Reacting or Creating?

The same eight letters...A, C, E, G, I, N, R and T...but what a difference the arrangement can make!

My whole life has been one of reacting. I've even described myself as a leaf in a mountain stream: taken where the flow goes, no direction of my own, stuck behind a boulder until the current is strong enough to free me and send me on downstream. Of course, I can tell you why I think this is my modus operandi, but ultimately everyone has a story and what difference does it make. I would just be telling you my excuse. This is not to say that I thought of myself as a victim, for I did/do not. It is more a case in inertia than a case of being thwarted. The only thwarting going on is internal!

"We are the only species on Earth capable of preventing

our own flowering." David Whyte

The inertia is the result of not having a strong sense of my purpose, having no goals, having no plan of action with stops along the way, a roadmap created to get me from short term to mid-range to long term milestones. Procrastination can be a very real component to reacting...if you are always waiting, you are always delaying, putting off action. In one of Paul Chek's lectures, which you can find at www.chekinstitute.com, he talks about procrastination as being the handmaiden of a life without goals. Paul says that, without a purpose and a plan to achieve the goals that enable that purpose to be fulfilled, it is easy to procrastinate. You truly have no place to go so nothing is of the utmost importance and distractions can easily determine what your day looks like. We all have the same amount of time at our disposal...the difference is in how we structure and use that time.

"Know what turns you on so you can have lots of it in your life."

Sas Colby

Reacting is passive. Creating is active.

Creating is knowing what you want to accomplish and having a framework within which to work to achieve fruition. That is not to say that people who react don't have creative thoughts...that's what daydreaming is all about. And daydreaming is not wasted time; it is often the seminal seed of all accomplishments. But having a good thought and manifesting that into a good thing are not the same.

Creating is taking the daydream, seeing in your mind's eye how it would look in real life, listing all the steps that must be made in so that a concept can become a concrete thing, and having a time table, marking what needs to be done by when.

"Your vision of where or who you want to be is the greatest asset

you have. Without having a goal, it's difficult to score."

Paul Arden

How can you change from reacting to creating? First, want to! Second, set that as a goal for yourself. Third, determine the date by which the change will have taken place. Fourth, map out activities that take you from your current mind set to the one you are erecting in its place. Fifth, stretch your talents and skills to cross the chasm that presents itself as the impossible task at hand. Sixth, leap. Leap and the net will appear.

Lastly, share your goal and your plan with someone who wants you to succeed and has good ideas he or she is willing to bring to your table. To paraphrase the Bard, nothing is impossible but that thinking makes it so.

Create the life you wish to live by the actions you take every day.

"When you follow your bliss...doors will open where you would not have

thought there would be doors, and where there wouldn't be a door for

anyone else." Joseph Campbell

My goal is to achieve my human potential. Every day will have a structure to it: study - exercise - work with clients - do the 'grunt' work that is required to run a business - continue to explore my emotional/mental memes to see if they serve me - meditate - get coaching help if I need it. Structure my day so that I can be spontaneous in my life!

"The soul speaks in image." Carl Jung

CAN I GET A WITNESS...

...or, more precisely, can I become a witness?

Witness: (noun) -a close observer...(verb) -perceive

I'm not talking about seeing an accident or testifying in court. When I speak of becoming a witness, I am referring to a sober contemplation of an event or act or thought without judgement. I believe it is important to be able to do this not only for others, but especially for ourselves.

As we learn to become a witness for others and to our own lives, we learn to see, but not to judge...not to judge ourselves.

Our acts are no longer viewed as 'should have, could have, would have', but as did or is...no value is placed on the act. It is simply a fact. There is a quiet that comes from this simple shift. We do not invest things with hurt, anger, resentment, sadness, envy or hatred because we have stopped critiquing things. This does not mean that we are removed from life or distant emotionally. I think it allows us to invest in things more fully, without the filters that are placed over our senses by the subjectivism of individual bias.

I think that is what Bryon Katie means when she talks about "loving what is".

When we can love what is, we are not mired in the past, not shackled by judgements of ourselves by ourselves or by others. We are free to observe and plow ahead. We don't have to sugar-coat, rationalize, fantasize anything because we accept everything.

And simply do our best at whatever level that is at that moment in time.

As I witness my life in this way, I become accountable for it.

A STATE OF BECOMING

My favorite boutique flower shop sells Chrysalis every year...

...little pots of nature's jewelry and her promise. Each cocoon holds a butterfly in the stage between larva and adult. Housed safely in a celadon green case sealed with several gold "dots", the insect waits, biding it's time, until it is ready to emerge and become what it is destined to be.

When the chrysalis begins to turn black, you know that the process of '"becoming" is nearing its end. Once totally black, the butterfly sheds the cocoon and rests for up to six hours, drying its wings. Until the wings are completely dry, the butterfly can't fly. Patience is required, for to try to fly too soon would mean disaster and death.

In order for the insect to become the butterfly, this glorious home must be utterly destroyed. As with so much in life, in order to transcend to a higher level, there must be a destruction of what came before. From the ashes, emerges the Phoenix. This transformation, whether in the insect world or our own, is often violent, gut-wrenching. But the cocoon no longer serves the butterfly as it once did the insect. There is wisdom in knowing when to move on...to spread one's wings...to fly.

Trust in the process.

COULD IT REALLY BE THIS SIMPLE?

Every Sunday, the Dallas Morning News runs a short piece called "Good Kid". The blurb spotlights a high school junior or senior - sometimes a college freshman - who is just what the title would imply: a kid doing well in school, active in the community at large, and an all-around shining light.

Some of the questions asked are about hobbies, favorite school subject, two people they want to meet, best book read, best advice received, what they would do with $100 and "my goal for this year is to...".

On July 4, 2010 a recent graduate of The Greenhill School in Dallas wrote that her goal for the year is to..."continue to be happy."

Wow!

When I first read that, I thought it sounded sophomoric - every one wants to be happy, right -but, as I let the simplicity of her words sink in, I realized she had distilled the essence of life into five words..."to continue to be happy."

"Children smile 400 times a day on average...adults 15 times.

Children laugh 150 times a day...adults 6 times per day.

Children play between 4-6 hours a day...adults only 20 minutes

a day.

What's happened?"

Robert Holden (from 'Living Wonderfully')

What has happened?

As we grow up and grow older, does life beat us down so much that we lose the capacity for happiness? Or do we not truly understand what our purpose is in this life?

Objectivism is the philosophy created by the Russian-American philosopher and novelist Ayn Rand (1905-1982). Rand originally expressed her philosophical ideas in her novels 'The Fountainhead' and 'Atlas Shrugged'. The name "Objectivism" derives from the principle that human knowledge and values are objective: they are not created by the thoughts one has, but are determined by the nature of reality, to be discovered by man's mind. Ayn Rand characterized Objectivism as "a philosophy for living on earth", grounded in reality, and aimed at defining man's nature and the nature of the world in which he lives. She wrote, "My philosophy, in essence, is the concept of man as a heroic being, with his own happiness as the moral purpose of his life."

What if the 'hero's journey' of each life is to be happy? If it really is that simple, a lot of us are wasting time and energy on stuff that does not matter one bit.

"We either make ourselves happy or miserable. The amount

of work is the same."

Carlos Castaneda (1925-1998)

American writer and Nagual (Shaman)

"People are usually as happy as they make up their minds to be."

Abraham Lincolm

"If you cannot find happiness along the road, you will not find it

at the end of the road."

Writer Unknown

'Siddhartha" is an allegorical novel by Hermann Hesse that deals with the spiritual journey of a wealthy Indian boy during the time of the Buddha. What strikes me about his journey is that by being so focused on what he was determined to find at the end, Siddhartha missed all the serendipitous beauty en route. I sometimes feel that is what contemporary man does in his life...we are so focused on attaining whatever we have placed on high that our tunnel-vision limits our joy in the everyday. The best things in life aren't things, but it would seem that we are driven to attain more and more with less happiness being the result of a frantic need to fill the void.

I write and ponder about 'happiness' quite often...I see so little of it on the faces and in the lives of people all around me. I want more of it in my own life...if happiness truly is a choice we make, why would I choose to be unhappy? Maybe I don't think I deserve to be happy.

"You cannot be thankful and unhappy at the same time."

Writer Unknown

The mind, a wonderful thing, cannot hold two different thoughts at the same time...so we must train our mind to go to a powerfully happy thought when it wants to take us in a different direction. We are the master of our thoughts; we should not let our thoughts become the master of us. But, oh how difficult that is for so many. Creating any habit, positive or negative, requires repetition. In order for a motor engram (a series of processes or commands associated with any given cognitive goal or task) to be created, there must be repetitive stimuli. It takes 300 to 350 reps to build one in the body. It may take three times that many reps to change. Contrasted with a motor engram, the Psychoneurological engram (as described by L. Ron Hubbard) is a mental image or picture of an experience, usually unhappy. stored in the subconscious mind. In order to create positive, loving, happy engrams we have to deal with and change the negative, unloving, sad ones we carry inside us.

"By remaining stuck in the power of our wounds, we block our

own transformation."

Caroline Myss

"Who would we be without our story?"

Byron Katie

Everyone has a story and everyone has been hurt. Get over it.

How do we do that?

I have gratitude as an attitude...maybe not 100% of the time, but pretty darn close. No matter how awful I may think a thing is in my life, I can name 5 to 10 things that are blessings. By the way, blessings is not a word that falls easily from my lips. I struggle with that concept: perhaps 'gifts' would be a better choice. Whatever word you choose, there are things in your life that bring you joy, make you laugh, create beauty, are filled with love, mean kindness to you. These things are often not the big, splashy things, but the small wonders...

...puppy breath, a sticky kiss from a child, the coolness of an evening breeze, a call from a friend when you are feeling blue, the warm rays of the sun as you lie on a chaise, the beauty of a freshly planted flower garden, getting into a bed with fresh linens, rack of lamb roasted just right, the crunch of cool jicama, a gluten-free macaroon, your child telling you she loves you. saying something that gives a person hope.

I don't expect life to be perfect. I expect to be given ample opportunity to learn lessons I am supposed to learn while I'm here. How fast or slow I learn is up to me. The Universe will never give up on me...it continues to present me with the chance to grow and continue along my path. I try not to beat myself up when I realize that I haven't quite gotten a lesson down pat. That is what 'practice' is all about. I do the best I can. Some days, my best is better than other days!

I have never given up on myself. The human spirit it a miraculous thing. So is resilience and I have that, too. I have taken some circuitous routes, but I have never given up on myself.

I have decided that my legacy is to just be happy. If I was supposed to be a Mother Teresa, I would probably be that by now! Legacy and purpose don't have to be such big concepts that you think they are too big to have in your own life. Purpose is what gives meaning to you in your life. Legacy is a gift you leave for others. The best thing I could do at this point in my life is to show my daughter that creating happiness for myself, from out of myself and not as a result of something someone else does or doesn't do, is huge and can have a ripple effect on everyone I come in contact with each day.

What have I got to lose?

"To get up each morning with the resolve to be happy...is to set our

own conditions to the events of each day. To do this is to condition

circumstances instead of being conditioned by them."

Ralph Waldo Emerson

So thank you, Mary Horn, a "good kid" with the right idea!

RUSSIAN BANYA - A Day in a Traditional Russian Sauna

"The banya is like the Russian's second mother", wrote Pushkin in 1832. Though it may sound like hyperbole, the banya has been a staple of Russian culture and health since medieval times. Every village had at least one banya serving not only as a center for cleanliness and bathing, but for magic and folklore. There was even a mischievous little sprite associated with the banya call a mystical "Bannik", the guardian of steam and heat, the caretaker of the sauna and its participants. In order to appease the sprite, the bather had to enter clean and leave the same way. So developed the etiquette for bathers.

Dallas has an authentic Russian banya. The facility also has a Finnish sauna (dry heat), a steam room (Hammam) and a cold plunge pool (ice and dunk tank). There is a restaurant, men's and women's locker rooms and a small store, which sells the traditional birch bundles (more about this later) and Russian felt sauna hats in two styles, one for the guys and one for the gals. These hats are worn in the banya, protecting the top of the head and the ears from the intense heat.

One Sunday, I went with two friends to see what this was all about!

No frills, no deluxe amenities: this is a pretty spartan, bare-bones facility. When we arrived, there were several men and one lady sitting around one of the tables, drinking water and talking. The men, as we later learned, were spending the day...sauna, banya, cold plunge, sit and drink water and talk and then start all over again. We had been told to bring a bathing suit, but were given a robe, towel and flip-flops (we asked if we could wear our own and we could). The robes looked as though they were an after-thought; they had seen better days. The good news is that I did not feel compelled to purchase one to have at home. Towels are much the same: white, beige, worn. No linen envy on my part!

A bit of a tour and short explanation followed. We had scheduled a Venik Massage and were told a bit, not much, about that. If you wanted a traditional massage (I'm not sure what a traditional Russian massage would be), that had to be arranged with an off-site person who would come to the banya for that purpose.

So into the locker room, into our bathing suits, and into the Finnish sauna we went. Hot, but comfortably so, I could have stayed and stayed. The three of us talked for some time, broke a good sweat and then the door opened and the gentleman scheduled to give us our Venik Massages came into the sauna to give a bit more detail about that treatment. He suggested we go into the banya to feel the heat and said that he would do one massage at a time, but that the other two were free to stay and watch, if desired.

Robes back on, we walked across the narrow hall and went into the banya. The woman and most of the men were there and it was hot! My concern was how long the massage would last and if I could last for the duration in this intense heat. Our masseur was a man of medium height, quite tan and with a large belly. He was wrapped in a long blue and white striped towel and spoke with a "Boris and Natasha" (from Bullwinkle) accent. In fact, we nicknamed his Boris. Strong, like bull, Boris!

We stayed in the banya for a few minutes and then went back into the Finnish sauna to visit and enjoy the milder heat. As suggested, we went to our table in the main room and drank water. Boris came and said he was ready for the first massage. He had told us that our bathing suits, being synthetic, were not appropriate for the cleansing of the Venik Massage and that it would be better if we wore nothing. When in Rome...actually, in what spa do you wear clothes? None.

First victim! Andrea came back out several minutes later (maybe fifteen), red as a beet and was instructed to immediately immerse herself in the cold plunge. Boris, sensing her reluctance, exhorted her until, screaming, she did so. She came to the table and drank water, as instructed. Lots of color to her skin, some mottling, but whether due to the cold plunge or the Venik Massage, it was hard to tell.

Lyn was next. Same routine. Red as borscht, wahoo-ing as she went into the cold plunge and then back to the table for water and note comparing with Andrea. Boris, who wears the felt hat with ear flaps and heavy gloves, said that he needed to take a breather and wanted to wait a bit before he went back in to do my massage. Also, the men had gone back into the banya and he wanted them to complete their stay before he and I went in.

Maybe twenty or thirty minutes passed before it was my turn. So in we went. Towels are placed on the wood bench of the second of three levels in the banya. It is entirely too hot to be on the wood without some protection. Boris asked me to lie on my stomach first, but let me explain what the Venik Massage is all about.

Venik Massage is a traditional Slavic experience, also called "platza massage" or a "shvitz massage". A venik is a bundle of birch, oak or eucalyptus branches bound together. The bundle is repeatedly soaked in cold water to soften the leaves without making them drop from the branches. Then the venik is soaked in very hot water to release the oils in the leaves and branches. In the banya, the venik is placed in a container of hot water. Once you are on your stomach, the masseur takes the bundle out of the water and shakes it over your body so that the oils drop on your skin. The bundle is massaged over your body, pressed into your skin, and then you are hit with the bundle in various places (unless you have been very, very good). This is done back and front and then back again. All of this takes place in about fifteen minutes.

Boris then asked if I was ready to leave and, with bits of venik stuck to my skin, I wrapped my towel around me and headed for the plunge. I was expecting the water to be unbearably cold, but it was quite pleasurable. While icy to the touch when we first put a hand in at the beginning of our tour, after being in the banya, the water was delightful, refreshing, rather than shocking.

Back to the table, told to drink lots of water (this I think for their sense of protection since it is not actually a traditional sauna practice), Boris said we might feel sleepy for a bit. The treatment was something I will probably do again, now that I know what it is all about.

Once home, I made a bit of lunch and, overcome with tiredness, went to bed for about two hours. Boris was right.

All that was missing from my Russian experience at the banya was a gypsy with a brown bear on a chain.

HONEY, WHAT YOU'RE LOOKING FOR AIN'T IN NO REFRIGERATOR!

Food has so many emotional connotations for us.

In the beginning, food was one of the instant gratifications received when we cried at the top of our lungs. It not only nourished our little bodies, but gave us emotional sustenance as well: whether nursed or bottle-fed, we were held, close in our mother's arms, warm, secure, loved.

As we grew, food was a part of family celebrations. What was our birthday without cake and ice cream? Who could have Thanksgiving without dressing, cranberries, and pumpkin pie? Christmas without all the trimmings (and I'm not talking twinkle lights here)? Impossible! We were usually rewarded with food: a 'treat' for being good or for making good grades. I remember getting suckers after visits to the Doctor's office. Food to calm or quiet us; they don't call it 'comfort food' for nothing. Homemade ice cream in the summer...helping Grandmother roll out dough for homemade noodles...waiting for the leftover bits of pie crust to come out of the oven, all covered with sugar and cinnamon, on the days Mom baked. And think about what we do as grown-ups when we want to get together with friends...we go to dinner or have a dinner party. We socialize around eating.

Food is emotionally charged!

For many of us, that means we use food as a tool for problem solving, as a coping mechanism, as a way to deal with tiredness, stress, sadness, anger, loneliness. We do this because our history growing up has taught us that food means love and approval.

Our use of food for other purposes than nutrition and fuel is usually not conscious. We may reach for the chocolate kiss because that is what our daddy would give us every time he came home from a business trip. Maybe our drama coach reward edus with lemon drops after a particularly good rehearsal. The whole team would go for burgers, fries and a shake after winning a game. So when we are down, feeling depressed or unloved, we love ourselves in a way that replicates the feelings we had back then...we are not consciously remembering the specific event, just the way certain foods make us feel.

But afterwards, it usually doesn't feel very good, especially if we are struggling with weight or health issues. We feel guilty...that we have no will-power...that we are failures...afraid for our future wellness. And once the taste of that favorite food is gone, we don't even feel loved.

Intellectually, we know that eating is not a solution to the emotional void we might be trying to fill as we fill (stuff?) our stomachs. What is?

We have to be gutsy enough to be able to sit with our feelings without rushing out to fix anything. John McMullin, a wonderful man and gifted Holistic Coach (www.JourneysofWisdom.com) offered this in a workshop: you do not do a suffering person a favor by trying to take away their pain. It is hubris to believe that we are going to fix them by rushing in and offering a pat on the back, a 'there, there' or a shoulder to cry on. So it should be with our own suffering.

A close acquaintance told me this story. After his daughter committed suicide, he was overcome, more than usual, by a grief and sadness so intense he could hardly breathe. He went to his counselor, as he had many times during his healing process. After describing the depth of his despair, the counselor offered an exercise. "When this feeling of abysmal grief comes to you, stop and take a breath. Say to yourself, 'So this is how it feels to be utterly grief stricken.' Let the feeling have a place. Do not try to banish it. Sit with your sadness." My friend told me he did that many times in the course of his recovery. And it worked for him. On a much less traumatic level, I have practiced this exercise in my own life. It has a remarkable power to calm the most hysterical emotions, to dry tears, to create a stillness - the eye of the storm, if you will. Peace is the result. There is something very powerful and healing about acknowledging an emotion you would just as soon not have to experience.

First rule: don't rush in to fix what is causing you pain. Allow it to have a place (it's going to make one for itself anyway). Say to yourself so this is how it feels to be alone...whatever you are feeling. Allow yourself to feel how alone feels. Trying to cover up the feeling with chocolate or whatever your comfort food might be has never made the feelings go away for good in the past. And you know what? Feeling alone is not going to kill you. Being sad is not the end of you. Feeling that no one loves you is not the end of the world and can you be absolutely certain of the truth of that feeling? Not absolutely.

Second rule: be the kind of person you would want to be with. If energy draws to it like energy, be the brightest star in the firmament. Sure, you may have 10 things that are not great in your life, but there is at least one thing that is beautiful...think of that one beautiful thing. Our minds can only hold one thought at a time: we cannot be both happy and miserable. When your mind takes you to a dark place, have ready the one thought that is the opposite of what took you there and think it, out loud if you have to. I have said a positive affirmation over and over again through tears until I was able to calm down, see the truth and good in my life. If you become the type of person you would want to spend time with, you are the lucky one because who spends more time with you than you! Then anyone who comes into your life is a welcome addition, not a can't-live-without-you necessity.

Third rule: know that you are enough. It is hard for me to believe that a divine creator or a divine intelligence would send any of us here for a purpose and then send us here flawed, without the tools to accomplish the job. The 'taming' process (how we are socialized by parents and institutions) makes us feel that something is missing in us...don't do that, that's not right, don't embarass me, this is the way you should act. We are so young while all this instruction is taking place that it is easy for us to feel that something is wrong with us. Listen to that still, small voice inside you that whispers you are perfect just the way you are. There is a wonderful quote: "There are cracks in everything. That's how the light gets in." That is also how our light gets out. Revel in knowing you are enough, just as you are.

So don't be afraid of pain and sadness. "Things don't happen to us, they happen for us," says Byron Katie. Use every event as an opportunity for growth. Learn so you might be able to hold out a hand to help someone struggling with something you have already experienced.

Decide what kind of person you wish to be. The choice is yours...to be happy or to be sad. If you truly believe it is a choice, why would you choose to be miserable? Become the person you wish you were...or as the old joke goes, become the person your dog thinks you are! If you have to, fake it 'til you make it.

Love yourself. You weren't sent here lacking. Don't let yourself be defined by what you believe others think of you. Define yourself by what gives you joy and a sense of purpose.

Love, peace, joy, fulfillment? You need only look in the mirror...

...not in the refrigerator.

MOTHER

Our mother loves us before she ever lays eyes on us. Then she spends her whole life showing us what love is...how to love, how to be loved.

She teaches us how the world should be, while preparing us to live in the world as it is.

She maintains a haven for us, should we ever need one, while instilling in us the courage to leave her.

Losing a mother is a difficult thing.

My mother died 15 years ago this August. These words were not written for her, but were part of a letter of condolence to a friend who had just lost her mother. I would not have written this about my own mother, but felt that my friend believed she had a mother for whom this should have been written. These thoughts were most likely what I wanted to believe motherhood was...what I hoped I would be able to do for my daughter as her mother...what I had wished for in a mother.

What a shame there weren't for my mom.

There is an exercise in Paul Chek's PPS Program that asks what lessons one has learned from one's parents. My first response was that my mother had taught me nothing. But, of course, that isn't true.

It's a fact that I never learned to cook or clean house from her; she felt that if she had to ask or make me do chores, it wasn't the type of experience she wanted either of us to have.

The lesson for me was never ask for help...and, if you do ask and help doesn't come right then or if the answer is no, never ask for help from that person again.

What a lost opportunity for me and for the other person, who might have genuinely wanted to help, but couldn't within my constraints of now! This is still a challenge for me, asking for help. But by not doing so, I might be depriving another person of the opportunity to feel they are doing something good and loving for me.

My mother was not very disciplined with her time or her health. She could get lost in music or painting for hours and then forget to eat, throwing her brittle diabetes into a tail spin.

I have been an undisciplined person, procrastinating, choosing immediate gratification over the long term goal most of the time.

But when my mother lost an arm and shoulder to a rare form of cancer, she taught herself to write with her non-dominant hand, to play the piano, to paint again, to balance her body weight without a part of her body...lessons in discipline and fortitude. She had passion for those things she loved, that brought her joy and she fought fiercely to be able to continue them in spite of her physical limitations and constant phantom limb pain.

My mother was outwardly cold, undemonstrative. Her one lesson about sex was when she told me that "rubbers squeak".

To this day, I don't know if she was talking about condoms or rain boots! So I was quite naive about sex, the opposite sex, a healthy sexual appetite, how to have rhythm and flow in my life.

My mother was actually a passionate, sexual woman who had been hurt and felt the only way she could protect herself was to turn a part of herself off. I have tried to protect myself from emotional pain by withdrawing a part of myself from life; it doesn't work. And you miss out on so much along the way. I now know that I would rather cry from having something not work out than from the regret of never having tried.

My mother had a gift for making a home out any place we lived. We moved every year at Christmas from the time I was in first grade until I was in the ninth grade...no we were not gypsies or in the witness protection program! Whether it was a basement apartment in Russell, Kansas or a rent house in Paul's Valley, Oklahoma or our own home in Midland, Texas, within days of moving in, drapes were up, pictures hung, books in the bookshelves...everything in its proper place so that there was continuity and a sense of home, even though she knew we would be leaving in less than a year.

I have created a home that is a haven for me, filled with things and colors that sooth me and bring me joy. But I never felt I had any roots...I was never from any place. I can't tell you what little podunk town I was in for third grade, don't remember the name of my best friend in fourth grade, can't tell you the name of one school I went to until I was in high school. I was adamant that my daughter have the opportunity to be in one school all the way from kindergarten through high school, if that was her desire.

What I never considered was the cost to mother in this nomadic way of life. She also had to leave friends each time we moved. It was her job to set up our new home. She did this every time without complaint and with love for me and my step-dad. I don't know if I could pull that off.

As Mother's Day approaches, I can see my mother through different eyes than even several years ago. The last year of her life, a gift was given me: the opportunity to care for her as she went through radiation for Non-Hotchkins Lymphoma. She and I mended some fences, actually kissed for the first time in our lives - she told me she had never kissed her mother or father - and I allowed her to be human, not holding her to such an unattainable standard of perfection because I didn't feel she loved me and my hurt had turned to anger. I am still grateful for that gift.

So, Happy Mother's Day, mama.

Losing a mother IS a difficult thing

And rubbers don't squeak!