Surviving

The Cedars of Lebanon
(photo thanks to my son and his wife)

I now live part of the year in a retirement community.  I have realized recently that each of the people I meet down here in sunny Florida is a survivor.  At first glance, we are living an idyllic existence here with great weather, luxurious amenities and nice homes.  There are numerous activities which allow for pursuing any interest whether it be sports, games, arts, crafts or many other options.  One visiting grandchild called our 55 and older park, "Senior Camp".  Hubby and I have lots of fun here and especially enjoy the seemingly low-stress lifestyle.

The more I live here however, the more I realize that each person here is a survivor of sorts.  I have met two people who were children living in Germany during WWII.  One told me of searching for potatoes to feed her hungry family and seeing her sixteen-year-old brother forced into military service.  While playing cards, a man with a thick accent, told me that as a child he saw piles of bodies in the street and that the photos after 9/11 in this country hardly phased him as he had seen so much horror as a child.  My new 87-year-old Italian friend told me of immigrating to the USA only to have her husband leave her for another woman.  She was left with four children and went to work in a factory in New York City.  These three folks told me their stories only after my inquiries initiated by their beautiful accents.  Each one is living here in my community and enjoying life today.

I have been playing cards with some new girlfriends and have laughed and laughed and enjoyed their company.  One of my friends is nearly blind and so we use special cards that allow her and another partially sighted person to play the game.  Neither of these women ask for pity in any way because of their disabilities, but they do enjoy making "blind" jokes.  They are so much fun to be with and they are living life to the fullest!

One of my new friends goes to dialysis three times a week.  Although often tired, he still enjoys friends and activities.  Over cards the other night I found out that people I have come to call friends have had heart attacks and stents placed.  Some are cancer survivors.  Many folks here have mobility issues as well. 

One night at cards I began to tell my story.  Briefly I told that I had had over thirty surgeries in the past 14 years and that many resulted in complications.  I then felt free to share my personal philosophy that hard times can either make one bitter or make one compassionate.  I consciously made the decision several years ago not to be bitter and angry, and thus, for the most part, I look at my scars and am reminded of the power of God in my life. Therefore I choose to be compassionate, understanding, empathetic and caring to others--especially people going through hard times.  I hope that I too am a good example of a survivor for the people I meet. 

I actually began this post yesterday afternoon before heading to a card game with some of my new girlfriends.  While we were together the news arrived via a phone call that one of our mutual friends had just lost her son.  I had only met this woman three weeks ago.  A friend had told me privately that this woman had lost a daughter to cancer and a son in a car accident caused by a drunk driver and that she was a very caring person in spite of it all.  The news we received last night was that her last living child had been found dead in a nearby creek. Helicopters over our neighborhood in the late afternoon had been searching for him.

Those of us gathered for an evening of cards, good conversation and laughter found ourselves crying, hugging and praying together.  We needed each other.  Women I have known for less than a year shared the deep grief and pain we knew our friend would bear now that all of her children were gone.  Sharing the good and the bad is how we all continue on.

Survivors are we.  All of us here in our retirement community have survived any number of life's hardships.  The older we get, the more we have seen.  There is wisdom that comes with age.  Fortunately there is still a generation alive on this earth that is older than me.  I enjoy being with them because I continue to learn from them.  Even though their bodies are old and frail, they are as solid as the cedars of Lebanon because they know how to stand strong in the face of adversity.  They know that no one is perfect.  They know that life goes on.  They know how to forgive.  They live one day at a time.  They know how much we need each other. 

I am glad  to be here amongst the cedars in central Florida.  What I thought was a land of fun and games has become a great teacher.  There is a wealth of joy here in spite of (and because of) all we have survived.  I am blessed to be here.  This place where I can share my stories and what they have taught me--and--this place where I am surrounded by other "seniors" whose love, wisdom and support surround and teach me.





Siblings

I gaze adoringly, along with my brothers, at the newest member of our family--ANOTHER BOY.  The photo is darling, but I must tell you that when I heard, at the tender age of eight, that my newest sibling was another brother, I was quite disappointed.  I had dreamed of a baby sister to love and care for.  I thought it would be so much fun to dress her up like a little doll and be a second mother to her.

Obviously, when my youngest brother was a toddler, I did pretend he was a little girl and dressed him in the clothing of my Raggedy Ann doll.  Do you think I got a moment of satisfaction pretending he was a girl?  Perhaps, for a moment I smiled, but then again perhaps I was learning one of the many lessons one learns when having a sibling.  Maybe, just maybe, it was the first time I learned that you cannot make someone into something they are not.

The years have passed, so quickly it seems, from the age of innocence to retirement age.  And yet, I am still learning from my siblings.  This summer I learned to truly appreciate the gifts each of my siblings has, while overlooking some of the traits that have irritated me in the past.  Moving my Mother from her home to an Independent Senior Living facility and packing up a lifetime of memories, with the help of my brothers, allowed for my personal growth.

Things I thought I had already learned were learned again.  I learned to speak my own mind and I learned to listen to the ideas of others.  I learned how satisfying it is to work together towards a goal.  I learned that everyone contributes in his/her own way.  I learned that it is okay to have feelings and also that if I get my feelings hurt, I will still be alright.  I learned to respect others and to expect respect.  I learned that each person sees the world from a different vantage point, and that that is the way things are.  I learned compassion by being compassionate.  I learned patience by being patient.  I learned love by loving. 

But really, hadn't I learned all of those things growing up in a family with three other siblings?  Yes, I know that I had, but it was indeed a nice refresher course--one that was apparently needed.

Not only did I grow up in a family of four siblings, I helped produce a family that has four siblings--my own four children, one boy and three girls. 

I wanted a large family, just like my parents had because I realized that having siblings to share life's journey is one of the best teachers a person can have.  I wanted my children to learn the give and take that only comes by growing up with give and take.  I wanted them to learn that their opinion, although valid, is not the only one to be heard.  I wanted them to embrace diversity and yet love unconditionally.  I wanted them to learn that everyone falls short sometimes and also that by falling short, one can learn many valuable things.  I wanted them to learn the joy of forgiveness and the power of a hug. 

Without siblings, perhaps our flaws would never by pointed out.  Where else would we learn that we are not perfect, that we can sometimes be a jerk or that we are not as smart or as pretty or as talented as someone else?  I wanted them to learn that life isn't always fair. Siblings teach us so many things that prepare us for life in the real world.

I know I am still learning from my brothers.  They have each turned out to be wonderful multi-talented men who are an asset to the world.  Each is so different from the other!  Each of them show their love for me in different ways, but I know I am loved deeply.  Growing up with them certainly made me the person I am today and I am blessed to rest in my place in the family.

My hope and prayer for my own children is that each continues to love, appreciate and accept each of their siblings for who they are. I want them to cherish the fact that they are who they are today because of the influence of growing up in a large family.  I hope they can be themselves and acknowledge the strengths and diversity of each of their siblings. 

My advice to each of my children is to totally enjoy the times you are together with your siblings.  Relish the relationships you have.  Learn to live and let live.  Forgive and forget any hurts.  Love unconditionally.  Remember that contentment comes from within and bitterness only hurts yourself.  Don't wait until retirement age (or another minute) to love the way you want to be loved, accept the way you want to be accepted and appreciate the best in each of your siblings.  If you can do that to the people you share your parents with....then you can go do it for anyone...and what amazing people you will be in the world.

...and yes Rob, I have gotten over the fact that you are not a girl...and I love you just the way you are!  What a grand life lesson--to know that disappointments don't last forever--and that  things that appear so negative at first can help teach amazing love and acceptance.  Perhaps your coming into my life helped prepare me for the acceptance I would need in great quantity in midlife.  You have my love and appreciation always.....and Bill and Steve, you do too!

Family

I was eating lunch today at Baker's Square with a dear friend when my cell phone rang.  Ordinarily, out of respect to my fellow diners and my friend, I would not have taken the call.  After glancing at the phone, and seeing that it was my son calling, I immediately answered.  He lives in a far-away country and so I took the call without hesitation.

For ten minutes, the rest of the world melted away while I talked to my 35-year-old baby boy.  After discussing how life was going for each of us, he asked me what kind of pie I was going to have.  I must admit, I did get tickled over his question and when I told him my choice was Lemon Supreme, he asked me what that meant.  He wanted me to describe my choice to him.  I attempted to explain what the pie was like as I gazed at the flip chart photo on the table.  We said good-bye and I ordered my pie.

I shared the conversation with my friend seated across from me.  She smiled wisely and said, "The pie question is where you really connected.  That's what made the conversation meaningful.  That's what made him your boy."

She was right.  That funny little question had made me smile and feel connected half way around the world.

What is it that makes a family a family?  How does that connection work? I know it is much more than biology.  Yes, we all share the same DNA, but we share so much more as well.  We share ancestors and all the stories they have told.  We share the occasions of life itself and we share memories of many, many times together.  We share beliefs and ideas.

In the time and space of living together, something almost magical happens.  We begin to know so much about each other that we can often understand where the other person is coming from when no words are said at all.  A bond is formed while eating at the dinner table or playing a game together, and even if family members are separated, there is always a link that will bring back a memory and touch a heart.

I grew up with a mom and dad and three brothers along with many extended family members.  I then married and raised four children and now also have two grandchildren, a daughter-in-law and a son-in-law.  Each member of my family is unique.  Each member of my family is interesting.  Each member of my family has an opinion on everything.  Not one of them thinks exactly like the other one and not one of them thinks exactly like me. Their diverseness is a good thing.  

My family members love to laugh, and in general make jokes over almost anything.  Gathering together often brings lots of loud conversation, smiles and teasing.  We seem to find joy in the little things in life.  Other times conversation can be more serious and feelings need to be addressed.  And sometimes, there are difficult and painful times to share as well.  No matter what the situation however, we come together and support each other whenever possible.  We welcome new additions into our clan.  As life changes, our family grows.

Some of this vast array of characters lives far away from me, and from each other, and some of them live just down the street.  Each one enriches my life and makes me the person I am.  I care about them, pray for them and wish them every good thing whether I see them often or talk to them often or not.  After all, they are my family.  They help frame how I see the world.  They are part of my whole.  I believe that God designed my family and that He put us together for a purpose.

Growing together as a family is an ongoing process and a complex one indeed.  Distance sometimes make it more difficult to communicate just because we each get busy with our own lives.  But I believe that even then, when words remain unsaid, the bond of family continues and only a little spark, like the pie conversation, can help remind each of us of the love that has always been there--and will always be there.

So to each member of my family, wherever in the world you are, when you sit down tonight and eat dessert, pretend that I am sitting right there next to you asking you what kind of pie you are having.  Then know that what I am really saying is, "I love you and I always will."