Booming Voices and What Comes Next?

Standing in front of the railroad tracks that are down at the beach near my home, I often take the moment or two in which I am forced to stop in my own tracks to feel the absolute force of the passing train and then I think about God or my children or my husband and sometimes rarely, about myself, and I pray. I do not usually use any formal version of prayer but more of a conversational tone with God asking Him to watch over, to guide, to consider, and most importantly, to protect.  I never ask for anything tangible.  No cars or cash prizes or anything that my husband and I do not earn.  No, to me there are much, much more important reasons to talk to God and I would never want to waste His time with stuff.  That is what Santa Claus or the Tooth Fairy or our Fairy Godmothers are for, cash prizes, shiny new cars and stuff.  I do not often get any answers but there are times when I walk away feeling heard, even acknowledged and yet, how would I even know whether or not I was actually acknowledged.  It isn't as if God really speaks out loud in a booming voice.(At least to me, He doesn't.  Now Moses might have been a very different story.)

A decade ago on July 9, I turned 40 years old which means that I am now 50.(Glad that I did the math for you?)  So many things have happened over the past decade since that wonderful surprise party that Mark threw for me for my fortieth birthday.  We have had four daughters graduate from High School and so far, one from college with honors.  We celebrated with great joy as each of our youngest three daughters became Bat Mitzvahs and young women in the eyes of our congregation.  My beloved grandmother passed away on my birthday at the strong age of ninety one years old and I lost my younger brother, my only sibling, at the far too young age of forty one years young, to sudden heart failure and heart ache.  I(temporarily) lost my beautiful nieces to a woman who is supposed to care for them based upon their best interests.  We made our way through the terrible maze of the family court system with my sister-in-law and we found out just how many rights that I do not have as the only living sibling of a dead brother/father.  We found a loop-hole in the law that saved us from salt in a gaping wound and left my SIL wondering whether or not it was honestly worth over $100,000 to hold a grudge against people who she supposedly cared for at some point in time.  I watched as my parents mourned the death of their only son in very different ways.  We made a drastic life-altering change in homes, moving down to the beach where my soul can really breathe.  We hunted for sea glass as I hunted for peace.  I faced the reality that this illness may never again, head back into remission and I came to terms with that.  My family struggled as they came to terms with the same illness.  I watched as my daughters acted in commercials and danced, created photographic brilliance for magazines and created beautiful pieces of clothing from almost nothing.  I sat back and whispered prayers for my daughters as they experienced break-ups, heart ache and independence.  We traveled and stayed put.  I lost some friends on purpose and gently let some go when our friendships no longer served either one of us.  I made some wonderful connections with the most unlikely of individuals.  I kept myself sane with the assistance of my therapist who is really just a friend that I pay to listen to me while I work out my own stuff.  I helped two babies leave the nest while almost dreading the day when the next two must take off too.  I clung tightly to my oldest friend and shared in the joy of her amazing grandbabies!  My marriage became an even more valuable entity in my life and my husband, an even better best friend.  So much has happened during the decade between my fortieth and fiftieth years and truthfully I cannot say that this has been the best ten years of my life.  I readily admit that the last decade has been hard, very, very hard.  I mean, raising four teenage daughters at one time was a feat in itself, but now I know and I recognize the "stages" as they do surely come and the blows are definitely much softer.  I have experienced some of the worst that there is(and some of the best) and I have come out stronger on the other side.  I also know what I now must do as I enter into the next decade of my life.  No more hiding behind my jobs as a wife and a mother, although those are the two most important jobs that I could ever hold in any lifetime and they will always be my jobs.  But there is some clarity and freedom in knowing that I have accomplished the job of being a good mother which is something that I wanted to do, craved doing, since the day that I could first push my first baby doll around in a toy stroller.  And although the past decade of that job has been the toughest, there is no place else that I would rather have been because I got to do it with the most incredible husband and the most wonderful children.  Maybe these fantastic people are the biggest answers to my conversations with God.  Maybe they are living, breathing, booming voice examples as to how God feels about me and maybe, just maybe, the language that God uses with me is just a different language than what I might expect.

Birthdays are a contemplative time for me and this one certainly more so than 99.9% of the forty nine others that I have been lucky enough to celebrate.  For some reason though, 50 feels like an achievement to me.  I feel like having lived for a half of a century gives me some credibility that I was not as secure in before and now, I can own it all.  From the wonderful to the not so wonderful, there is a strength of will that has developed in me throughout the course of my years and I feel very centered in that strength.  I am not at all sure where the next ten years of my life will lead, but I do know this.  It is time for me to learn more about who I am as a woman, as an individual and as a student of life.  I am not used to being in the forefront of my own life so the vantage point from here is a little bit scary, but I do know that it is time.  It is time for me to face the possibilities with strength and fortitude.  Maybe the difficulties which seemed to come one after the other after the other over the course of my forties were meant to set me up with a new kind of steadiness for the decade to come.  I do know that we are never immune from the painful or the difficult or the formidable but maybe now, things won't take the same toll on me as they once did.  I am looking forward to this next phase of my life.  And maybe the next time that the train speeds past me down at the beach, I will converse with God a little bit more about myself. I will ask Him, "What next?"  And maybe, being more familiar with the language that He has shared with me for most of my life, it will be easier to hear the answers and I will feel confident in what  will come next.

Senior Prom, Sunshine and Standards

You are my sunshine,

my golden sunshine.

You make me happy,

when skies are grey.

You'll never know dear,

how much I love you.

Please don't take

my sunshine

away.

I have been singing this song to my youngest Angel Daughter since the very day that she was born and as she got older, she began singing it to me, as well.  Maybe it was because this child was born with a particularly sunshiny disposition.(She sparkles when she smiles.)  With each one of my girls, I have special songs, sayings, or inside giggles that only we share with one another which has created very special bonds in the relationships within our relationships.  This actually makes quite a bit of sense when I think about it as every positive relationship in our lives contain special nuances that make each singular relationship unique.  It isn't really something that we set out to do.  When a bond is created, it is something that simply just seems to happen.  It is kind of like when a cricket rubs it's legs together to create a unique song.  Each relationship fosters it's own distinctive music.  Each relationship is extraordinary.  That is the way it is meant to be when done well.

Angel Daughter Number Four attended her Senior Prom last weekend.  I cannot believe that we have now experienced four of these momentous occasions.  I carry within my heart, memories of each one of these very beautiful days all very different while my feelings were so much the same with each one.  Another step closer to graduation.  Another step closer toward growth and independence.  Another view of my daughters as women.  Senior Prom does this.  It makes you look at your child through a very grown-up lens because, well, they look so grown up in their formal dresses and suits.  It can be a very sobering experience for a parent who really does not feel much older than the day that their child was born(all of us), but who is suddenly standing there wondering when their baby grew up.  Sunrise, sunset...

Hugs...

Gratitude...(look at those shoes!)

Laughter...

Posing...

More laughter...

And her favorite guy in the world.

As we followed the girls up the very steep hill to take pictures, my husband trailed protectively behind our daughter to make sure that she didn't fall back on those crazy heels.  When she chose the gorgeous Ralph Lauren sequined navy gown to wear to her prom, I was very impressed as were the saleswomen who sold it to us.  Angel Daughter Number Four is obviously an individual who honors personal style and this gown was a bit more refined than what I expected her to select.  We found it only a few days before prom, and the saleswomen almost had tears in their eyes.  They told me about the "apron"(meaning the sides were cut out like a full-length apron with a bib on top but nothing underneath) dresses that some girls were picking out which left absolutely little to the imagination.(They said that they had sold hundreds!)  They told me about the proud parents who came in with their daughters and with tears in their own eyes, stood there and told their barely dressed daughters with breasts lifted up way past decency how beautiful they looked and what a perfect choice they had made.  I am not at all sure where these parents expect their daughters to go from there, but that would not have made it past me or my husband.  So, when AD4 came home with the very trendy spike-covered heels the next day,  to wear with her gown, I was pleased as punch.  Pleased to know that she was still being true to her own individual style and pleased to know that she would look like the beautiful eighteen year old young lady that she is.

As I watched her walk gingerly up the hill under the safe guidance of her father's hand ready to catch her at any moment if she stumbled, I thought about how this is one of the many ways in which I see him as a father.  This is how our girls see him.  As a protective force, always ready to catch them if they begin to stumble.

Soon after we arrived at the top of the hill, we noticed a stray piece of thread that was hanging off of the hem of AD4's gown.  When Mark leaned down to detach the stray piece of string from her dress, AD4 giggled through one of her sparkling, sunshiny smiles as her friends looked on and my heart caught in my throat.  This is one of the moments that I will carry in my heart's memory when I recall the Senior Prom of our youngest Angel Daughter.  My man, their father, who continues to set a wonderful, shining example of how a man should treat a woman, this is what they should wait for.  I pray, with all of my heart, that this is something that they will look for in the husbands that they will someday choose for themselves.  I hope that along with all of the lessons that have stuck and unstuck and sort of stuck up until this time, this one, this very important ideal, will hold a standard to which all of our daughters will strive for.  Wait for it, girls.  There are men out there who know how to be a man.    Settle for nothing less.  It is what you each deserve.

The Other Side of Angels or Why the (most days)?

*a tiny bit PG

It usually begins like this.  Momma asks very, very, very nicely to take a picture of her four Angel Daughters together.  Then they moan and complain about having to stand still for more than ten seconds while Mom checks the viewfinder to make sure that everyone is behaving appropriately and that there's no funny business going on.

Then, the funny business begins.

And mysteriously travels from one Angel Daughter to the next, causing Momma to twitch involuntarily while trying to keep the camera still.

Next, the huddle.  This is when a language, which is only understood by sisters, is spoken and a plan is conceived.

Laughter ensues and even though I know that I have reached the point of no return, I plead with them to just pose for one more picture!

More sisterly giggling as they prepare to unleash their sinister plan.

I only had a younger brother so I am not necessarily privy to the devious minds of sisters.  The worst thing that my brother would do would be to make bunny ears behind my head, or refuse to stand within several feet of me because of the cootie possibility.  But sisters, they are definitely a different progeny.

They are willing to unite forces in order to witness Momma's hair turning grey right before their very eyes.

But this is when a moment of madness turns into a secret deepening of love in my heart disguised as exasperation.  Because I know that they love each other so much.  And I know that they speak a special language that only four united souls will ever truly understand.  And I also know, that they are sometimes willing to share that language with me in order to "let me in".

Four Angels Momma(most days).  This is my life and I would not have it any other way.

Mi Familia

This little angel girl celebrated her second birthday this past weekend.  She is the granddaughter of one of my oldest and dearest friends.  And since our children have always called her and her husband, Aunt Donna and Uncle Keith, and their children have always called us Auntie Deb and Uncle Mark, that makes me a great-auntie!  This is a job that I take very seriously, so when I received an email from Donna inviting us to celebrate great-angel niece number one's second birthday at Disneyland, I rounded up my crew of angels and off we went!  Since we live a state away, we don't always get to see each other as much as we would like to, but several times a year, this very loud, very rambunctious group joins forces to share as much joy and love as we can muster.  Great-Angel Niece Number One is the latest addition to our boisterous bunch!

The cutest thing was that as soon as the cake with the candles arrived and the Birthday song had been sung, Great-Angel Niece Number One knew just what to do.  She took a deep breath and blew...

And blew...

Until the two little candles on her cake went out.  The look on her adorable face...Priceless.

Jasmine stopped by to sign G-ANiece1's little autograph book.

Then they posed for a picture together.  Aren't they beautiful?!?!?

Dale of Chip and Dale stopped by to say hello.  Angel Daughter Number One patiently posed for a picture for her momma, as Joey poked fun at her.  Goofy got revenge on him later by marrying him to his new girlfriend.

Great-Angel Niece Number One's mommy and daddy had the best time.  I still cannot believe that they are parents.  The time, oh, where does the time go?

Angel Daughter Number Three posed demurely for a picture with Aladdin.  Too cute!

Goofy was the star.  He made us all laugh with his silly antics.  Here are three of my angel daughters with Goofy.  Unfortunately, AD2 was too busy at school, so she was not able to join us:(  We missed her very much.

Donna and Keith have been gracious enough to open their home and their hearts to foster children.  Lina, this beautiful little sweetie is two years old.  She has been with them for a couple of months and will hopefully be reunified with her own momma within the next six months.  AD1 really took to her.  They spent a lot of time playing and snuggling with each other.  I just know that whenever AD1 becomes a mommy, she will be such a great one.(But we can wait a few years for that:))

AD4 and GAN1 love playing with each other.  When GAN1 was born, AD4 just loved to sit and hold her.

Here are most of the girls, and Minnie Mouse.(AD4 is missing from the picture.)  There were several different cameras going at the same time which explains why we are looking in different directions.  On the left are Donna(middle), her two daughters and Great-Angel Niece Number One.(Her mommy is on the left.)  Next to Minnie is Donna's son's girlfriend, Angel Daughter Number Three, Me, AD1 and baby Lina.  We had a wonderful visit and I cannot wait to see them again in a month for their second daughter's wedding!

Last night, I made dinner for my family and a couple of AD2's old high school friends who I adore.  AD3 and her boyfriend, Jacob, usually make funny faces at me when I try to take their picture.  I can tell that Jacob really wants to make a face at me here, but he is being a good boy!

We had a really nice time with these silly kids!  I love a noisy dinner table with lots of laughter and conversation.  The more friends, the better.

Angel Daughter Number Two made it down from Pasadena for dinner.  These guys have been friends for years.  Chelsea is such a sweet girl.  Blake and AD2 have been very good friends since middle school.  Last night he told us that he signed up for The Navy Seals and will be leaving in September for Chicago to begin his training.  He is signed up for six years.  I pray for his safety and his strength.  He is such a wonderful young man and we will miss him very much.  So many brave young men and women volunteer to serve our country.  Two others that I know are Nessie's son, Michael and Hallie's son, CJ.  Their service and dedication to this country should be admired and appreciated.

After dinner, the kids played with our giant pup, Micah, on the floor.  He truly is a gentle boy.  There is nothing that he likes better than to be the center of attention.  He LOVES his people so much that you can just see it in his expressive eyes.  People say that he was very lucky to be rescued and adopted by our family, but WE are the lucky ones to have him as a part of our pack.  He is such a good boy.

As I sit here reflecting on the lovely weekend that we had and how much I love all of these people, I am reminded that the word "family" does not always have to mean those who are connected by a bloodline. For me, it has come to include people whom I have grown to love over the years.  People who are there for the good times and the bad.  In sickness and in health...Hey, that's sort of like a marriage.  We can choose the person who we would like to spend the rest of our life with and they become family to us.  To me, I chose my own sister when I was twelve years old.  She is not my sister by birth, but my sister by choice and through it all, Donna, her husband Keith(who I have also known since high school) and her children and grandchildren ARE family to us.  Donna and I grew up together and now we will grow old together.  And as the sun sets on this beautiful day, my heart is filled with the knowing...

Out of the Mouths of Teenagers

Being a full-time mother for nearly twenty-two years has taken my life through a constant maze of both confidence and apprehension.  Some days I feel as if I am almost getting this job right, and then the next day will be wrought with some unexpected hormonal crisis(theirs or sometimes mine, if I am to be honest) which will set me off-balance for a short while.  Like no other job in the world, motherhood will humble you down to the soles of your feet or lift you up higher than the ever-present mommy clip that you use to keep your hair from getting in your eyes.  It's just never certain when the highs or lows will occur, or what might send your heart reeling with absolute emotion.

A few days ago, my littlest Angel Daughter called me on the phone when she was at home and I was still at our beach house.  We talked and laughed in only the way that mothers and daughters can, and then she told me that she had written another poem.  This young girl, with the dancing spirit, can also write the most heartfelt and honest poems that I have ever encountered from someone so young.  At fifteen, a very difficult age for most, Angel Daughter Number Four expresses herself through both movement and word.  My father, her pop-pop, used to call her "the great observer" because as the youngest of four daughters, she would sit quietly absorbing everything that was going on around her.  She observed for quite some time and then she began using what she took in to become an outgoing and unique spirit.  In the past several years, I have watched this little girl grow into an amazing young lady who is wise beyond her fifteen years.  Yet, she is still a very typical fifteen year old who must assert her upcoming independence by letting her dad and I know that she is growing up.

So, as AD4 told me about her poem, she set it up by recalling a memory that had popped into her mind.  When our girls were younger and they were preparing, one after the other, to become a Bat Mitzvah, each one had to go through years of study in order to reach this joyous milestone.  As a result, we spent a lot of time in synagogue both on holidays and for Friday night Sabbath services.  It was a very cozy time in our lives when the girls were still young and family took precedence over all else.  For me, those years were more about the feelings that being a close family unit evoked, and not so much about the words.  And yet, I am sometimes awed by the descriptions that my Angel Daughters can attach to a certain memory.  AD4 asked me if I recalled how she would often lean up against my body during temple services.  She then told me that as she would rest up against my body, she would listen to my voice as it reverberated throughout my body and into hers.  Like in many religious services, the leader(in our case the rabbi or the cantor) prays or sings while the congregation participates by also praying or singing out loud.  AD4 described to me how my praying voice was something that she enjoyed listening to because it was very different from my "regular" voice.  As she described her experience to me, I got chills.  So many thoughts raced through my heart and my mind.  I wondered if the voice that she had leaned up against me to hear in synagogue to pray, was somehow the voice that she had remembered from a much earlier time.  A time when she was snugly ensconced so safely within my womb.  Could every word have sounded like a prayer to her?
As she read her poem to me, it was like a prayer reverberating throughout her body and into mine.  It wasn't so much the words that I heard(although they were beautiful), but the voice that she used when she spoke them to me.

Three of my youngest Angels are well into their teen years now.  My oldest is going to be twenty-two in about three weeks.  As they continue to grow up into the beautiful young women that they will be, I hope to hear more of their feelings put into words.  I understand that I have several more uncertain years as my girls continue to strive for independence fostered out of interdependence.  But as I continue on my journey through the maze of motherhood, I will try to remember that sometimes words actually sound like prayers when they are coming from a place that is rooted and deep and strange, but familiar.  Oh how familiar.

Chasing Seagulls

Having teenagers and a twenty-something means having children who have lives of their own.  My younger two Angels, ages fourteen and sixteen, are still caught between the simplicity of childhood and the complexities of turning the corner into adulthood.  Honestly, I love to observe the young women that they are all becoming but it is also very hard on me at times, to accept that there are things that they would sometimes rather do than hang around with their dear old mom.  We have always been a very close-knit family that enjoys spending time with one another.  Yet even after having experienced the "separation phase" between the teenage years and young adulthood twice before, I still find it somewhat jarring when my daughters enter into that period of their lives.  And although I know that it is entirely healthy and necessary for parents and children to separate from each other, my soul sometimes still longs for the days when I had four little ducklings living at home in the nest.

Today, Mark and I decided that we would go for a walk on the beach to hunt for sea glass.  With my illness, it is very easy for me to isolate myself inside of the house, but since we started spending our weekends at the beach, I just cannot justify not getting out into the salty sea air.  The pull of the ocean beckons to me like an old friend and I must do all that I can to motivate my achy body into getting the heck OUT of the house.  I suppose this is one of the many reasons that I decided to begin collecting sea glass.  It wasn't something that I knew anything about, nor was it anything that I had ever done before, but one day something from within my spirit told me that I needed to start hunting for sea glass.(Might it have been one of those quiet God Whispers?)  Mark has been a VERY good sport about my treasure hunts.  Not only does he sometimes accompany me, but he searches for sea glass as well.  This is one of the many, many reasons I love him even more than I did twenty-eight years ago.  He never questions my creative endeavors.  He compliments me and encourages me to do the things that call out to my spirit.  He is all man, yet he has no problem combing the beach for dainty little pieces of sea glass.

Today we decided to recruit our two youngest Angels to join us on our hunt.  They were a bit reluctant at first, but finally agreed to come along.  There are always lots of Seagulls on the beach and when I spotted them, I told the girls to do something that I might not normally suggest.(I love animals and feel bad about disturbing them, especially when I'm infringing on their territory.)
I told them to chase the Seagulls!
And the ten year old Angels in them came bounding forth as they sprung into action.
There they were, chasing the birds until the birds turned around and decided to show them whose territory they were messing around on!  The joy, the laughter, the camaraderie of sisters came charging forward.  How easy and natural it was for them to revert back into being the silly little care-free girls that they were, only a few short years ago.
Pure, unadulterated JOY!  They laughed, I laughed, Mark laughed.  I think I might have even heard the Seagulls laughing.
Watching them run across the beach made me realize that part of my job as their mother, no matter how old they get, is to always remind them of the children that they once were.  And part of my purpose as a woman, is to remind myself to honor the child who was once me.  We all need to play more.  A life that is too serious is a life that has become devoid of joy.

May you remind yourself and those you love, that running, laughing and playing are just as important as getting that laundry done, those bills paid, that room cleaned, etc.  May you think about the things that brought you joy as a child and find out if maybe, just maybe, those things might be worth another look.