Blah, Blah, Blog!

I started thinking about Ash Wednesday and LENT!!! Then my friend Erika (shout out) told me about The Pope (his untimely resignation).  Seriously when you are The Pope, "El Papa" you have to submit your letter of resignation to GOD, I really love my job, my life and my spiritual connection to the God personal to me.  I don't ever want to put in a resignation....(Crossing fingers it stays that way) Anywhoooo I decided to republish this blog in hopes to rekindle my fire for writing a blog...

It's been a while since I've taken the time to go all "Madonna" on the world and "Express Yourself" via a blog or an Internet post on Social Networks. I have been off Facebook since Wednesday February 22, (4:52pm) 2012. A decision to give something pleasurable up as a Lenten practice even though I haven't been "Officially Catholic" since about 1978 with the exception of going to Mass when in trouble or looking for guidance but still committing Mortal sin by not going regularly (oh and it's 2005 if my mom asks, since Pope John Paul II's death would be the only acceptable reason missing mass). Approximately One week and two days with the bare minimum of only the most prehistoric social networking tools first invented; a few emails here and there with my friends, some text conversations and a pleasant phone call or two. I decided today to dabble a bit on Pinterest and then after reading my friend Doug's Blog (Ask a Gentleman Farmer) which I HIGHLY recommend, I decided to give my own Blog a whirl.

I've used the former socially productive minutes of my days to become more spiritually productive, reading meditations on line, praying quietly for friends with ailing parents, random drunk strangers I've seen in meetings, people once close to me who've walked out of the sunlight of the spirit and for anyone who simply said "please pray for me". What I've enjoyed about this process is the clarity of my mind, the settling in of new ideas. Where I once thought my prayers carried weight with God, that if I prayed long enough, hard enough, sincere enough, God would grant my "wish", I now have an understanding that eluded me for so long. The understanding that if in fact I pray long enough, hard enough, sincere enough, God's will for my "wishes" will still happen as God determines and life goes on. I however, I will change. I will have the opportunity to grow closer to my creator. I will understand that the power of prayer is in the action and the result is a foundation of faith that no matter what the outcome is, I've drawn closer to God. I’ve relied on God, fell even deeper in love with God.

You see I'm a seeker. A seeker you say? Yes a seeker. I am always seeking. I love the life I live today. The connection with God as I understand Him has formed and continues to evolve, shape itself to what is meant to be regardless of my level of effort or lack thereof. Strange as that may sound I have come to accept that God is always present even if I am not. The beauty of this blog, the beauty of not socializing electronically for ME, for my betterment, is that for the most my relationship to God has improved. When that happens inevitably my relationship to those who participate in my life improves.

GOD, that's a BIG GIANT word for some and a teeny tiny insignificant 3 letter word for others... Take it and do with it what you will, run with it to the bank, hide it under your mattress or pass it by like a dull mangled piece of circular copper in the gutter. It's yours to handle and process however you see fit. As for me, I like where things are headed regardless of the fact that I do not know where that is. I've decided, God's got me right where he wants me and I'm ok with that. My spiritual bank account continues to donate to the well-being of others with the promise of overdraft protection as long as I continue to give away what was so freely given to me.

D-Day

Not many words of my own wisdom to share but a brief portion of my dads journal to me regarding his D-Day experience...

The next evening things began to repeat themselves until about midnight when we loaded in the planes and took off for France.  Every thing went as usual until we began to see tracer bullets and anti-aircraft shells flash by or explode.
The green light flashed and out we went.  It was cloudy with an occasionally a moon shinning through. We were not anywhere that looked like the sand table.  In the night or in the morning it is almost impossible to tell distances.  I could see shimmering light occasionally on water below me. I saw a tree line not too far away and decided to prepare to land when I thought I was level with the tree tops.  I had no idea how deep the water was.  Maybe a flooded field or a small lake.  Lucky for me it was a flooded field only deep enough that i could keep my head above water from a partial lying position.  I was heavily loaded, the water shrunk the cotton parachute straps so I couldn't get the harness unfastened.  We all had a push button knife in the collar of our uniform.  I unzipped the collar pocket, got out my knife and began sawing on the straps until I could free myself from the parachute and get to my feet.  I didn't have a faint idea where I was and I was alone...

Thus began my dads journey into WWII on D-DAY, June 6, 1944

Rite of passage...

In approximately 21 minutes (at the time this writing began) my one and only child, Dalin, will turn 21.  That's 21 minutes in Minnesota, Fertile, MN to be exact.  I live in CA, she was born in CA, so technically I think it's 2 hours and 21 (19 now) minutes.....

I've contemplated this "rite of passage" and how it is observed in American culture.  It means one thing and one thing only you can "legally" buy booze... At 18 men register for the draft and all people become "legal adults" responsible for their own affairs.  No longer under the care and "control" of a parent. At 16 we get our driver's licences. Seems like our culture may have it's priorities askew, perhaps emphasizing these events as "rites" or rights if you will, which should clearly be privileges and honors... 

Something always triggers a "dad' fact or memory for me and the draft mentioned above reminds me that at age 17 my dad lied about his age so he could enlist and go off to fight in the "greatest war that ever was" (so say the historians)....I think my dad might agree with me today that the greatest war that ever was is happening now.  It's the war we are loosing in raising our children with morals and values that seem archaic, antiquated and otherwise useless in today's world simply because we don't take the time to practice them ourselves.  We can't teach that which we do not know but how did I/We forget what our parents taught us?  I have to believe if there is any hope at all for society it's not forgotten, it's just been on hold for 40 years and it's time to kick it into high gear...

I guess my daughters "rite of passage" makes me think about what I was doing on my 21st birthday. I was carrying her, not in my arms but in my belly.  I was NOT out celebrating in typical American fashion that's for sure.  But don't worry I made up for that in my 30's...  Four months and 12 days after I turned 21 I gave birth to the most beautiful human being I've ever had the privilege of loving.  I don't think I failed her but not "practicing" the values my parents instilled within me, because through God's perfect Grace she turned out pretty amazing and that is not something I take credit for but something I was honored to participate in...

Another rite of passage I suppose, the realization that now, I really get the change to sit back, enjoy what God created, what I've been allowed to have a front row seat in observing, give my two cents every now and them, falling in love with the most perfect human being to ever walk the face of the earth...  Two minutes (MN time) til she's 21...

Happy Birthday Dalin....You are the love of my life <3

Death and Taxes

I figured if I started this blog with the worst there would be nowhere but UP to go from here right?

So my Dad died.  Just like that. Yes he was 86, but it was unexpected and I wasn't prepared.  Apparently he was.  His last words were "I'm tired."  So he uneventfully went to sleep while my mother was attending to him at his bedside.  The paramedics were called, they tried to revive him to no avail and at 11:45 PM February 15, 2011 my dad was left to rest in his bed where he was always most comfortable.

The last time I saw my Dad was January 20th, 2011 (my mothers 75th birthday).  We (Bert and I, you'll hear more about him in upcoming blogs) went to celebrate and have a short visit.  My Dad was in a good mood, he had been working out in his tool shed more the previous 6 months and seemed to have had a bit of reprieve from his former states of Dementia and Alzheimer's.  He was clear and excited about woodworking again, something he hadnt' been in years.  As we left to take my mom shopping he hollered for me and I went to him.  I wrapped my arms around his neck from behind.  I kissed his cheek and asked what he needed.  He said "Bring a some chocolate will ya? Your Momma gives me one lousy M&M when I ask for chocolate."  I told him I would bring him some chocolate.  When we returned I gave him a Three Musketeer's Bar to eat right away hid another in his desk drawer along with a Milkyway.  He was visibly pleased, wrapped his one good arm around me, thanked me and told me he loved me and missed me and wished I would come around more often.

That was it. That was the last act of love my father and I exchanged.  I consider myself lucky he didn't suffer. My Dad died with the knowledge that I loved him unconditionally and I with the knowledge he loved me the same.

I found out yesterday that my dear sweet friend Steve Swiderski, my champion and confidant for 16 years passed away just two days before my last visit with my father.  Steve was an incredible man. In fact he was the only other person I ever met who held no judgment of others and loved America the way my father did.  My fondest memories of Steve are of hours spent taking about how GREAT the 70's were and how great 70's music was... I made him several CD's and even have a Steve Swiderski Play list in my iTunes that boasts classic hits by Randy Vanwarmer, Styx, Robert John, Player, Orleans, Leo Sayer and many more.... One of our only regular arguments was that he would die and I would not be notified.  I am saddened to admit that I ultimately won that argument.  Which I am certain pisses him off as much as it does me.  Steve LOVED life.  He was the healthiest most fit man I've ever known.  There was never a crumb of junk food in his house.  His refrigerator had bottled water, maybe some Mike's Hard Lemonade, fresh fruit and veggies, Skim milk, protein powder and that nights fresh fish, chicken or steak in it and that was it.  He worked out two to three hours everyday and took great care of his physical well-being.  So to read on the intranet that he died in his home of natural causes at age 46 was a complete shock.  This was the longest period of time that he and I didn't talk on a regular basis the last I heard from him was in December and prior to that I had called him on his birthday like I do every year on July 13th.  As always my conversation with him was pleasant filled with laughter and was from the heart.  He never gave me anything less than his best.  He was my champion and my cheerleader he always encouraged me to choose wisely and to be an example to Dalin.

Loosing my Dad and my friend in the same quarter has been a tough blow.  But more than anything a reality check on how lucky I was for 42 years and 16 years concurrently, to have two amazing men love and support me, cheer me on and want nothing but the best for me.  So Death sucks, but I get it, it happens.  Without death some realizations may never come to fruition.

As for the taxes I see the importance of choosing Blog Titles wisely and will expand upon that thought next time....

For Brownie... My beloved Father and For Squid My beloved confidant.  Both forever in my heart.