Values

Yesterday I wrote about the antics of my dad and my uncle, and after reading that story, my cousin, Tim and I spoke about some of the stories we knew about my aunts, one of whom is his grandmother, Laura. After hearing the things he told me, I feel like I know a lot more about my aunts, and I am very proud of both.

My aunts, uncle and my dad were young when our country was in the grip of World War II, and being patriotic people who wanted to help in any way they could, my aunts decided to join the mobilization effort by signing up for jobs in the shipyards in Superior, Wisconsin. Feelings were very raw at that time because people felt betrayed by the administration…betrayed and unprotected. But feelings aside, they stepped up and took on a man sized job. My aunts worked in those shipyards as welders on the ships. It was in the dead of winter, and the winters in Superior are bitterly cold. They feared for their health, and it was due to those frigid winter days, that they both decided that Wisconsin was not where they would want to spend their lives. Both would move to Washington state, and Aunt Laura would finally end up in Oregon. She would later say living out there was like living in the tropics by comparison. Eventually a sign was posted to commend the work of the many women who joined that movement, but they erred in calling them “Riveters” because they did not rivet the ships, they welded them, and that was a much harder job. Our Uncle Bill hated that error, and tried to get the sign changed, and after failing to get anyone to move on the correction, corrected it himself, because he has always paid close attention to detail and hates seeing an error go uncorrected, especially such an important historic event as the women of World War II who were heros in every sense of the word.

This is a part of my aunts lives that I had no idea had occured, and I truly thank my cousin Tim for sharing it. You see, this picture of my aunts is very foreign to me. My Aunt Laura was always an elegant lady, with a beautiful home, which I can still see in my mind to this day. She had so many beautiful and I’m sure precious things. My Aunt Ruth was a little more of a tomboyish person who liked the outdoors, but a welder…no…I could never have pictured it in either of them. They were two women, in a difficult time, who stepped up and did more than they knew they could. And I am very proud of both of them.

I did get a small glimpse of that toughness in my Aunt Laura one time, when she had just purchased a mobile home and while it was set up that Friday night long ago, the electricity would not be turned on until the next morning, and it was a bitterly cold winter night here. I insisted that she come and stay at my house that night, which she graciously accepted. Bob was working nights, so we had a little slumber party at my house…just us girls. We had such a wonderful time, and my Aunt Laura got to experience something that she really never would any other time in her life…little girls. You see she had sons, grandsons, and a great grandson…no girls. She had a great time with my daughters, and they thoroughly enjoyed playing with her. It was a treat for all of us, and a night I will always treasure.

While traveling in California, I noticed one particular tree. Now, I know that is odd considering the vast number and distinct types of trees in California. We were on our way to the Redwoods, but this was a little fir tree of some type. I’m sure many people would have considered it insignificant, and even weird, but it got me thinking. The tree was full and well shaped, but sticking out all over it were dead branches, from some event that happened to it. But this little tree had persevered and was coming back. The dead branches were simply battle scars from its fight for survival.

The reason this particular tree got me thinking is that it reminded me of many people around us. People who have been down a tough road, and with the scars to prove it, but through hard work and perseverance, they are still alive…still moving on…still living life. They are coming back from their battle, and working on being, at least to a degree, the person they were before.

So often we look at people who have bee through it, and decide that they have let themselves go, when in reality, maybe they have been through it, but they haven’t let themselves go, rather they are fighting their way back. Every person is beautiful in their own way, just like that little tree. Sure, there are some rough edges, and a few battle scars, but the tree was lush and green around all those dead branches, quite unique. I didn’t take a picture of that tree, and have regretted that, because I looked and looked for another, and found none. It was unique, and it was alone in its look, and that was why it was so special.

I have been thinking about a situation that happened to me a few years ago, and while I have moved on, the shock of what happened still comes to mind sometimes. A good friend of mine passed away, and left some things to me and several other people in her will. Now, I know that many people would think that the only thing I care about is the things, but that is the least of it. In fact the things mean very little in the scheme of things. What brought this to mind again is the trip we made to visit her grave, which we do as often as we go to Reno.

What has bothered me over the years is that her children, chose to keep everything, and not honor her will at all. It was such a selfish act, and not because of the things, but because her final wishes were not honored. Oh, I’m sure they thought that they just couldn’t part with their mother’s things, but they didn’t belong to them. They stole from their mother!! Stole her right to have one final say in her own life. Stole her right to leave a bit of herself to her special, beloved friends. And, they stole their own peace of mind, because I know that every time I see one of them, she quickly looks away, because she feels guilt.

My friend had given me other things through the years, you see, she was an artist, but she told me that I was to have my choice of her paintings when she passed away. I knew it was in the will several years before she died. And it was brought up by her daughter right after she passed, but then it was dropped. There were some paintings that so reminded me of her sweet spirit, but I would never have deprived her daughters of all the paintings. We could have easily come to a workable agreement, but I was never given the chance to be generous toward her children. I received occasional correspondence from the attorney, who told me that there was nothing he could do about their refusal to honor the will, but nothing more. I don’t think of myself as a greedy person, but I do feel awful because my friend was robbed of her final say. She had been so happy when she told me she had put in her will to give me the paintings.

I just can’t believe people could be so cold, as to steal from the dead! It doesn’t matter, I suppose. At least not to them. But think of how they would feel if their children did that to them. It puts it in a very different light, doesn’t it. Please, when your loved one makes a will, do the honorable thing…honor their wishes.

Lately I have been thinking about what my life is all about. What my goals are. What my purpose is. When I leave here, I don’t want to think that I didn’t really do much with my life. I want to know that because I was here, someone had a better life. That something I did changed a bad situation to a good one. That someone’s life was easier because of me. I don’t want to think that every part of my life was spent selfishly on my own desires. I don’t want everything I do to be about me, but rather I want it to be about what I contributed. Don’t you want to feel that way too? I read a poem recently written by a fourteen year old boy with amazing insight. It went like this:

It was spring but it was summer I wanted; the warm days and the great outdoors.
It was summer but it was fall I wanted; the colorful leaves and the cool dry air.
It was fall but it was winter I wanted; the beautiful snow and the joy of the holiday season.
It was now winter but it was spring I wanted; the warmth and blossoming of nature.
I was a child but it was adulthood I wanted; the freedom and the respect.
I was twenty but it was thirty I wanted; to be mature and sophisticated.
I was middle-aged but it was twenty I wanted; the youth and the free spirit.
I was retired but it was middle-age that I wanted; the presence of mind without limitations.
My life was over but I never got what I wanted.

How often does this play out in real life? Well more than we think would be my guess. When we are always waiting for the next big event to come along, we miss the here and now. We really need to live our lives on purpose. Decide what we want our life to be about and focus on that goal, doing the things that it takes to get to that goal. I don’t mean to say that we need to always be driven, but if we can look beyond the desire for the dramatic that occupies our minds, and try to make a difference each day, then maybe our lives will be something we can be proud of when they are over.

I was thinking tonight about the next generation. Oh, I know, everyone thinks I’m going to complain about their dress, or attitude, or some other such thing, and while I would agree that those things can be annoying sometimes, that isn’t what I’m thinking about tonight. What came to my mind is the simple fact that at some point we will be passing the baton to this next generation.

Many people would cringe at the very thought, and when I think about some of the kids I see, I might have a tendency to join them in that. But we really can’t judge the kids by what they are today, because tomorrow, when responsibility hits them full force, they will change in a moment, just like we did. There isn’t one adult today, who can honestly say that their parents liked the way they dressed, the music they listened to, or the friends they had. They might have liked some things, but not all. And what parent hasn’t made mention of the dreaded next generation and scowled.

Well, just as we were that dreaded next generation and we changed into the establishment of today, so they will become the establishment of tomorrow, and they will look at their children and their friends as the next generation. And they will hope that as they changed into responsible adults, their kids will do the same.

As we did, most kids will grow into responsible adults. If we can instill in them the values we were raised with, and couple that with love and a respect for their feelings, most kids will blossom into adults that we can be very proud of. Kids are looking for approval…from someone. Now I don’t say to pretend that you love their clothes or music or attitude, but when they do something worthy of praise, don’t forget to praise them for it. If you don’t give positive reinforcement, they will act out to get your attention. We can’t be absent from their childhood and expect them to be great adults. We must love and encourage our kids, and most importantly keep their lives in prayer, because that is the most important thing we can do for them.

Have you ever noticed that when you don’t think you like someone, even if you don’t really know them, your thoughts constantly fall in the realm of the negative? And the more negative thoughts you think toward them, the more you don’t like them. And not only that, but the more you think those negative thoughts, the more the person actually becomes like your thoughts. It’s hard to explain how that could happen, but I’m sure it has something to do with how those thoughts transfer into our attitude, our conversation, and if that isn’t enough, they keep us thinking more negative thoughts toward that person. Pretty soon the relationship is beyond repair.

This same scenario can play out in the lives of our children if we are not careful. Children can be frustrating at any age, and when we think angry thoughts toward them concerning their rebellious ways, and those thoughts turn to feelings that we display toward our children, they can begin to think that they never do anything right, or that we hate them or are disappointed in them. So they can rebel further, and a cycle begins to take shape. Sometimes kids think they can’t ever please us, so why try.

I don’t mean to say than we shouldn’t discipline our kids. They need rules and limits, and it would be wrong not give them these things. But once we have done so don’t think harsh thoughts about them. Think good thoughts about them again. They will know that you love them and are proud of them, in spite of their mistakes.

When I was a young girl, I dreamed of the things I would do and the places I would go when I got older. At one time I thought I would move to Germany, and while there, I was going to marry a German man and live happily ever after. I discovered the German language in junior high school, fell in love with the country and I still love it today. Well, part of the dream came true. Bob comes from a strong German background, and we have lived happily ever after. As to moving away, well that didn’t happen.

Bob and I have both lived here since we were very young, and after marriage, we have stayed right in the same town. He had a good job, and our families were here, so we just never moved away. As the years went quickly by, the kids grew up and had families and stayed right here. We would never want to leave the kids and grandkids. Then our parents were suddenly older, and we were needed to help them. The time to move away…well, it became just a distant memory.

I suppose many people would think I missed out on a lot by living in the same place as I grew up. By never moving away and living somewhere exciting. But, while my life might seem boring to some, I have had the benefit of a close family. My mother was born here, and spent all her life here except the first five years of her marriage. Her family have all lived here except for a couple of them who lived away for short periods of time. See, I bowl with my cousins. My family has a family Christmas party every year, and we have to rent a hall to hold us all. My boss says I’m related to half the town, and he might not be far off. Many of my clients are relatives. I work with my daughter and granddaughter. I attend the sporting events of my grandsons. It takes three rows of chairs to hold our family at church on Sundays. I might run into my family at the mall or Walmart. Many of my friends on Facebook are relatives. And, my sisters are some of my best friends.

Yes, my life has been spent surrounded by family in one form or another. I grew up around grandparents, parents, sisters, brothers-in-law, nieces, nephews, aunts, uncles, and cousins, and I wouldn’t change that for the world. I guess some people would think that boring, but there is something to be said for knowing what is going on in your family’s life. Something to be said for getting to know the babies, and knowing your grandparents through the years. Something to be said for being there for the good times and the bad times. Something to be said for being where you are needed. Yes, some people would say I have really missed out on life, but to that I would have to say, “I haven’t missed a thing. I have been blessed with the best life there is. A life of contentment, knowing right where I belong.”

Valentine’s Day is here. It is a day dedicated to love, and in my opinion, that is a wonderful thing. Where would our world be without love. When we think of love, we think romance, but love takes in so much more than that. Of course, we love our spouses or significant others, children, other family members and friends, but I wonder if our world would be a little better place if we could expand that some.

Have you ever thought of a day where people are kind to each other? A day of smiling at the people you pass on the street. A day where we don’t scream at every person involved in every annoying situation that goes on. Wouldn’t it be great to have a day, in which love really was the rule of the day?

I know Valentine’s Day is really about romantic love, and that is beautiful. But beyond Valentine’s Day, maybe we could all try to show a little more love and kindness to those around us, and maybe it could make our world a little better place to be…one random act of kindness at a time.

In a world filled with reasons to rush here and there, we seldom have the time to see what is really important. Most families have no choice but to have two incomes, meaning many parents can’t attend many events that their children are involved in. Children are coming home to an empty house and no supervision. Homework gets pushed to later in the day, especially if parental help is needed at all, because by the time the parents get home, get dinner made, and get started helping with homework, it is almost time for bed.

Where did the day go? And for that matter, when you think about it, the weeks and years seem to fly by. Before we know it, our children are grown up, and we find out that we have missed all those precious years. And the sad thing is that there often isn’t any solution to it. Parents can’t make ends meet without two incomes, and times are tough. And so the important things must once again be pushed to the background, so we can make enough to support our families.

So, is there a solution? Probably not entirely, but if we do our best to find a way to make as many moments as possible, we will find that we aren’t missing out on as much as before. There is a song by George Strait that goes like this, “Life’s not the breaths you take but the moments that take your breath away.” It is about doing your best not to miss the important moments. Make as many games as you can. Go to their concerts. Make the moments you can make, so they know that when you can’t make an event, it isn’t because you don’t want to be there.

I went shopping at Walmart on Saturday, and after loading our groceries into our car, I went to put the cart in the cart station. As usual, there were a number of carts jammed in there in such an unruly manner that the station was half full. I pushed the carts into the proper order, leaving room for lots more carts. All in all, the process took me less than a minute, but if each of us would take a minute to straighten these carts, it makes the job of the people who collect the carts easier, and leaves more room to get the carts out of the parking lot.

Have you ever had your car hit by a cart in the parking lot? Carts that are put in the cart stations are far less likely to be blown across the parking lot and into your car. And yet, all over the parking lot you will see perfectly healthy people who are too lazy to walk their cart to the cart station, so they just leave it beside a car thinking, someone else will put it away. Why is that someone else’s job? Shouldn’t the person who used the cart have the decency to put it away?

Another place that the public could do a better job of doing their part is in the public restroom. Have you ever noticed how after some people wash their hands, they leave water all over the counter, wad up their paper towel and toss it in the direction of the waste basket…usually missing, and walk out leaving a horrible mess that not only has to be cleaned up by some poor soul, but makes it hard for the next patron to even think about going near the sink. It only takes a minute to wipe up any water you spill and make sure your paper towel actually makes it to the waste basket. Is that really so hard?

I guess what I’m saying here, is when did we all become so “special” that we couldn’t “lower” ourselves to clean up our own messes? Most of us were taught to clean up our own messes, but somehow we think that job belongs to someone else. How would we feel if we were that “someone else”? Would we like to clean up some of the messes we leave? I don’t think so. Everyone’s job is easier, if we all just do our part.

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