Leaving a Stain

I am outrageous. Outspoken. Irreverent. Shocking at times. Inspiring. Funny and often hilarious (just ask me!) But I listen deeply to others and while often quick to interrupt in my enthusiasm (sigh) I really get the power of words. All of the things I mention at the beginning of this blog are not an apology.

I PRAY that God has a sense of humor and I'm not going to get a major wuppin' when I reach the pearly gates. (not worried, but it does cross my mind….just like when I walk into a room where I'm expecting a lot of people and see signs of people (notebooks, coats, personal items, etc., but no people). I've often thought in the last 26 years of my Christianity, "UH-OH! Armageddon has started and I MISSED that initial 'all the good ones rise into heaven' moment'.") Note from blogger: any Christians out there reading this – no scripture lessons necessary – I get the real message…..so just smile with me!

This weekend I was recovering from some gum surgery. And this is a direct shout out to DEAD RITA: thanks for those fabulous gums Mom!! I've often looked at the medical issues my parents had, and while I'm healthy I go through that checklist on the medical sheets you fill out and check all those little boxes! History of almost all the deadly medical sins – diabetes, heart disease, high blood pressure, cancer (even BREAST cancer for a grandfather!) and the list goes on. No additions – I don't think either one had any time left for them!! Once I wrote at the bottom of the page: This bloodline must be stopped!

This gum surgery's a doozy and no fun. I was talking with someone this weekend and had little patience. (that's it – strip my gums and then tell me I can't eat). Little tolerance was my M.O. I didn't tell this person how I truly felt because I knew I'd end up 'cleaning it up' later. I'd have to apologize for what I had said (true or not – because the spirit and tone of it would have been nasty).

And in that reflection I had a moment with a new angel of a friend that makes me laugh and think. We met up for a bit on Sunday. She not only was good for my soul she made me laugh so hard I was afraid I blew some sutures out of my mouth. Talk about the agony and the ecstasy! As we discussed what I WANTED to say but had refrained, we had that whole "you're entitled" conversation. And I said, "no – I won't feel better – I'll have said something that would hurt in an unnecessary and calculated way AND I'd have to go clean it up."

And then it hit me: words leave a stain that never goes away. You can scrub it (apologize); clean it (hope it eventually fades); and ignore it (and others wonder if you know what they see). Because some stains never truly fade. I don't want to stain people with words that hurt. I've definitely done it, and apologize if it's possible. But it's not always possible. And my words are the mark I leave. The mark you leave.

Just a thought about a stain.

Places to See Before I Die

I recently changed my homepage on iGoogle and took off all the news feeds. (BBC/CNN/WSJ) Although the BBC is one of my favorites – not limited to inane American newsflashes such as: "Superstar ****** seen leaving 7-11 with large Slurpee – what about the diet??!!" , it's too much. I want to know what's going on but the news feeds distract me and don't inspire me. I get the WSJ and CNN Breaking newsflashes on email as well (they're about to bite the dust too) but enough is enough. I want to be inspired!

What better way than to have added Places to See Before You Die as a tab! Fantastic pictures of places I have been or want to have been keep popping up! Carnival in Venice; Shingo-La Pass, Lakakh, India; Pyramids of Gizeh, Cairo, Egypt; Trunk Bay, St. John, US Virgin Islands; Half Dome, Yosemite NP, California…you get the idea.

Two things come from this virtual stroll through the world.

1). I am grateful for the amount of travel I have had in the world. And how often I am pleasantly surprised to see a place I have been and can now add to the "it's ok to die now" side of the list.

2). I love the fact that the world is so diverse and beautiful – and I am motivated to work – knowing that by being successful I will have the chance to visit all of the places that intrigue me, or return to those places that bring me joy.

Information overload is overrated. I get the news often enough through the paper and NPR radio that I'm truly enjoying my refreshed iGoogle home page. I've also noticed when I've traveled with very little English speaking TV available, I can usually get CNN The World. They cover the news of the world and if I try to get too much, I'm suddenly watching the same news stories two hours later. There's only so much that's truly newsworthy – and well covered, it doesn't have to take over my day (or screen). Now back to my regularly scheduled Sunday.

Looking back at the last 30 years

I purposely don't spend a lot of time looking back. When I was in high school, I used to talk about the past all the time. And a great friend of mine named Tom whom I respected once looked at me impatiently and said, "Vicky you spend all your time talking about the past! Think about the future!" And with that, I was done looking at the past. But this week was an exception.

Back to the past. I spent four days in Ft. Wayne this week to attend my nephew's graduation from IUPU at Ft. Wayne in their fine arts program. Josh is the one that inspired me to begin this blog – to showcase Dead Rita and her wisdom. (That previous blog is the first one in April 2008 titled Take Your Art to the World.)

I don't go back to Ft. Wayne, Indiana much. It's a great place to be from, but I wanted out of Ft. Wayne since I was about 10. Mr. Papa was from New York City and I have a New York state of mind. My goal was to get to New York….I made it as far as Cleveland when I married John and then we ricocheted to the West Coast when we moved to Oregon in 1982. Still love living in Oregon but I also feel whole and as if I'm home when I walk down the streets of New York. Ft. Wayne, not so much.

But I would go there anytime to see my brother and his family. As I sat in the Memorial Coliseum Wednesday night and watched Josh graduate, I went back to 1981 when I sat in the same coliseum and graduated from the same school with a degree in business, major in accounting. John and I had not married – that would happen 3 months later. But he was there, sitting with Dead Rita and Mr. Papa, watching. He had graduated college years earlier and he came from Cleveland to watch his young fiancé get her diploma. He later said to me, "Vic, you talked through the WHOLE thing!" I've always felt bad about that. Like I'd done something wrong. But sitting there in the stands, I noticed EVERYBODY was talking during the dutiful reading of 1,500 + graduates! (except when Josh's name was called and we cheered like maniacs!) Even all of the professors and heads of the departments on stage! "HA!" I thought! There was nothing wrong with me talking 27 years ago! That alone was worth the price of admission (free – but that's not the point!) I called John on my cell phone back in Oregon during the reading of the names to tell him that I was sitting in the same coliseum where he had watched me 27 years earlier graduate and BY THE WAY – EVERYONE is talking so HA! (he laughed, told me he loved me).

My life flooded back over me and I was again amazed at this journey and where it has lead. I always tell young people don't even try to guess where you'll be in 20 years….you'll be wrong. Never in a million years would I have guessed we'd move to Oregon less than a year after I'd married. That I'd NOT become a CPA but instead reach goals beyond my imagination. That 27 years later I would not regret marrying a man with 4 teenagers but instead would revel in the joy this family would bring to my life. That I would return to Ft. Wayne to watch my brother's eldest son graduate in a field that Dead Rita had encouraged him to pursue, and that yes indeedy, he was taking his art to the world! That Rita and Mr. Papa would both be dead and it would matter deeply to me that they were no longer present to share these milestone moments.

I raced home to Oregon Thursday eveing so that I could speak Friday morning in one the most important speeches I have given to date. Not for its content, but for its audience. I had the joy of speaking at the conference for the Guardian/Conservator Association Conference, the organization that I co-founded 20 years ago and served as its first President. Another look back.

My work as a guardian/conservator was born from a desire to be at home with the kids after we moved to Oregon. Teenagers appear to me to need some supervision. And my personal big dream at the time of becoming a CPA would have to wait. It's still waiting. I needed something to do that would be meaningful but keep me close to home. That business, which began in 1983 and closed in 2000 significantly altered my life's work and gave me wisdom and knowledge that serves as a clear thread to today.

And the image of saffron threads comes to mind. They are so fine and delicate….and yet they dramatically affect the flavor of any recipe. Saffron comes from the saffron crocus. It takes 75,000 blossoms or 225, 000 hand-picked stigmas to make a single pound of saffron which explains why it is the world's most expensive spice. It takes so little to make add a significant flavor in a dish.

And so it is with our life. It's the little things. The ability to look at the past and see those seemingly insignificant moments in retrospect that give meaning to today. It was a wonderful week. And not just because I got to spend time with my brother and his family. Or that I got to see old friends and new faces of those who want to make a profound difference in the lives of the elderly who are most vulnerable.

But because I remembered once again that our future is profoundly shaped by our past. And it takes away the fear of what the future holds. I was never right before about where the present would lead and I am certain that is not changing! But for now, it's back to the future.

Happy Mother's Day Mini-me. You complete me.

It seems as though 10 years should be long enough to mourn. Long enough to lessen the feeling of loss. Long enough to stop thinking of someone almost, if not every, day. But it's not. Not in my experience. But that is not really about the loss. It is about the love.

I loved Dead Rita so richly, so completely, so well. And she returned the favor. I loved Mr. Papa also very deeply….but he has only been gone a bit over two years and he is not present with me the way she continues to be. And those are just the facts.

When Dr. Evil looks at Mini-me and says, "Mini-me, you complete me" in Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me (1999) I laugh out loud. No surprise. I live out loud. And in that silliness of that line, I realize Dead Rita was my Mini-me – she completed me.

And I am not alone in feeling completed by another human being. That is just what happens when any two people are simpatico. That is just the easiest of relationships in our lives. But by far not the only one or sometimes even what we need. I would guess if I needed Dead Rita to be alive, she wouldn't be dead. And then I wouldn't be calling her Dead Rita. (and Live Rita's Wisdom just wouldn't be as interesting!)

I think of Mother's Day in a selfish manner. No Mother to celebrate and cherish. As a stepmother, it's always been a hard day. Some of my kids remember me on that day, others don't. And that is truly ok. I'm not their mom. I am their stepmother. And I have loved them all deeply for 27 years. They know that. They know that I know they know that. And that's good enough for me. Yet I look for deeper meaning in this life.

Then last night my perspective was once more broadened and I am richer for it.

Last night I heard Stephen Lewis, former Canadian Ambassador and UN Special Envoy for HIV/AIDS in Africa. He founded and is now working for an international advocacy agency organization, AIDS-Free World. The subject was the AIDS pandemic and its truly unspeakable and unbelievable affect on the children of Africa. About the strain children in Africa often feel to survive. About the daily challenges of living that we as Americans can rarely, if ever, imagine. About how a child In Africa struggles to understand how their mother could die before their eyes from the ravages of AIDS. And they may be the only one to see it or care. The facts and figures of this work cannot be written here….it's too much. But we must become aware of how there is a subterranean racism that allows the world to turn its back on AIDS in Africa – and yet we can afford to spend billions on a war in Iraq. Become more educated by looking at Stephen Lewis' site: http://aids-freeworld.org/

And what does this have to do with my Mother's Day message? Everything. All of us become children once again when our Mother dies. Sometimes for a moment, sometimes for a lifetime. Grief is so personal. So private. And yet we feel another's pain if we are watching with our soul. I listened last night with my soul. I felt the grief of a child losing their mother that didn't have to be. That a motherless child is never the same. We must look at what is happening around the world with the AIDS pandemic, especially in Africa and choose to do more. It is our responsibility and our ability that will lead to answers. Don't wait for governments or celebrities to fix this. You choose to help, in any way you find most empowering.

To any of you who read this and are now a motherless child, you are acknowledged. If your mother completed you, how fortunate you are. If you are completed by another person living or dead, be wise to that. And if you have not had that experience of being completed by another, consider that you may complete someone else through who you are to them.

Happy Mother's Day, to the mothered and the motherless.

Unexpectedly Grateful

I do not know what came over me today. The weather is crappy. I have a ton of things to do. And I was just down. John and I went out to lunch and I was itching for…not a fight…but an opportunity to be discontented.

Smart man: he didn't play into it. Then we came home, I took out one of my famous 50/50 pies (half blueberry/half cherry with a pie fence crust and lattice top) – (really, I should patent these babies!) and then to the grocery to get things tonight to take to a friend's home for dinner and items for a dinner tomorrow night to host some people who are headed to Rwanda at the end of May.

After a lovely shopping experience of all things fresh and organic, we sat while I had a coffee at New Seasons. I was watching people, thinking about their lives, what their story might be. A woman at least my age found a table and tentatively looked at a job application for the grocery store. She looked so damn tired. And I thought how difficult her life must be – she had that energy. And I rarely feel sorry for anyone, but I felt sorry for her. And I thought I'm tired too, but I'm sure it's different for her.

Dead Rita was always "tired tired tired" as she would say. And she looked at her life in many ways as not being the life she wanted. And as I thought about my life and all of the demands on me that I have created, none of that is true for me. This is the life I want. I have created all of these demands. There is nothing - nothing I am doing that I do not choose to do. And in that revelation, in that moment, I looked at my beloved husband and was overcome with a sense of gratefulness for the life I have.

A far cry from the discontent I had felt only an hour earlier. And as I write this I go from grateful to empowered. And my thought becomes: bring – it – on! Bring on the challenges, the opportunities, the failures, the success. And I'm reminded that I can create an amazing life full of moments of discontent and moments of gratefulness. And that's a good day for me.

The End of my Jubilee Year

It's amazing that as humble as Dead Rita's beginnings were, she named a daughter in 1957 after Queen Victoria! And I've always known it. I knew that Victoria meant victorious. I knew that Queen meant Queen. And I cozied up to it! And she never called me VICTORIA DIANE! when I was in trouble. Not that I got in that much trouble. A pretty good kid….and when I wasn't good, I kept it quiet.

I've always felt an expectation to succeed. In many families it is spoken. In mine, it was understood. And so I met and exceeded Dead Rita's expectations and mine as well.

One of the great things Dead Rita did was celebrate her family. My birthday is May 31^st. In the 'good old days' Memorial Day was always the 30^th of May. So we would always go to the Memorial Day Parade. And I always imagined it was a parade for me! (no illusions of grandeur there!!)

We'd celebrate my BD on the 30^th. And then on the 31^st I'd celebrate AGAIN. I eventually (and still ) grew to celebrate my birthday the entire month of May! But I'm tough: it ends promptly at midnight on May 31^st. June celebrations for me lack that 'birthday' feel. But any and all events in May are sanctioned.

Last May 31^st I turned 50 and declared it my Jubilee Year – 50^th year celebration just like….wait for it….the QUEEN! It was a good year!

I went to Rwanda, loved my family, grew my business and most importantly, wrote Dead Rita's Wisdom. It's done and now it's in the rewrite stage. I'm very excited about it and sharing her wisdom.

A strong part of her was celebrating those she loved. I strive to do the same. I love giving someone a round of applause - literally or figuratively. So let's hear it for the little victories. The overcoming of unbelievable obstacles. The joy of the moment.

And the importance of sharing wisdom. That must be celebrated. And so as I prepare to enter my Jubilee più un, may I not forget to celebrate – for myself and others.