Memorial Day is a mindset not a fiesta

I may be getting jaded, old or (on a more positive note) maybe gaining a greater appreciation for life, but I have to say the past few days I've found myself becoming increasingly annoyed at the disconnect that exists with Memorial Day. We're inundated with commercials for epic sales on washers and dryers or clothing. There's the gazillion bags of chips and fritos that will line red and white checkered tables this weekend with cases of soda and beer to fuel hydration needs from sea to shining sea. Lots of greetings for Happy Memorial Day and have an awesome weekend salutations. 

As I sit on my front porch enjoying my day off what resonates in the back of my mind is the 'why' I have this day off. I spent a few minutes thinking of the many faces and hearts who will not be with their loved ones. I think of my dear friends, the Leonards, who spend their weekend with the absence of their son, Jared who paid the ultimate sacrifice in giving his life for us. I am thankful for Jared beyond words and as each Memorial Day rolls around I think of his smile, love for his family and country and the amazing man that he was. He gave of himself for us. 

Sometimes it can be more comfortable to not remember, because that can be uncomfortable. But we live in a society mired in comfort, political correctness and softness. In my opinion, reflecting and appreciating make us better as people. So as we honk the horn at the guy taking to long to move after the light has turned green or frustrated at the line at the supermarket or while waiting for our macchiato at the local bean shop; all of these beautiful pleasures in life we enjoy without really connecting how we arrived here. We have freedoms that many across the globe can hardly fathom. 

As you grill your burgers, work on your garden and talk politics over drinks take a few minutes to pause and remember the meaning behind today. There are thousands that won't have their mom, dad, best friend or cousin to play horse shoes with or sit around the fire pit at the end of a long day because their loved one paid the ultimate sacrifice. They gave their lives for our freedom. I am so very grateful to be an American, but today I am humbled to remember the countless who gave their life for my freedoms. Freedom is not free. Take some time to remember and never forget.

Life is but a vapor

One of my favorite verses in the Bible is found in the book of James, “ you do not know what will happen tomorrow. For what is your life? It is even a vapor that appears for a little time and then vanishes away.” Our years on this earth, whether they be nine or ninety five, pass through our fingertips like grains of sand. Life is fleeting.

Seventeen years ago today was my greatest reminder of how very fleeting and fragile life is. In one moment, one person’s decisions placed an end to four beautiful lives. A drunk driver snuffed out the life of my sister, Shana, and her three friends, Angela, Megan and Amanda. It’s nearly impossible to grasp that they had only seventeen years on earth and have now been gone for that same allotted time.

  

In seventeen years it seems as though a lifetime has passed and yet I can close my eyes and see Shana’s smile and hear her laugh as though it was yesterday. There have been moments in my life where I can’t allow myself to absorb her absence, because even after seventeen years it stings and my heart aches terribly. But I am still here, and although I look forward to the day I will see her again, the reality is that there will be a day that I take my last breath. That could be today or it may be in fifty years from now. Life’s a vapor.
 

Seventeen years have been filled with thousands of days of lessons, challenges and refining of how I perceive life and those I surround myself with. We don’t know how much time we have, but so often we live absorbed and caught up with things, stressors and crazy that simply doesn’t matter. If you were to reassess how you spend your time, who you spend it with and if you’re taking the opportunity to appreciate what you have how would you fare? When is the last time you said to your loved ones that you love them, that you appreciate them or hugged them? We might have a rewind button for our dvds and dvr, but there’s no rewind in life. Don’t wait, don’t waste time on things that detract from the hearts of loved ones and don’t make excuses.

 

               

It can be uncomfortable to think about losing someone we love, but what’s more uncomfortable is having allowed time slip through our fingertips where we’ve neglected and undervalued a relationship that could have been so much more. One of the greatest gifts I have is the memory of the last time my two sisters and I were together. We stood in our driveway and did our three sister hug as I was heading back to school from Spring Break. It was a quick hug. We goofed around, smiled and I waved goodbye as I pulled out of the driveway. Little did I know it would be our last time together. I am so very grateful for that last memory. Since as long as I can remember my parents made us hug. There were so many times I complained, rolled my eyes and even did the hundreds of ‘half hugs’ when we weren’t on good terms. Those hugs outweigh any paycheck, meeting or fancy material item. Time, conversations and love are precious.

 

Take a few minutes today, make a phone call, send a text, give a hug or grab a seat and chat with that someone that makes you smile and makes life better. Don’t wait. Life’s too short to not embrace those worth embracing. 

Judge Free Zone

     Not judging a book by its cover is so much easier coined than lived out. It’s human nature to judge, evaluate and allowing our eyes to delve beyond the surface can be trying. But how very cool would it be that instead of soaking in a person’s clothing labels it was their heart you encountered first? I’m thinking that could backfire for some for sure. Have you been guilty of jumping the gun where your attitude and approach to a person may be softened or hardened depending on what they were or weren’t wearing, the piercings or tattoos on their bodies or how they spoke? If you haven’t, well you have…hate to break it to you.

     But the truth is what we find as aesthetically appealing to the eye on the surface, and we all have different definitions of that, can sometimes be very contrasting to what lies beneath. Some of my most in depth and thought provoking conversations have stemmed from the kid in my office who just looks exceptionally rough around the edges to the traveler I’ve shared dinner with that most would pass by on the street without a word or a glance. But we’ve all been guilty of assuming we know what an individual is about based upon appearance.  We discriminate without even realizing it and with that we hastily go about our day without realizing we missed out on something pretty awesome.

    When it’s you being discriminated against it can not only sting, but feel pretty crappy. I made an attempt to trek to the Czech Republic via train hopping from Austria with a few hour lay over in Munich, Germany. My frolicking in Munich got the better of me and I ended up missing my 2 am train leaving me with my pack, only a few Deutsch marks (pre-Euro) , utterly exhausted and totally alone. I opted to migrate to the waiting area where other backpackers and a handful of homeless resided to catch a few hours of sleep before deciding where I would head next. I was exhausted. I used my belt to tie myself to my pack that left no opportunity for it being lifted without them taking me with it. Good luck with that. My hair was pulled back, my jeans were visibly worn and my sweater had seen better days, but I had planned on throwing my things in the wash at my next destination. It was not quite 8 am when I was poked in the side by someone uttering incomprehensible words in German. All I wanted to do was sleep just a little longer. Words were exchanged again and just as I opened my eyes a sharp pain shot across my rib cage and my eyes filled with tears as I bit my lip to refrain from screaming. A billy club was my morning wake up call by the local police whose task was to remove the ruffians from the terminal before the rush of travelers set in. At that moment I had never felt such a sickening combination of pain, shame and anger that simmered with me long after I left Munich. My wake up was based on where I was, how I looked and how I was perceived as being a public annoyance lumped in with the homeless and other riff raft.

      It’s funny how little we really know about those we can sometimes be surrounded   by everyday who have a certain look that works for or against them impacting how we engage in conversation and approach them. Maybe they’re struggling with ptsd, their marriage is falling apart, bills are piling up and they feel like they’re drowning Or just simply they’re layered with life experiences that have the ability to enrich your life? There is always so much more than what lies on the surface.

    It’s kind of a cool challenge to allow your eyes to focus less on the wardrobe and exterior and more on the heart and character. It takes time and patience, but the reward outweighs the effort. It’s a great way to sift through the buttheads and find some gems that would have otherwise been overlooked.

Chewy didn't roll solo

Goose had Maverick and Han Solo had Chewbaka. Both of these guys had a wingman through the course of their journeys that endured both good and bad. As a new school year and college term has kicked off my hope is that every young person has their own Chewy or Goose. Whether in the hallways or on the weekends every one of our kids will be faced with decisions, moral dilemmas and peer pressures that can often be uncomfortable and sometimes has the potential to be life altering. It’s that person who not only has your back, but will call you out on poor decision making or will stand up for you when you are in over your head. Often times it takes a handful of experiences involving hurt, broken promises or even betrayal before the selection process becomes more refined. It isn’t an easy thing.

     After completing grad school I spent six months working in New Zealand and a few weeks travelling throughout Australia and Fiji. While in Fiji I island hopped in pursuit of good surf and diving. I met some locals who owned a dive shop on the main land and they invited me to do a trek with them free of charge. I was a very green diver, only receiving my cert a month or so prior in Australia , with only a handful of dives under my belt. When you dive you always are encouraged to have a buddy, or a wingman. My wingman, Raj, assured me I was in good hands and that we were going to check out an unbelievable wreck that sunk a few hundred years back.  I wasn’t certified to dive wrecks yet, but I caved in, put on my gear and eagerly accompanied my wingman in to the deep blue.

     As we descended I kept my eyes fixed on Raj who would turn around every ten I feet or so and give me a bob of the head with a thumbs up. I slowly followed him through the first passageway into the ship and as we entered visibility quickly decreased and my wingman was out of sight. There would be different doorways to go through and it was unclear as to which way they turned making it a very real possibility of getting lost in the belly of the ship. I knew the guys were probably only a few feet ahead, but I opted to make my way back to the surface.. But as I hastily exited the knob on my air tank became pinned in between the rusty shards of the door’s frame. I couldn’t move forward or backwards and for a second I was pretty sure I was done for. The only option remaining was removing weight belt and physically holding my air tank as I maneuvered by body where I was facing my tank. I jostled it and after a few jiggles the knob was free and I was able to strap my gear back on and resurface.

      My wingman did not have my back. I remember thinking on the boat ride back to land at how differently my outcome could have been and that my ability to trust someone I knew nothing about was foolish on my part. Every day adults and young people are faced with decisions that range from whether or not to say something if you’re in the car and the driver is texting, to speak up when we hear someone being bullied, to posting inappropriate comments or pictures on social media and the list goes on. Sometimes we have our guard down, don’t think straight or are just simply being a butt head. It’s times such as these that we need to be held accountable, called out and need a wing man.

     Sometimes it can be easy to get caught up in finding someone whose convenient or more fun than reliable and honest. My hope is that as our kids and loved ones begin another year the focus won’t be on how many friends are in their circle, but how good the ones they have are. Even having one solid Goose or Chewy goes a whole lot further than a dozen fair weathered peeps. May the force be with you.

Get uncomfortable

“Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country,” was JFKs prompting to the American people during his inaugural address in 1961.  Now, a half a century later it is a way of thinking that has gone out of style. We’ve hit a bit of a snag when it comes to having a national movement with individuals serving others and passionate about bettering both country and people. So much of our culture weighs appearance and material possession over character and sacrifice. With this compromise we’ve lost so much depth and direction. It’s sad.

Complacency has been exchanged for passion. Our culture has become comfortable being comfortable creating barriers in the ability to see past ourselves, our own needs and wants. It’s a bubble wrap lifestyle that’s deflated of authentic joy. Blah. Life is too short to be consistently comfortable. There’s something pretty fantastic about assuming the risk of stepping outside of yourself and crossing the line from complacently comfortable to a shaken and stirred, out of the box mover and shaker. There are a billion ways to give of yourself, to bring a smile to another person in the world and add joy that will surpass your comprehension. It starts with one step, opening your eyes.

One of the coolest experiences is watching the wheels churn in a young person when they have to make the conscious choice as to whether they choose the path of comfort or take a risk and go beyond themselves. If and when that choice occurs there is a ripple effect. It impacts how they look at life, their attitude and, eventually,  it trickles into all facets of their life. But we have to stoke the fire for this generation providing opportunities as well as encouraging a vision that isn’t innate.

Last week I trekked into Philly with a bunch of kids who etched a day out of their summer to schlep into the city on a really hot day to hand out bag lunches and clothes to those less fortunate.  They had nothing to gain. Each of them took the step allowing themselves to be uncomfortable. Those they served sometimes looked a little different or maybe had an odor. It was awkward for some handing out lunches to someone they knew didn’t have a place to sleep that night. It was uncomfortable helping the lady who was missing teeth rifle through clothing for her husband who had lost his job and now they were living at a shelter. But the beauty of it is that the lessons from that afternoon will resonate with these kids. Their hands, their feet made a difference in the lives of others and it didn’t take a whole lot of effort. It just took being willing to be a little uncomfortable.

We don’t all have to hit the streets of our local cities. That isn’t in the cards for some of us. It might be going through your cupboards and donating a bag full of groceries to your local food pantry. It could be volunteering a few hours a month at a women’s shelter or participating in a 5k that raises awareness for CF or MS. The opportunities to serve, contribute are endless and they don’t have to require you pulling out your checkbook. Sometimes utilizing your time and heart can go a whole lot farther and take more effort than a monetary donation.

As we were returning to our cars empty handed last Friday in Philly, my feet were a little sore and I my shirt was damp from sweat. As we crossed the Ben Franklin Parkway the group of kids I was walking with were already chatting about what we needed to bring with us the next time we rolled into town. They were stoked and watching their eyes flicker with the contagious state of ‘goodness’ made my week. The truth is that serving, giving and compassion isn’t a one time thing. The ultimate goal is to allow it to become a lifestyle and when that happens, man, you get a whole new vision for life and those around you.

Bitter better or not?

“Don’t be a bitter Betty.” What is bitterness? Webster’s Dictionary defines it as the following:  “exhibiting intense animosity, harshly reproachful marked by cynicism and rancor .” Each of us are handed a different hand of cards in life. One of our greatest challenges may be in not comparing our hand to the guy or girl on either side of us. Sometimes life can present challenges, obstacles, losses and strife that can seem daunting. It’s easy to compare and contrast and think, “well, this surely isn’t fair now is it?”

Bitterness isn’t an immediate state, but it is something that we choose to take on. Whether we like it or not it is a choice.  It may first surface as anger or resentment that then festers and over time morphs itself into bitterness. Whether it be from losing a job, ongoing financial challenges, a string of unhealthy relationships, constant health ailments the loss of a loved one or a million other slights that happen in life sometimes life can be wicked unfair.  The line can be fine, but the transition from one state into the other is rarely a rapid one. It’s an internal simmering of hurt, regret or anger that can lead to a boiling pot of emotion that inevitably will spit and sputter causing pain to both the individual and those around them.

My junior year of college I went through a state of loss and hurt that rocked my world to the core. I experienced grief, anger and a sadness that seemed to almost consume me. At one point I remember my Dad putting his arm around me and saying, “you have a choice to make. What lies ahead of you will test you. Do not let anger consume you. Do not become bitter. Bitterness will cripple you. Ask God for strength, peace and direction.” It was at that moment I received some of the wisest prodding one could receive and I made the decision to ignore those words. For the next few years I allowed bitterness to overcome me and it skewed my thinking, perception of life and impacted my relationships with people.  It was the loneliest chapter of my life.

I was fighting a battle in the ring of life that was me vs. me. It was tiring, lonely and unnecessary. Walls were built around my heart to keep people at a distance and joy seemed to have been extracted from the simple pleasures of life. It wasn’t until I realized that my quality of life was being affected and I was, emotionally, hurting those around me. I prayed for guidance, forgiveness and peace. Bitterness kicked my butt for sometime, but I am grateful that it only made me stronger after the fact.

Every day we will face different challenges and struggles. There will be seasons in life where your heart may ache from loss, loneliness or frustration. Sometimes those seasons may seem like they have end. We do not know the pain and hurt of those around us and it is not our job to judge because so much lies beneath the surface. Anger is a normal emotion. Sadness is a normal emotion. What is neither healthy nor constructive is not dealing with it and allowing them to fester and morph into bitterness.

Personally, I have come to the conclusion that life can be crazy unfair sometimes but it’s way too short to dwell, simmer and quite simply be miserable. You are too beautiful of a creation and life is a vapor; don’t waste it on an emotion that will ultimately cripple the ability to enjoy the blessings and beauty that exists on a daily basis. Press forward, breath deeply and know bitterness is rubbish.

Wrinkles and lines

 Last week my grandmother celebrated her 95th birthday. It was also the first time she met my son, Jack, who was named after her late husband and my grandfather. As she sat rocking little Jack, cradled in her arms, she sang "Hello Dolly" and about half way through I noticed how she struggled to hold back tears. As I stood back watching my little boy being held by my last living grandparent it was a pretty poignant moment. I knew that my grandma was overwhelmed with emotion holding the little boy named after her husband and how Jack represented the season of life and birth as she comes closer to the end of her own life. My little one entered a world my grandmother struggles to keep up with while she possesses a history, so very rich, he will never fully be able to grasp it.

We live in a society that glamorizes youth and suffers greatly from ageism. Wrinkles and sagging body parts are frowned upon and there is a fear of age equating to decreased significance. The pressure to pursue an everlasting youthful look is off the charts. With focus geared upon youth and a fast paced everything there's a trend of discounting the weight in knowledge and wisdom of the elderly. They move slow. They drive slow. Forget about trying to explain tweeting or tagging someone. When they were born there was no internet, cell phones and, for some, no television. Our elderly are living, breathing history lessons and so often we are so busy being busy we don't take the time to ask questions, listen and learn. I'm just as guilty as the next person of already thinking about the next 'have to do' instead of allowing myself to live in the moment. 

My grandma was born in the roaring 20s, survived the depression, the heart ache of World War II and a time where being Jewish came with consequence. What she has lived through is mind boggling it's hard to wrap my head round it. I believe every human possesses their own chapters in life and so often we are so caught up in the now we don't take the time to gain insight into the pages of those closest to us. Her wrinkles and lines around her face represent the timeline of the life she has lived. Sitting on the front porch last week I learned a little more about my grandma just because I simply asked a few questions. With a cup of coffee, a rocking chair and her youngest great grandchild on her lap time froze and I learned about her, her parents and our family history. It's a wealth of information that can't be acquired in any other way than taking the time to ask because there will be a time when the opportunity will no longer be there. 

So as my little dude is four months old next week I'm learning more as a mom and attempting to look at life through his eyes than I have in my previous 37 years of life. Every day is a gift and the beauty of life becomes all the richer when we allow ourselves to learn more about those who (whether we like it or not) are connected to us, our history and generations of family that won't be here forever. There will be a day where the rocking chair will be empty and there will be no more opportunities for questions or coffee. Don't let time and opportunity to slip through your fingertips. I would give anything to have an hour to chat with my Grandpa Jack or my Dad's mom. They've both been gone for over 30 years now and there's so much I would have loved to ask given the opportunity. 

But the truth is we can cling to the 'should have' or 'would have' mentality or we can realize the fragility of life and begin to take a little more time to respect the wrinkles, gain curiosity when observing the many lines on a face and grab a rocking chair.