Okay ladies and gentlemen, if you are looking for a serious writing for today’s blog, you are going to be sorely disappointed. This is going to be random facts about me you may or may not know and may or may not care about! You see, I think we so often get caught up in the seriousness of life and the “perfect” personna we try to present to the outside world, we fail to be real. Quite honestly, since all of the hoopla surrounding the election and General Petraeus’s indescretions, I needed a break from serious. So here goes…
I HATED school as a child. For the first four years, Mom literally had to drag me kicking and screaming to class. Now, this is not something I am particularly proud of, but I was a worrier. It was so bad that I developed a double ulcer at the age of seven! What does one have to worry about when he or she is seven years old and has a loving family and good life? Who knows, but it seems to come quite naturally for me. I am learning, however, that worrying is a waste of time, and 99% of what we worry about never even takes place.
When I was four, I buried my brand-new favorite pair of paten leather Easter shoes in the garden because I thought I could grow more shoes just like them. Unfortunately, the dog dug them up never to be seen again. I learned it is not smart to plant shoes.
At the age of eight my goal was to grow up to be the drummer in a band…not a high school band…a rock band. Okay, maybe not a hard rock band. I wanted to be like Karen Carpenter, the drummer for the Carpenters, so Santa brought me a drum set complete with Karen and all of her brothers’ pictures on the bass drum. (I was soooo cool!) I learned that while Karen was a talented musician who paved the way for future female drummers, a set of drums in the hands of an eight year old girl mainly serves to irritate anyone within hearing range.
My favorite toy as a little girl was a toy truck (my grandpa Hood really, really wanted a grandson 🙂 I learned that girls could drive a truck as well as boys!
In my early twenties I turned down the offer to go with a friend to hear an upcoming singer/songwriter who had a few good songs being played on a local radio station. He was going to be playing at a small venue near Tyler, Texas where I lived at the time. I had no idea who this guy was, and I declined because I wanted to just go home from work and crash on the couch. My friend came to work the next day with a signed Polaroid picture of her and this handsome new singer. His name? George Strait. I learned it is quite possible to kick yourself in the rear end.
In my mid-thirties my hair started turning this strange white color, so I decided to add blonde highlights to my naturally dark hair in order to cover the gray. Over time my hair became more and more blonde until there was no brunette left. Several years later having moved to a place where no one had known me as a brunette, I decided to go back to dark hair. I cannot tell you how many people told me how I needed to go back to my “natural” blonde color. I learned that people’s view of what is “natural” and “real” is often skewed.
In my late 30’s I met this guy. We watched each other from afar for over three years until we finally got up the courage to talk to each other instead of being together in a crowd and talking around each other. This was a pretty special guy, and he made me laugh.We genuinely enjoyed being together, and we soon learned what had begun as friendship had grown into love. I learned to let go, to risk, and to love again – and I married him!
In my late forties I became a grandmother for the very first time. I was not prepared for the overwhelming emotion accompanying this turn of events. I was so in love with this little boy who suddenly appeared in our lives taking our hearts hostage. A couple of years later, a sweet little granddaughter arrived,and the love just grew. This past year another precious little man joined us bringing further joy and love to our growing family of grandbabies. I learned there is no control over how much love one’s heart feels for grandbabies. It is a wonderfully uncontrollable love that knows no bounds.
In my early fifties, I watched my Dad, the spiritual, emotional leader of my extended family fight a strong battle against cancer. Along with my brother and sisters, I had the honor of helping to take care of Dad and Mom’s needs after they spent a lifetime of loving and taking care of ours. I was able to say goodbye to him before he went home to be with the Lord. I witnessed and experienced God’s grace during the time surrounding the loss of my Dad, then I watched God strengthen and enable my Mom to move forward and bravely face a new life on her own. I watched her faith carry her with peace and joy despite her grief. I learned that even during pain and hardship, life is rich, and full, and good.
Okay, so I did get a little serious, but that is really okay. Serious, funny, weird, difficult, it is all part of being honest and real. I’ve learned it’s all part of life. A really, really good life. I’m looking forward to see what I do and what I learn in the years ahead.