that is probableyten years younger.  After only one session with the furniture dolly, the truck, the hoses, wrenches and plumbing tape, they are installed in my laundry room and functioning almost correctly.  The printed message under the temp dial that says “all rinses are cold only” really means they are scalding hot only.  I think I know how we can fix that.

the Laundry twins, Hi and Dri
the Laundry twins, Hi and Dri

– Air travel websites, for the supposed improvement of doing it yourself.  Instead of calling a knowledgeable person and telling them when and where I want to travel I can now spend hours online hunting for the best connection at the best price.  And American Express Delta Frequent Flyer card, how dare you revoke the companion ticket feature without telling me.  Planning my revenge…

Did. Not. Happen.
Did. Not. Happen.

– the garden that was, the heat that is, that yard that will be.  Grateful for the healing work that takes place in me when I’m outdoors.  Grateful for green things, if they’re plants – not, if they’re worms.

Good green
Good green
Bad green
Bad green

 

– Face time, with friends and family who care.  I am realizing that the purpose and value of life is all in the relationships I find and nurture.  Realizing also that God is that friend and that family member who makes it all possible.  Having less work away from home has given me more time to nurture the relationship with him and I am so grateful for that.  Gives me some precious times of discovery, comfort, peace and excitement. Arlette and I took a lovely walk yesterday and talked of all these things.

Nature walk with my friends Arlette and God.
Nature walk with my friends Arlette and God.

 

My friend Arlette (and maybe God too, on her left)
My friend Arlette (and maybe God too, on her left)

She Loved

Shirleyjdietz6 Comments

I’ve had a bent toward independence most of my life and kind of wrestled with the question of whether I had ever had a mentor. I had my mom – she was always my first “go to” person, but being mom was her job, a position all its own.  There were a lot of other people I knew and I spent a lot of time thinking about their experiences. I did that in order to avoid their pitfalls. It seemed like a good idea not to learn firsthand what I could learn vicariously. But a mentor?

So I was a bit surprised when I did think of someone.  I thought of Elaine and immediately knew why she came to mind.

It wasn’t because she had any kind of corrective role in my life.  I don’t think she ever pointed out specifics about my child rearing or my work habits.  She didn’t tell me to keep house better or spend more time with the kids.  What she did do was make time for evenings playing cards with the husbands, and invite us to watch fireworks over the golf course from her nearby yard.  She had tea parties with my young girls and met me for breakfast after my night shifts at the hospital.  We went to a crazy restaurant where they had beaver on the menu and laughed while she tried it (she tried it).  She loved people and was always telling me about the interesting ones she met.  She wanted to be better at helping them and studied to be part of the Stephen ministry at her church. And the thing that fed my soul the most, she always acted like she enjoyed our times together.

Part of the attraction for me was the difference in our ages and stages of life.  Elaine was already married to my cousin and living in her first home when I was a young teen. She hosted me and several of my same age cousins at a family wedding, putting up with our late night antics and endless harmonizing to “Moon River”.  She was beautiful, but not arrogant.  Years later when I was married, working, mothering and struggling to keep it all together, she was still beautiful and gracious in a way that  time and experience had only magnified. She was honest about the parts of life that weren’t perfect, but didn’t dwell on them.  She gave me the message that those imperfections didn’t have to define one’s life, that they offered opportunities for growth and satisfaction.

We moved away.  For a couple of years I only saw Elaine when we came back to the hometown on vacation.  I worried when she was diagnosed with leukemia, but she went through chemo, bought herself a wig and carried on as she always had.  It was a shock when her disease took a turn for the worse.  Within days she was gone.  I did not get to say goodbye.

I did not fully realize how much I loved her until she was gone. Knowing her was a singular experience.  I can’t think of anyone else who gave of herself and spent time with me in quite the same way, noticing the highs and lows of my life and responding with encouragement and love. And that, simply, was it. She loved.

It’s Not A Crime

ShirleyjdietzLeave a comment

 

This is not a post from a sweet,  gray haired, “got it all figured out” Christian lady . I am just a person who sometimes lies awake at night wondering about life and who I am and why I’m here.

This is a week where a family member has died. It’s a week when a child has asked me “do you think it would be okay to have fun and not be sad?” I have come to a conclusion. It is not a crime to be happy. The world is full of terrible things, even so, it is more of a crime to be sad than to be happy. We were made to be happy. That is good news.

All the terrible things in the world didn’t come about by chance. They were not put here for us by an uncaring God either. We chose those things ourselves, most of them, and others came because we chose to hang out with a bad gang bent on destruction. Those terrible things, all of them, came when we didn’t believe what we were told about how to be happy.

It is somewhere deep in our being to think, and then say “NO, I do it myself!” Why is it so hard for us to believe that we are not the smartest, most reasonable, most capable, most invincible beings ever? Why is that so hard? Why do we act like a two year old child when we are told what will be best for us? Why does it take us fifty, sixty, seventy, ninety years to realize that we are not in control and that our days are going to run out. Those days go by faster and faster, begging us to look the issue straight on, to decide whether we will let ourselves acknowledge our parent who knows more than we do, our creator, and call him God.

I am not a preacher or a missionary. Sometimes I wish I were a missionary and could go to some land where life is very difficult, much more basic and simple. People there do not need to be convinced that there is a God. Most of the time they just need to be told and they recognize it as what they’ve been longing to hear and know. I live in a land where people think too much about some things and too little about other more important things – but there is a lot of thinking going on. Thinking like that young child, which is pretty much “what do I want now?”

This whole question of what’s going on with life can be learned by studying that parent – child relationship. It’s all there. I’ve had kids. I know. I’m not talking about all the bad variations of it that we have managed to come up with. A true parent longs for the child from the moment it is conceived in the mind, becomes more in love with it as it develops, protects it, delights in seeing it progress, grow and assume unique qualities. A true parent is concerned with the lifelong happiness of the child and has a better picture of how that is to be achieved than does the child. The toddler sincerely thinks he is capable, because he knows what he wants now. He does not know what he will want later – he has to be told that and don’t expect him to understand. Really, you can’t even tell him.

Don’t try.

Can you see how we are kind of like toddlers all our lives? We try one thing that we want after another, trying to feel big and important and smart and we will do it ourselves. We are not able to understand. We will test. We will insist. A good parent knows this will happen and plans for it. A good parent would die to keep their child safe and bring them through those tests. I am not a perfect parent but I feel that way about my kids. I think God feels that way about me.

I live in a world that is crazy with design and beauty, full of things meant to be good, meant to produce growth. I’m like that baby that grows up in the home provided by the parents – it’s child-proofed and I’m surrounded by toys to amuse and educate me. I’m watched over, cared for. Could I possibly think I put all that in place myself ? More and more, I know that I did not do it myself.

I lie awake at night thinking about this. Why does this even make sense to me? Why doesn’t it make sense to everyone – that’s what I wonder. Am I missing something?

Where’s the Lid?

ShirleyjdietzLeave a comment
Who would expect mayhem in such a peaceful place?
Who would expect mayhem in such a peaceful place?

It’s as if someone left the lid off the crazy bottle lately and little demons are spilling out all over.  Evidently I completely missed a life or death battle next door last night.  True, the person who related the story to me is a bit given to drama –  if he was really being chased around the yard by an angry woman with a shovel, would I not have seen that? Sigh.  We have two adjoining houses in the oneacrewoods.  We’ve rented out the second house ever since my parents stopped coming down in the winter.  I would say that probably 75% of the renters have been people we enjoyed having next door.  The other 25% have given us some bizarre stories to tell.  I have come to understand that this is all part of being a landlord and no matter how careful one tries to be, situations change, things happen.  The ideal appearing applicant is still a human being with life problems and things can go crazy down the road. I wonder if the message I see in all the recent events is that it’s time to make life a little less complicated.  Simplification can be a beautiful, freeing thing and I might be ready for some of that.  What am I going to want to put up with in five years? ten years? or, for instance, when I’m 90? This week I went to visit the 90 year old lady, living by herself, who needed some help dealing with her security company (read about it here) .  We were able to solve that problem without too much trouble, but I became aware of other problems that come with age and limited mobility.  After we cleared a place off at the table where months of mail was stacked, our conversation turned to how she hadn’t eaten much that day and wished she had a complete food for herself like she did for her dog.  Some sort of pelletized people food would be ideal.  She still drives her truck to the store for milk but she admitted that it was getting a little scary.  And yet she hesitated at my offer of help.  Her mind knows she is not taking good care of herself but her body makes it hard for her to do any better. We are all getting older and we need to watch out for each other and help each other when we can.  I’m just saying, who do you know who needs some  looking after?  Food for thought.

The Way Things Are

Shirleyjdietz1 Comment

I have no control, not really.  I may make appointments and think I know where I’m going to be, but it’s never really the case.  It’s such a true saying “wherever I go, there I am” and that’s about all I can count on.  It’s okay.  It relieves me of a lot of responsibility. I didn’t even get upset last night when the post I’d spent a couple hours thinking through and writing down disappeared when I inadvertently moved my hand in front of the touch screen.  I guess WordPress doesn’t have automatic update/save.  That’s the way things are.

Today I am put in charge of a situation to solve for someone else, if I can.  I have total compassion for people who by some strength of body and mind have managed to live to be old, like over 90, and still are taking care of themselves.  But things get difficult and maybe it’s hard to remember how you used to take care of difficulties with contracts and bills and harassing phone calls.  So you are happy to let someone help you.  I was volunteered for this job.

My friend C. who is younger, only a year or so past 80, has taken to looking after a neighbor, the above mentioned person.  A while back she fell in the driveway on her way to the mailbox and couldn’t get up. Someone noticed and came to her aid.  Later when C. was with her he suggested she get some kind of device she could use to summon help.  She had one – it was in the house, when she was in the driveway.  He found out she was a bit disturbed with a bill she had gotten from the security company.  She had an experience with a rather sharp tongued customer service rep when she called to ask about it.  She didn’t understand and C. couldn’t explain it to her but he told her Shirley would take care of it, not to worry.  Right.

After half a dozen calls I finally get to someone who might have info on this account and, as usual, I have to have a password or they won’t address the issue with me.  That’s the way things are.  What are the chances our 90 year old friend will remember a password she chose three months ago?  I don’t remember passwords I chose last week.

It’s a strange day outside.  It is bright and sunny except for the three or four times (about every hour) when a cloud has coasted overhead and dumped torrential rain for 10 minutes or so.  We are in Florida and that also is just the way things are.

Honor

Shirleyjdietz6 Comments

Today I will think of all the spent hours of your life that translated into food for my body, clothing to cover me and as much security as you knew how to create.  Today I will consider that you started out as a teenage man with little instruction in family life, except that you grew up in a family yourself.  I will think about the times you changed your path and the uncertainty you must have felt as you searched for a better way to provide.  I will think about why you would fall asleep in your chair at the end of all those long days – not from laziness or drunkenness or escapism, but because you were physically exhausted.

I will realize that as a human you probably experienced sadness, frustration, anger (oh yeah), despair and doubt and yet you never bothered us children with any of it.  We had little knowledge of your struggles because you were a man and we were self absorbed children.  You taught us how to work alongside of you, but you always worked harder and longer.  And yet I can remember that you sang in the barn, and whistled and tried to yodel.  You modeled that it was possible, and desirable to enjoy work.  You gave me the idea that sometimes when trouble seems overwhelming the best thing to do is just go out and work at something.  Sometimes the trouble loses interest and goes away unfulfilled.  And at any rate, working is better than worrying.

As you’ve grown older with so many limitations ganging up on you, your persistence to do what you can inspires me (and scares me, but, hey… how can a nearly blind man on a rider mower cause any trouble?)  I see you teaching lessons of humility (when Mom is right and you are wrong), lessons of love (when you rub Mom’s feet and wash the dishes), lessons of trust (when you put those unsolvable things in God’s hands).  And you still whistle now and then and have Pandora playing on your cell phone, announcing your presence as you go.  I honor you for all of that.

Today I will grieve that as a society we have almost lost the concept of honoring our fathers for anything. Temptations are everywhere, expectations are high, psychology focuses on faults and there is nothing that cannot be blamed on a father.  I will remember how hard it is to be the head of anything, particularly a family.  I will be thankful for you – that you have not run away, that you are my dad, my father.

One of my favorite pictures of you, Dad
One of my favorite pictures of you, Dad

Sign Me Up, Please

ShirleyjdietzLeave a comment

I was only two steps ahead of a giant lizard who had gained entry into the dorm and was sucking up hapless students as they tried to figure out what was going on. That one had Jurassic Park written all over it.

Last night I dreamed.  I probably dream every night but I rarely remember any of them. For some odd reason I remember two dreams from last night. I willed the Jurassic Park one to go away and not come back.  It worked and I slept again. But the second dream was different and I hung on to it in wonder.

We, myself, my two girls and my mother, were in a large medical building waiting to be called for appointments.  My youngest was only about three and I was carrying her.  I was feeling kind of like a mother who has been denied custody of her children and is suddenly reunited.  I asked if she wanted to get down and run around but she said no and we hugged closer and smiled at each other.  We sat down since the wait was interminable, but we were still content.  My oldest daughter leaning against my knee and the youngest snuggled close on the chair beside me.  It was the most pleasurable situation and I remarked “this is the way it should be”.

The strangeness of the dream is that we do not have a broken home and I have never been denied custody. My children are grown and live far enough away that I do not see them often but they have moved on in very natural ways. I wanted them to grow up and have lives of their own. They have done that successfully.

It was like a little gift – to have that time back again so vividly – when arms were wrapped around my neck and a small head rested on my shoulder. I’m just sayin’ that I would like a regular subscription to that dream. 5-Reasons-Why-Pregnant-Moms-Ignore-Advice-Lift

A 21st Century Mother’s Day

Shirleyjdietz2 Comments

Things I did on Mother’s Day weekend 2014:

Giant rose takes over dining room table
Giant rose takes over dining room table

– The husband started things out by taking me to Miller’s Dutch Family Restaurant. We went on Saturday night because Miller’s is always closed on Sunday, so we thought.  We were greeted by signs everywhere that they were now open 7 days a week.  Wonder what brought about this change? But we stayed.

– Went to the evening service of Exalt Church, which was fortunate because it was the only social celebrating of the M.D. occasion the whole weekend.  Received a beautiful rose and there were tasty desserts.  I was pretty full of Miller’s strawberry pie but managed to  put down a piece of  chocolate cake, a sacrificial act, to be polite of course.

– Talked on phone with the eldest daughter who was agonizing over our inability as a family to make much of holidays. Evidently I don’t make people feel guilty enough when they forget when the holiday is, therefore they develop the habit of forgetting. This daughter calls several times a week and we talk a lot so I have no trouble forgiving her for not driving for four hours and appearing on my doorstep.  I tell her not to feel guilty. We perpetuate our habit of not keeping holidays.

– I try to send my email Mother’s Day greeting to my mother.  Called her earlier to apologize for not mailing the card I bought her on time for her to get it. She doesn’t make me feel guilty… hmm, something familiar about this scenario.  Computer is being really difficult and won’t let me send so I go to bed.

– Sunday morning and the computer has healed. I send the letter to my mom.

– The husband has met up with a virus overnight (he didn’t catch a cold, it caught him). He doesn’t want to be coughing and hacking all over people at church so I go alone. Received nice Mother’s Day hugs from several friends. Oddly enough, no mention in the service about it being Mother’s Day (or was I just not listening?)

– Made a call to a young mother and had a good chat.

– Received a long email from youngest daughter yesterday but also today, a picture via text of the card she bought me.  This gives me great idea because theoretically, one would not even have to buy the card – just take phone camera to the card shop and click away. Clever.

– Another text greeting from a “not quite, but almost like a son” young man in California. Came with a virtual hug.

– For fun, I relax by catching up on all 5 types of solitaire challenges for month of May until I am hallucinating and feeling weird.  I see a 6 and immediately think 7, numbers are coming at me from all directions. I go to kitchen for my favorite, Cozy Shack rice pudding.

There are still several hours of this holiday left and who can guess what wonders await me.  Feeling happy and blessed.

 

 

–

Change, bring it on…

Shirleyjdietz1 Comment

I have to say that things have begun to change for me already, but  that will continue.  Since last August I have been following an inner directive to be free for helping  my immediate family should they need it.  There are extended times in the ordinary progression of life when everyone  is on the young side, fairly healthy, moving forward and enjoying independence.  And then there are those other times that are not all those same things.  If the family is like a wagon train heading across the plain, there are times when they need  to circle the wagons.  That’s a bit of what I feel.

Time is not a limitless commodity. I want to make conscious decisions where I spend my time and who I spend it with.  As much as I love and appreciate my present friends and my community, I kind of arrived here out of financial necessity.  And time spent here has been good, but I am also blessed that I love to spend time with my family, every one of them.  They are all people  I would choose to spend time with, lots of time. Instead, it’s  been limited to a week here and there while on vacation, a reunion every few years, sometimes a holiday celebrated together.  I am ready to choose a closer connection.

That being said, I don’t really know where I’ll be a year from now.  Hey, but until I’m ready to do it, I don’t have to worry about where I’m going.  I just have to get ready to go somewhere.  The husband and I have made great progress toward this – at least I’m proud of us. Every week we get rid of some of our “stuff” that would not be worth taking with us.  We are both thinking about our present jobs and how our work would continue in a different place.  I jumped the hurdle of signing up for my social security benefits yesterday (believe me, it was a mental/emotional HURDLE).  I am scaling back on commitments I make and not jumping into new ones.  I am waiting to see what God will do with my readiness.  And there is a peace in not knowing the timing but just doing one thing at a time as the possibilities become apparent.

steps toward change
steps toward change

 

A to Z Challenge: Zenaida

ShirleyjdietzLeave a comment

I met her several years ago because her son was needing help with his English schoolwork.  I was a tutor for the “No Child Left Behind” program and arrived at their home one day after school to spend some time meeting the family and assessing exactly what was needed.  Our friendship went from being centered on her son to food rather quickly.  She was always cooking something in large quantities and urging me to take some.  She packaged hot meals and sold them to workers at her husband’s workplace.  

She and her husband were Hispanic and back in Mexico she had gotten a degree in Accounting, I think, but that didn’t count for much here in the States.  She did whatever she could find to do in between her children’s school schedules. Her husband worked in construction but this was in 2008 and Florida’s economy was taking a hit.  They were barely making their house payments, but they had their own place. It was clean and neat.  

Our friendship deepened later on. Hispanic women (and men) have a thing for fragrance and Zenaida signed up with me to sell cosmetics and perfume.  We marketed together, got dressed up and went to sales meetings.  Later still, when my daughter needed an extra hand in her house-cleaning business, I suggested she try Zenaida and it was a good suggestion.  The clients loved her integrity and work ethic.  When my daughter moved on to vet school, Zenaida inherited her business.  

Zenaida is still the friend who shows up at birthday parties and graduations with a full tray of home cooked tamales (my daughter’s favorite). She still wants to help with my cleaning and yard work and is the hardest one to take any pay for her work. She just wants to be a friend, and she is.  And her name begins with Z (for which I am thankful). 

Zenaida is a common name for women in several cultures and is also the name given to the Zenaida dove which is our mourning dove.