I love the Dayquil commercials that feature moms and dads reluctantly asking their children for a sick day knowing that moms and dads never really get to rest. It is a given of existence that we must eventually accept certain responsibilities as we become adults. I assumed the caretaker role early in life. When my father died I was only eight but still old enough to realize just how difficult it was going to be for my mother to be a single parent. I quietly did my best to lift some of her burdens from her shoulders. I quickly learned how to be mature when I really wanted to be wild and crazy. I forced my personality to change so that my mother might have one less thing about which to worry. As the eldest child and a woman I honed the skills that would define me at a much earlier age than I might otherwise have done.
I learned how to be a woman in an era of great change. My female role models would become outdated even before I was an adult. The women whom I knew were from a time that was rapidly becoming old fashioned but I learned much from them. They built their worlds around their husbands and their children, often sacrificing their own desires for the good of the family. They arose early each morning to begin their endless chores. Their homes were orderly and well run. They kept to rigorous schedules for cleaning, cooking, and watching over their babies. Perhaps some of them felt trapped but I honestly never saw any of that. The ladies that I knew were quite content to do the jobs that they associated with being successful women. Continue reading “Seasons of Our Lives”
I’ve seen many a Christmas, sixty eight of them in fact. I was barely a month old that first year but it still counts. My mother lovingly recorded a list of the gifts that Santa and friends brought to me. Unfortunately I don’t recall much of that first holiday so well. Over the years however I’ve had some wonderful times with truly remarkable people. There’s no Scrooge in my world even though my husband, Mike, likes to pretend that he’s a distant relative of old Ebenezer or Mr. Grinch. That’s just his impish nature coming out. He does like to tease and enjoy a good laugh. He get’s that from his father, but I digress.
I have somehow been blessed with friends who are so outstanding that they both amaze and humble me. Among them are true warriors for justice and compassion, leaders who make the world a better place. They are rarely content to simply exist, they make a genuine difference wherever they may go. One such person is Aimee Harriramani who is celebrating the achievement of a grand dream on this very day. This morning she will graduate from Baylor College of Medicine as a Physician’s Assistant. Her journey has been hard fought as she balanced family responsibilities and studies with her usual determination and aplomb.
For most of my adult life my mornings were spent rushing around in the dark attempting to hit the roadways before the traffic built up so badly that I would be late for work. I never had the luxury of sitting at my kitchen table eating a nice warm breakfast while reading my newspaper as is depicted in so many images of American life. I regularly subscribed to the Houston Post and eventually the Houston Chronicle but rarely had time to even move either of them from the driveway much less peruse their pages. I ate my morning meal inside my car and got my news from the radio. 
It’s another stormy morning and as the rain comes down I find myself feeling pensive. It’s been a quiet week after my vacation. I came home tired from the long drive and never really got back into the routine of things because I was almost immediately scheduled to visit my oral surgeon to have my implant set in place. I spent time catching up on some phone calls that I had been unable to make in the mountains. One of them was to my cousin who had suddenly and tragically lost her nephew in an accident. Her beloved Chris and his wife had gone on their dream trip to the Florida Keys. One moment they were joyfully riding on a rented scooter and the next they were hit head on by the driver of a Ford Explorer. The young man died instantly. His wife was sent to the hospital in critical condition. When the calls came to the family back here in Houston there was a sense of disbelief, as though it was all somehow a terrible mistake. 
All It Takes Is A Little Love 