If You're Happy And You Know It ...

Tolstoy once said, "If you want to be happy, be".  For the longest time I used to ponder this statement, wondering how on earth the mere act of just being, could make one happy?  Some might say if I were a person facing a terminal illness, I would rejoice in the knowledge that I was alive.  The same might hold true for someone recovering from an addiction or a traumatic experience.  However, I can't help but wonder if my joy would be short lived once the reality of being terminally ill set in, or the temptation of my addiction, or the memories of my traumatic experience found their way back into my conscious memories.  So, what then did Tolstoy mean by saying, "If you want to be happy, be"?

I believe my Father holds the key to this quagmire.  As a younger man my Father worked hard.  He always put his faith and beliefs first, his wife second, and family next.  He never wavered in his priorities.  He worked hard to make sure he not only provided financially for the family, but that he lived in a way that would set the tone for the rest of the family.  He cared for my mother during each round in her fight with cancer.  He cared for my Grandmothers after their husbands passed away and they needed assistance with keeping up with their homes to ensure they could maintain their independence.  From the outside looking in one might think the additional responsibility my Father took on would be a burden.  Something to be "lived through" or "survived".  Yet with each passing year, no matter how old, how broken his judas of a body becomes, or how tired he is, my Father continues to rise to meet the challenges of providing for his family and caring for those he loves.

He uses the early hours when he cannot sleep to have coffee with his daughters, and now his grandchildren. He uses this time to listen to what is troubling them, to offer them advice, and to encourage them to live up to the greatness they were born for.  He uses his fun loving spirit to make those around him laugh and to pull the ties that bind us as a family closer together so that they are strong enough to outlive him.  It is through his constant love, his unwavering support, and his assistance when the family needs it the most that my Father finds great happiness. I say this not to bolster his ego, or to offer him up to be canonized as a saint (sorry Dad, I love you but I don't want your head to swell up too much).  More so I believe my Father is the living example of what Tolstoy meant.  To be happy, all my Father has to do is be.   It is in this way I hope to be most like my parents.  

Independent Woman

I have had a job my entire adult life.  From my mid twenties to my mid thirties I was what one might call a "corporate ladder climber".  My career came first and was only ahead of furthering my education to ensure I had the pedigree to continue to climb that proverbial ladder.  For many years I held a corporate career, was a wife, and a mother.  I was the primary income for my household and took great pride in what I had achieved.  Many people would look at my life and say I lived ideal life of the modern independent woman.

This past summer I had an interesting conversation with a close friend.  I was telling her that my husband and I decided to rearrange my schedule so I could be available to be home with our children after they were done with school.  My girlfriend looked at me and said, "Are you sure this is what you want?  To loose your independence?  To put your career on the back burner?"  At first I got riled up.  I kept thinking, she was right that I was giving up way too much to make this work.  I was part of the elite few who brought home a six figure salary before turning thirty and I was still under forty.  I was giving up my ability to be who I had worked so hard to be, independent! 

As the school year got closer, I became nervous.  I started to resent the choice I had made to rearrange my work schedule.  I felt panicked and started to plan out how I would tell my husband that this wasn't what I had wanted and we would have to put the kids into after school care.  I was dreading this conversation as I knew we had already discussed this in depth and decided it was the right choice as we both feel our priorities should be God, spouse, children, parents, family .... everything else, including my career.  

Before I realized it the school year had started and I had not had the conversation about reducing my work schedule with my husband.  I don't know if it was nerves, or anxiety, or what but I never found quite the right moment to disappoint my husband.  The first day I was scheduled to pick up the kids I found myself watching the clock.  2:15, 2:16, 2:17 ..... 2:30 ... ugh I have to go leave or I will be late.  Driving to the girls school I found myself praying to God to give me the patience to deal with snack time, homework questions, crazy noises, silly songs, and the "what's for dinner" borage.  I sat in the parking lot watching my ipad waiting for the kids to arrive.  The first one out of the door was our Lovely Lindsey Lu.  She ran to the car, all smiles and excited to be going home and not to after school care.  Next followed our teenage daughter Brea and she was VERY happy not to be going to after school care.  Niki was the last girl to arrive and she easy going but was happy to be able to get home for a snack.  We drove to their brothers school to pick him up and he was so excited to see his sisters he squealed with delight!  He jumped all the way to the car with excitement.  

At home everyone was excited to tell me about their day.  What they had learned, what their friends had done over the summer, how much they liked their teachers, and what they were doing with their friends this year.  Snack time came and went without a fuss.  I made dinner while the kids did their homework and asked me questions about their homework.  What I had thought would be overwhelming and awful turned out to be one of the most rewarding and wonderful days.

That night after I tucked Thomas into bed and the girls went home to their mother's house I started to realize. The dictionary defines independence as "not influenced or controlled by others in matters of opinion, conduct, etc., thinking or acting for oneself. Not dependent or contingent upon something else for existence".  To me this had meant I needed to be able to do it all on my own.  What I have come to realize is that true independence doesn't mean doing it all in spite of it all. Translation: by not working and focusing on my career I would lose my identity as an individual but rather that true independence is the ability to choose which one you want to do based on your guiding principals, your personal tenants, your morals and values.

It is in this time I realized that whether you work outside the home, or at home, you are contributing to the greater good of the world.  It is when the choice is taken away from us that we loose our independence.  Although my priorities had recently been refocused on my children and family, I was still independent, what I had learned to do was to be a good partner, a good team player.  In this I truly am becoming like my parents.

Mother T2

As I have grown into the person I am today one of the things my heart has been committed to is trying to always do what is right and what is kind, which isn't always the easiest most enjoyable route.  Especially when you have my parents who are good to the core.  My Father often refers to my Mother as Mother Teresa 2.  While he is being a bit cheeky when he says this, there is much truth to his loving nickname for my Mom.  

When I think of my Mother I think of the following quote from Mother Teresa, the original:

“People are often unreasonable and self-centered. Forgive them anyway.If you are kind, people may accuse you of ulterior motives. Be kind anyway. If you are honest, people may cheat you. Be honest anyway.If you find happiness, people may be jealous. Be happy anyway.The good you do today may be forgotten tomorrow. Do good anyway.Give the world the best you have and it may never be enough. Give your best anyway. For you see, in the end, it is between you and God. It was never between you and them anyway.” ― Mother Teresa

Until this week the words were just that, words said by a tremendously great woman.  In the same way my Mother lives her life always seemed aspirational but not real.  How can anyone live their life and truly care about each person they encounter?  To me both seemed lofty, dreamy, and beautiful but virtually impossible to live.

I have always been hesitant to get involved at our girls school.  The school is an ELS Lutheran school and I am a devout Roman Catholic. It is connected directly with the church their mother still attends and I have always felt it would make the girls, their mother, and honestly, myself, feel very uncomfortable if I were to get involved.  For these and many other reasons the idea of actively involving myself in the girls school would present more problems than answers, so I kept to myself and contributed from afar.  

This year our Lovely Lindsey Lu started 3rd grade.  She loves to go to school, to be engaged in learning, to see her friends, and to do well.  Her class needed volunteers to help with their literature hour.  She asked my husband if he would volunteer to help and given his schedule at work it is almost impossible.  He did direct her to ask me.  When you have those beautiful blue eyes looking up at you, wanting so badly for you to say "YES", how can you say no?  So I said yes.

The first Friday I volunteered Lindsey Lu was so happy to see me it brought tears to my eyes.  She was excited to have one of her people there.  I forget how much it means to kids when their parents take the time to volunteer and get involved.  At the end of the hour I spent helping the class work through their reading books Lindsey gave me the biggest hug.  It was the kind of hug that communicates how much a child loves you without using a single word.  It was the kind of hug a parent never forgets.  It is the kind of hug memories are made of.  After the session I met the other mom who had volunteered with me for coffee so we could work out a schedule.  We shared normal chit chat and funny stories, but one thing she said will stick with me forever.  She said "the thing I really liked about you when I first met you was that you didn't speak badly about the girls mother when it would be so easy to do".  It was the first time I recognized myself as living the words of Mother Teresa "If you are kind, people may accuse you of ulterior motives. Be kind anyway".

The following week I sent out our annual "Summer Fun" cards to our family.  It is a greeting card, just like a Christmas card, filled with photos of our kids having fun at the lake and enjoying the warm weather and sunshine.  Whenever I send out cards I always send a card to the girls Mother, to their maternal Grandparents, and to their Aunt and Uncle.  I used to imagine they got tossed out or were more of a nuisance than a welcome piece of mail, but I kept sending them out because the idea behind them is to keep family updated on the kids.  And since the girls Mother, her parents and siblings are part of their family, they all make the mailing list.  

I went to the mailbox on Wednesday and much to my surprise there was a card from the girls maternal Grandmother.  As I walked to the house terrible thoughts ran through my head.  Was she going to be asking me to stop sending them mail.  Was going to she tell me to back off and quit being such a goody two shoes?  Was she going to give me a piece of her mind?  All made me feel sick to my stomach.  My heart sank.  What had been done with the best of intentions was perhaps not received as such.As I opened the envelope my heart was racing.  I was surprised to read such a loving message.  She was ever so appreciative for the cards and pictures we had sent.  My heart smiled and my soul rejoiced.  This card, this little piece of paper with black ink on it, spoke more to my spirit than to my head.  It reminded me that choosing to look beyond being a step-parent and just being a parent was the right choice.  And while it wasn't easy to get my head and heart around the idea of the girls maternal family being part of our family.  In receiving this card from my husband's ex-wife's mother I realized that I was living the dream of emulating my Mother's kind heart through the instructive words of Mother Teresa, "The good you do today may be forgotten tomorrow. Do good anyway".  It finally became clear to me that accepting their place in our family was not only the right thing to do, but it was  possible to be kind without recognition or reward.  

Doing what is right and being kind is a conscious choice we make.  It is often easier to be mean.  To tease someone.  To use our jealousy or anger to justify speaking badly about others.   To ignore the parts we wish would go away.  It is in choosing to do what is right and what is kind, even if it isn't the easier route, that I am truly becoming my parents.  

en la vida tenemos una oportunidad de llenarnos de la felicidad

Between the age of 15 to about 24 I was truly someone only my mother could love.  I was moody.  Mean.  Difficult.  Selfish.  I was young and completely focused on my belly button - meaning only looking at myself.  No amount of catechism classes, girl scout meetings, music lessons, or summer camps could balance out the rage that was building up inside me.  It wasn't until I became a mom that I truly understood just how selfish and unkind I had been.

I am now on the opposite side of the equation.  My oldest daughter is 13.  She is beautiful by every definition of the word.  She is smart and loving, but she is still a teenager.  She is learning to cope with the new surge of hormones that seem to invade her body at the oddest times.  She is learning how to navigate adult concepts and emotions.  She is trying to figure out who she is and who she wants to become.  She is testing boundaries and limits to see how far they go.  As with any teenage girl it can be difficult to stand on the outside looking in and understand what is happening.  Often times you are left wondering who turned on the "crazy" switch?  And where is the "OFF" button.  It is in those moments that I channel my Mother's good nature and kindness.  It is in those moments I stretch to look outside of myself and try to see where my daughter is coming from.  It is those moments I seek to extend my arms for a hug rather than raise my voice to scold.

Two weeks ago we went to our cabin to visit my parents and to spend some time away from all of the hustle and bustle.  Normally, when we visit my folks I wake up early and spend the first few hours of the morning talking to my Father.  Just Dad and I taking on the world over a cup of coffee.  This time my eldest daughter joined us each morning.  She would get up about a half hour after I did.  She would sit next to her Grandpa and he would tease her about her favorite stuffed animal "Duckles".  She would talk to us about "stuff" - movies, music, food, school, hopes, dreams - anything you can think of.  It is in these morning conversations that I can really see who my daughter is becoming.

They say what goes around comes around, but don't we all just go around once?  We have this one life, this one chance to be happy, to live, to be the only person we were meant to be - ourselves.  Our children may not be who we wish them to be.  Who we envisioned they would be.  They will be who they are supposed to be and as parents we hope our children will become better people than we are.  It is truly a gift to watch my daughter come into her own.  She is all the best parts of me, of her Father, of her Mother, and of her Grandparents.  She is all of the good in each of us wrapped up in one person.  I am constantly amazed and delighted by who she is becoming and in this way I know I am becoming more like my parents each day.

To Forgive Is To Forget

I am often in the position of standing in a singular moment in awe of what the world has to offer. For the longest time I wondered how my parents could forgive and let go. Having grown up watching my parents give whatever they had to those who needed it, seemingly without a return on their investment, I have often wondered how do they not resent giving so much and not receiving in return an equal or greater amount (I am not speaking in monetary terms here).

Yesterday I discovered the reason why. I was sitting in mass next to my husband after a perfect morning. Sleeping in, making breakfast for my boys (the girls were at their mothers), being at mass together as a family and still bothered by issues from times in the long and recent past. When I returned from the pity party I was having for myself in my head I realized Father Steve was giving his homily. He was talking about forgiveness. Forgiveness, he said, must be coupled with forgetfulness. One must forgive and forget. His words were profound. If you have to spend the energy to hold on to the issue and catalog it away, have you really forgiven that person?

It made me realize we are always taught to forgive, but no one tells us to then forget, to let it go, release it into the universe. This realization answered the question I had pondered about my parents for so many years. They are able to forgive because they are able to forget. They don't hold on to how painful it was to hear your child tell you they hate you, or how sad it made them when their friends didn't call when Mom was so sick, or how hard it was to have to stop working because their body gave out before their minds (this last point is still debated over dinner, the losing their mind, not the forgiveness part). They were able to forgive because they were able to forget. And in forgiving and forgetting they have been able to embrace the next phase of their life without a huge sense of loss but an appreciation for what they have.

It is in this way I hope I will become most like my parents.

Honesty - Is it always the best policy?

We teach our children that "honesty is the best policy", that the truth will set them free.  Yet do our actions support those teachings?  If our children muster up the courage to tell us something, something they feel or experience that we may not want to hear, or are angered to know, are we open to hearing what they have to say?

As a child I remember telling my parents many things I'm sure they did not want to hear.  I remember telling my Mom I thought she loved my sister more because she spent more time with her.  I remember telling her I hated that she was sick when I was growing up (like, she chose to be sick???). I also remember her listening to me, validating my feelings, and then talking through them with me.  It takes great courage for a child to tell the truth.  It takes even greater courage for a parent to accept that truth and not dismiss the feelings of their child, especially if those truths are aimed to hurt you.

If we cannot appreciate and place value on what our children tell us then is honesty truly the best policy?  Does the truth set them free or does it just add another shackle to the chains that keep them tied to the fear of telling us the truth?

If your child is brave enough to tell you something, listen.  Don't respond, just listen.  Evaluate and think about what they are saying.  Then if it warrants it talk about it with your child.  It takes an enormous amount of courage to tell the truth.  As the parent, the adult, you have the option to let the truth set your child free or make them fearful of the truth for the rest of their life.  

Tug-O-War

A girlfriend of mine once said, "My Mama loved to hate my Dad, more than she loved her children".  What she meant by this is that when her mother and father divorced, her mother seemed to almost enjoy trying to hurt her father by making him feel like a second class citizen in front of and through their children.  My girlfriends mother didn't care that putting her children in the middle would cost her their relationship as they grew into adults.  This may sound harsh and a bit surreal but I assure you it happens more often than we think.

I cannot understand loving anything more than my children.  I absolutely cannot understand hating someone more than I love my children, yet time and time again you see couples at odds because their marriage ended who are unable to co-parent because one or the other can't look past their own anger, disappointment, or fear to put their children first.  Putting their children in the position of feeling like they have to chose a side, when there is no side to be chosen.

My ex-husband and I tried for 3 years to conceive a child.  We spent tens of thousands of dollars trying to become parents.  For us becoming parents was a choice, a well thought through, planned, no surprises kinda deal and after all our sacrifices to become parents we were not going to let anything come before our son, not even the bitter feelings of divorce.  I don't mean to suggest that we were all buddy, buddy or that there weren't tears or hurt feelings - believe me, there were.  What I do mean to say is making sure our son felt loved unconditionally, knew that we were still a family (despite not being married), and that he would never have to choose between us became our priority.  Learning how to forgive because a necessity.

I am happy to say my son now has his Father's side of the family, which includes his girlfriend and her daughter, and my side of the family which includes my husband, his daughters, and his extended family. Our family just grew exponentially turning an only child with one Aunt on either side into a brother, a nephew, a cousin, a grandson, and into one very happy little boy.  Being divorced means you are not married, it does not necessarily mean you are not family.  When you have children you will always be connected to your ex-spouse.  It may take time but once you understand that when you berate or negate your ex-spouses role in your child's life, you negate half of who your child is.  No child should have to feel less than whole.  You are still family, you are part of your child's family.

My Grandfather once told his children, "No one of you is greater than the sum total of you.  We are family".  While Grandpa was referring to siblings, I believe the same holds true regarding children affected by divorce.  No single side of the family is better than the sum total of the whole family.  It is then, and only then, that our children can be proud of who they are - ALL OF who they are.