A letter to my #1

My dearest son—

I was inspired to write you this letter after hearing a year-long, decade-long retrospective of sound bites on the radio of 2010 and the preceding decade.  I was struck by the number of events that made up 2010 and marveled at what a full year it was.  I was also inspired to write it after noticing your ‘down-in-the-dumps-ness’ last evening. 

A new year is a time to reflect on the passing of time.  Lots of people feel sad and nostalgic when they look back because of missed opportunities and times, places and people that will never come again.  Yes, there are those things, but it’s also a time to look at what a full and wonderful year 2010 was for you.  The dawn of 2010 found you in the new and challenging environment of a new school.  What a courageous move for you, son--to leave the school system where you’d been for eleven years and start out fresh.  It was a GOOD move for you.  Suddenly, you had friends to hang out with—you made LOTS of friends and met people you never would have if you hadn’t moved.  Suddenly you had activities to be involved with: Theatre and Japanese Club and your HeroClix group!!  I only wish we’d moved you sooner.  You’ve had a couple girlfriends, you graduated from high school, you got a job.  You got a car.  You met every major teenage milestone.  You started to college.

Now I understand that it may not be the job you want to spend the rest of your life in, but I assure you that you are far better off than most teens.  You work in one of the most prestigious places in town and you work for two of the nicest, fairest employers there are.  Again, son, it may not be what you had wanted for yourself, but look at the big picture--you didn't give up.  You are slowly but surely reaching your goals.  Look around you.  There are many, many people who started out with very lofty goals, and had have to lower their expectations—or have quit altogether.  You, my dear son, have started out low and are moving higher.  In May, you’ll have completed your first year of college.  Many don’t even make it that far. It’s true.  You are on track with your goals and you are moving forward.   Keep your eyes on the prize, my son.

And most of all, 2010 was FUN.  We did shows:  The One-Acts and "May the Farce Be With You".  We saw great movies:  “Harry Potter” and “Iron Man” and “Toy Story 3” and “How to Train Your Dragon” and “Tangled” and “Scott Pilgrim” and “Tron” and “True Grit”.  We went to the Lake and to GenCon and to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.  We survived the drama camp and ate out more times that I can count and had great parties, went bowling and played miniature golf, and walked in the woods, and on beaches, threw rocks in a lake, and dug in the sand, went to festivals, and museums, and saw parades, and had fun with LOTS of people.  And we probably laughed more in 2010 than in any previous year because of YouTube alone.

My beloved child, I entreat you not to be sad.  If you are like me, you will have to fight off bouts of sadness your entire life.  Don’t let the darkness win.  You are a wonderful person, with lots to offer.  You have many people who love you and you love them in return, make no mistake.

The trick to happiness—and I honestly believe this—is to find the joy in the little things.  Find reasons to laugh; find comfort in the joy of knowing that you are loved; and pay your blessings forward.   These are the secrets to day-to-day happiness.

I love you very much.  As your mom, I want so many things for you, but mostly, I want you to be happy.  In happiness, you will find success.

Love,

Your mom

Things That Make Life Worth Living--Thanksgiving Edition

I posted on Facebook that my thankfuls were 'shallow' this year, and then I proceeded to name off a bunch of fluff that basically shows me to be the self-centered, spoiled, ungrateful middle-class American that I am the other 364 days of the year.  But, seriously, isn't that what Thanksgiving has boiled down to?  Food, football, and shopping?  ;-)  Well, I have no desire to go all preachy, but...methinks I haven't done a 'reason for living' blog post in a while, so it might be time.

Reasons for Living (Reasons to be Thankful)
1.  I'm thankful for knowledge and my ability to absorb it:  for National Public Radio, the History Channel, Newsweek, Smithsonian, for books, and countless museums, and friends who are smarter than me and share their knowledge and life's wisdom.
2.  I'm thankful for food and drink:  peanutbutter M&Ms, Burger King's cookie dough pie, Mozzi's pizza, stir-fried rice, and catfish strips at Montana Mike's.  Diet Sunkist, vanilla milk shakes, apples, spicettes and chocolate chip cookies.
3.  I'm thankful for entertainment:  for "Glee" and YouTube and Facebook and the Onion, musical theatre, the song-writing contest, Harry Potter, and hilarious TV commercials.
4.  I'm thankful for technology:  for Comcast on Demand and Hulu, CGI, social networking, my computer, e-mail, voice mail and text messages on my iPhone.
5.  I'm thankful for comfort:  cowboy slippers, my leggings, my wraps, and my sweatshirt collection, heat in my car, my couch, the warm little rat dog who isn't happy unless she's cuddled up next to me, and fires in the fireplace, and for my snuggly husband.
6.  I'm thankful for the people in my life:  for the ones who give hugs; the ones who  make me laugh and the ones who laugh with me; the ones who talk to me, the ones who listen, and the ones with whom I can be silent; the ones who love me and the ones I love in return.

I'm thankful for it all.  Does it get any better than this?  Well...does it?

Diagnosis

This is not my writing....but I heard it on this morning's "Writer's Almanac" and LOVED it...
 
Diagnosis

by Sharon Olds

By the time I was six months old, she knew something
was wrong with me. I got looks on my face
she had not seen on any child
in the family, or the extended family,
or the neighborhood. My mother took me in
to the pediatrician with the kind hands,
a doctor with a name like a suit size for a wheel:
Hub Long. My mom did not tell him
what she thought in truth, that I was Possessed.
It was just these strange looks on my face—
he held me, and conversed with me,
chatting as one does with a baby, and my mother
said, She's doing it now! Look!
She's doing it now! and the doctor said,
What your daughter has
is called a sense
of humor. Ohhh, she said, and took me
back to the house where that sense would be tested
and found to be incurable.

Zombie Dream

Last night, I dreamed I was being chased by zombies.  The early part of the dream involved lots of running, chasing, barricading myself in rooms with rickety doors (by wedging a chair under the doorknob), and approaching people I knew only to realize that they were zombies.  You could tell if they were zombies because they would stare at you without blinking and then when they opened their mouths, you could see their grey and rotted teeth.

Eventually, fate caught up with me and I was bitten on the arm by Brock Rittenhouse, an old high school friend [that I haven't seen in 30 years].  I turned to my companions and began repeating over and over again, “I’m sorry!  I’m sorry!  I’m sorry!”

We all sat down to wait for the change—of me, into a zombie.  We did various things—read, cleaned….I was sewing.  Then suddenly, a fogginess enveloped me and I went limp.  I shouted to those around me, “Good-bye, good-bye, good-bye!”

Now I’m sure those of you who are reading this are sure that it’s an allegory for what’s happening in my life right now.  I would be inclined to agree with that, too, but this dream has a punchline.  Read on….

After the fogginess passed, I went back to sewing, the only thing having changed was that I was now officially a zombie.  I sat and sewed…and sewed and sewed and sewed.  And then I said, “Wow.  My attention span is a lot longer now that I’m a zombie.”   

End of dream.  I woke up.

Burning Tower

Sometimes
You think you've wounded me
You've only made me smile
I know you're in there
I see you in there
behind
the layers and layers of ice and cement
 slabs of sheet metal
Your fortress of bitterness

I offer myself up
like a lamb to the slaughter
to the countless slings and arrows
the jabs and the sucker punches
the poison
the venom you spit my way--
in hopes that
you are one step closer
to burning down
your angry tower
that Barad-dur you've built for yourself--
is one step closer
to burning down
and one step closer
to home.

Death Grip

She keeps a death grip
on that sparse bouquet of holy moments
that never fail to bring a smile 

Brisk youthful footfalls advancing across a wooden floor  
A countenance like the sun in the door frame
Glance before outrageous laughter  
Breaking even with convenience store wagers

But time, persistent healer of all wounds
Time, that Thief, pries at her fingers
loosening the hold
she has on those hopeful and petal-less stems.

Their fragrance long staled, now cloyed with rot
Their color unremarkable greyish-green
Crunchy with age, dust with a touch
Clutched yet in a grimy, resistant palm.
Holding on for dear life. 

A silence in the wires
A sliver moon rises over a dry and barren desert
She listens carefully, looks intently, waits
For a message in the spider's web
An alignment of the stars
What god wants her to know


A perfect stillness.
All quiet.
No crickets.  No ticking clock.
The house settles in silence.
And then, as soft as a sigh, but more like a prayer
Breathing in, breathing out.
"No...." she says.

Addicted to Museums

Scott Robinson, an employee of the Indianapolis Children's Museum, just posted an article naming the Indianapolis Children's
Museum one of the ten best museums for children. 


http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/39270215/ns/travel-destination_travel


I totally agree.  We Schaefers are coast-to-coast travelers and we have not been to a children's museum that comes close to rivaling the one in our own back yard.  However,  I was surprised to note that we had not been to ANY of the other nine. 


My children were raised on museums (members of the Children's Museum until just recently) and LOVE them.  One of our summer trips included visits to more than 15 Civil War battlefield sites and no matter the size of the museum--three floors of Confederate history or a scant display of artifacts found on the grounds, it was always nearly impossible to drag
them away and on to the tour.  With that in mind, here is OUR list of top ten favorites...

1)    Children’s Museum (Indianapolis, IN)
2)    Will Rogers Museum (Cleremore, OK)
3)    Spam Museum (Austin, MN)
4)    Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum (Tucson, AZ)
5)    Buffalo Bill Historical Center (Cody, WY)
6)    Museum of the Rockies (Bozeman, MT)
7)    Museum of Cowboy and Western Heritage (Oklahoma City, OK)
8)    Museum of the Confederacy (Richmond, VA)
9)    Mystic Seaport (Mystic, CT)
10)   Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, (Cleveland, OH)


Of course I have strong memories of CoSi in Columbus, the museum complex in Cincinnati, museums in Boston, DC, Denver, Fort Clatsop in Washington State, and all those fabulous Route #66 museums in Oklahoma, Arizona, and New Mexico....!  And the Eiteljorg, and the Sioux Indian Museum in Rapid City, SD...and...oh, Greenfield Village in Dearborn, and the Shipwreck Museum in Whitefish Point, MI.... 


Yep, we're addicted.  I see a 10-year vacation plan in the future where we visit each of the 9 listed in the article.  That ought to keep us busy for awhile.  ;-)