Fly To The Tree

If we fly to the tree are we searching for something?

If we fly to the tree are we seeking a new point of view?

If we fly to the tree do we want to be alone?

If we fly to the tree are we taking a risk?

If we fly to the tree are we searching for guidance?

If we fly to the tree do we ignore what our feet tread upon daily?

If we fly to the tree are we escaping the truth?

If we fly to the tree do we dare ourselves to be brave?

If we fly to the tree do we need to hear the wind?

If we fly to the tree do we hold on tight?

If we fly to the tree do we become who we’re meant to be?

Why do you fly to the tree?

And I Thought I Was The Teacher

I have two amazing children.  They never cease to amaze me with their beautiful minds and spirits.  As their mother, I want nothing but the best for them and try to teach them all the things that are important in life.  Knowing how to cook a few meals, how to change the sheets on their bed, how to wash their baseball and cub scout uniform, how to fill the car with gas, how to make friends, how to study for a test, how to drive (not quite ready for this one, but it’s coming) to name a few, but the list goes on and on.  

The one thing I didn’t count on when I became a mother, was how much I would learn from them. I think as a mother, we have this notion that we have so much to offer our children; our mistakes and what we learned from them, our love, our life experiences.  We bring that baby home from the hospital nervous, yet we’re filled with all the things we plan to teach them and share with them.  Mother School doesn’t mention all the benefits they will provide you and all the life lessons they will end up teaching you. My boys have taught me a thing or two.

They’ve taught me….

…that sometimes plans change and you have to go with the flow.

…that they worry about us like we worry about them.

…that just because I like peanut butter and jelly doesn’t mean they will (neither does).

…that sometimes it’s easier to talk to your friends about certain things than your parents.

…that being in your pajamas all day doesn’t make you lazy.

…to not assume to know what they’re thinking, because it’s usually wrong.

…that having your picture taken all the time isn’t always a good thing.

…it’s ok to sit in your room by yourself and just be.

…that I’m not always right.

…to understand that their point of view is just as valid as mine.

…that it’s ok to apologize even though I’m the mom.

…that they really do hear me when I speak to them.

…to be patient.

…to appreciate their differences.

…that sometimes hand-me-downs aren’t as cool as they once might have been.

They are the rubies in my crown.  They are the sprinkles on my cupcake.  

They make me laugh and they make me proud to say I’m their mom (mommy to one still).  I love all they’ve taught me and am certain this is only the beginning of many lessons to come.  And I thought I was the teacher.

Trusting Today - Faithful Today

When you have one of those moments, it’s yours to keep forever.  I wish I could bottle it up and keep it in a special place and open it up any time I needed it.

I had one of those moments this morning.

We, as I know so many of you do as well, have very busy calendars and most months, it looks like graffiti on the fridge with all the reminders for cub scouts, basketball practice, play practice, meetings, hockey travel, birthday parties, teaching days, homework projects, book club, dinner with friends.  Need I go on?   Let’s just say, to a new parent, it would be frightening to see.  

This year, I made a decision. I have given up any and all worries about our calendar.  I have told myself, that if it’s meant to be, then we’ll find a way to make it work.  The schedules will allow or not allow for it.   So far, (and I realize I have probably just jinxed any future cohesiveness) we have not had any scheduling problems.   Many would say this is luck, but I don’t really believe in luck.  I never have.  I believe this to be trust and faith in the bigger plan. 

So back to the "moment" today, I called for my oldest son’s basketball game schedule AND, it fits into the schedule.  Yes, it does.   That means he doesn’t have to miss any of his musical practices.  He’ll be able to attend the practice and then play the game.   Amazing.  Simply amazing.

Maybe it seems small in the scheme of the world, but for me, it’s huge.   You have no idea the stress I’ve put on myself over the last few years worrying about this very thing.   This year, I have given up the worry and have trusted that it will work out and look what happens when you trust and have faith.   No stress.  Busy people.  Happy people, but minus all the stress and worry.

The amazing peace that filled my entire being when I hung up the phone will be with me for the rest of my day.   Letting go of control can be very frightening, but exhilarating at the same time.  Today, it’s all about the exhilaration for me.   Trusting today.  Faithful today.

No Expiration Date

When we moved into our new home, one of the many things I was excited about was the fact that we would have room for an extra fridge in the garage.  I was thankful for the extra space and knew it would come in handy during the holidays with extra meals and in the summer for the popsicles and the extra milk that didn’t fit in the kitchen fridge.  Extra space is always a plus.

The other day, I thought I’d check to see if there was anything in the garage fridge that needed to go.   Low and behold, there was a gallon of milk with an expiration date of December 8th.  Ick.   I didn’t dare open it, but had to so I could recycle the container and not have sour milk in the trash for a week.   It had expired in so many ways.   I won’t tell you that there were little curds exiting the mouth of the container.  That wouldn’t be polite.

When you think about it, most things have an expiration date; cheese, milk, your warranty on the fridge, your unused gift cards, last year’s boots that aren’t in style anymore.  Most things expire.

However.

I found one thing yesterday that by the grace of God, had not expired.   A dear friend of mine from high school contacted me after twenty-five years (yes I realize this dates me, but I’m fine with that) and suggested we meet to catch up.  I couldn’t wait to see her.  I was giddy all week looking forward to our dinner and on the drive to meet her, I felt like a 10 year-old girl going to her first sleep-over.

After all this time, we talked for four hours straight and shared our life stories of college, marriage, children, work, friends, faith, books and so much more.  Our lives were so similar in so many ways. The part that caught me off guard was how easy it was to talk to her even though you would have thought our friendship had passed its expiration date after decades of being out of touch.  It was like craving a cold drink and then finding the last diet soda behind the salad bowl and jar of olives in the fridge and when you pull out the can, it’s still refreshing and quenches your thirst.   Our friendship felt as if it hadn’t expired at all.  

On the drive home, all I could think about was how wonderful it was to talk with her and how strong our relationship could be by now had we not lost touch.  It saddened me that so much time had slipped through us and can’t really say why.   We just drifted a bit and have now sailed right across each other’s path once again and it was so wonderful for lack of a better word.

I hope that we can continue where we left off last night and start making up for lost time with phone calls, letters and e-mails.  I would so enjoy that.  It’s nice to know that even though the extra gallons of milk in the fridge may expire, friendship never really does.

  

Squirrely

We saw him lying there in the snow. Stiff.  Cold. Dead.  How did it happen?  Was he out past curfew last night?  Did he look both ways before crossing?  Perhaps he was from California and not used to the cold.  However it happened, it happened.  Death is part of life.  The poor squirrel lay there in a pile of snow as if he was tired and decided to rest for a bit and never woke up. 

The boys in the neighborhood were very interested in the poor little guy and doorbells were ringing to share the news and to usher everyone out to gawk at the furry ice cube. When you have a neighborhood of boys 11-14 years old, a dead squirrel is pretty cool.  They checked him out from a distance. They wondered how he died.  They all wanted to see if he was “whole” but no one dared to touch him. (Thank God!)

After several minutes of pondering what to do, the decision was made to move the poor soul to the backyard for burial.  The shovel was picked up from the garage and my oldest was elected gravedigger.  They prodded him with the shovel and pushed him onto the cold metal and carried him to the backyard.  My son began to dig and once deep enough, he was laid to rest. (OK, they kind of kicked him in and used the shovel to push him the rest of the way into the hole.  Not quite as solemn as you’d hope.)

On their own, they all said something nice about him.

“He used to eat the apples off our tree.”

“He was a great squirrel.”

“He had pretty brown fur.”

“Let’s name him, Squirrely."

The burial was over, but the funeral wasn’t complete without a headstone.  My youngest pounded on the patio door and asked for a marker to write his name on the tree bark and stick they found for the headstone.  It reads, “In memory of Squirrely.”

I can only hope that Squirrely's parents or children can rest easy this evening as they stroll past the makeshift cemetery which now resides in our backyard.  He was loved (at least for 15 minutes) and in the end, his memory will go on forever with our children.  Rest in peace, Squirrely.