42 Going on 43 (Birthday Thoughts)

Happy Birthday Eve to me.

Tomorrow...
I will celebrate my
very insignificant
rarely celebrated
mild and bland
43rd birthday.

There are no big 43rd Birthday Parties.
There are no Hallmark cards with glittery "43"s on the front.
There are no invitations, plates, coordinating napkins or wall decorations
with MY age on them.

43 is just an age.
Not a big deal.
43:
not-quite
half-way
through the 40s
...to 50

But I am celebrating it,
nonetheless.
I am celebrating being 42
and
becoming 43.

I am still becoming.
I am still on my way.
I am looking at me
looking at my life
looking at my future
looking at my relationships
my family
my purpose
my wants and needs
and my heart.

I am looking back
and looking forward
with wonder
and questions
and hope
and peace
and a sense of being able to breathe deeply
about where I am
where I have been
and where I am going.

I lost my mother before her 58th birthday.
I had time with her.
I had time to learn from her.
I had time to listen to her.
I had time to watch her pass from this life to the next.
I was given the opportunity to witness her death,
to be taught by her,
how to face death and
even how to welcome it.
And leave this life,
this world
behind.
She taught me how to pass away,
with dignity and grace.

And I appreciate the lesson.
I value what she taught me.
But.

But there is a part of me,
that I know really would have liked to witness
her grow old.
I would have loved to see how she aged.
Not simply because I miss her.
Not simply because I long to have her in my life...
but because I would have liked to see
and experience
and learn
more about aging.
About how aging tempered her
strengthened her
gave her greater perspective
and deeper love
and who she became in her years beyond 57.

And so,
as I complete another year,
and look out at the year--
the age
on the horizon,
I choose to focus even more
on becoming.
I choose to focus more on listening
and questioning
and seeking
and understanding
and loving
and caring about
and knowing
myself
and
others.

I was given a gift,
when I lost my mother.
I was given the gift of perspective.
I was given the gift of appreciation.
I was given the gift of hope
and inspiration.

And I live with an understanding
that life is short.
Oh.so.very.short.
And that I have a life to live
and people to love
and a son to raise
and daughters to nurture.

Along with countless other life lessons,
My mother taught me how to die.
She taught me how to face eternity
and cross over...
I want to teach my daughters
To Live.

Not how to live...
but
to live.

I want them to see in me;
now
in the future
(and from the days of the past they have been witness to)
that I lived.
That I was alive.
That I was aware.
That I was awake.
That I worked on myself...

and loved the results.

I want them to see that I loved the results
of the life I lived.
Loved my crow's feet and smile lines
Loved my stretch marks and age spots
Loved my victories and embraced my failures.
That I loved the results of the risks I took
the people I loved
and even the mistakes I made.

I want them to see that
I forgave
and trusted
and welcomed
and cared.
That I was kind
and gracious
and classy
and open-hearted.
And free.
I want to see that I lived in freedom.

I want them to see that I was alive
and that I lived my life
with all I had
all of my heart
and all of me.

I have done my best with that so far.
I have learned to love 'being."
...love being a woman
...love being alone
...love being me.

But I want even more.
I want even more from myself.
I want even more for myself.
I want to be a better version of myself.
I want to keep growing
deepening
developing
and becoming.
Every day of this next year.

And so,
I am celebrating the past year.
And ringing in the next one!
I am wishing myself a very Happy Birthday!

And many, many more.

Happy Birthday to me! Can't wait for 43!

Daddy's Girl

I often write about my mother in my posts.
What she taught me
How much I miss her
The way she cared for me
and how, the woman I am today
is so much the result of what was created in me
by being her daughter.

But, she is but a part
of what has and who have
collaborated
in the making and forming of
me.

Her partner
in all those efforts
Her companion through the years
when she was mothering me,
turns 74 today,
and
I want to celebrate him
now
here
today.

I have often felt (and said)
that I had the best father
a little girl
and
teenager
could ever have.
I was loved
fathered
daddied
and "grown"
by a
strong
tender
loving
devoted
attentive
expressive
affectionate
masculine
good
Man.

He hugged me
held my hand
talked to me
asked about my thoughts
and my feelings.
He took me on dates
defended me
protected me
shielded me
stood up for me
fought for me
listened when I cried
helped with broken hearts
wrote to me in college
called me on the phone
bought me jewelry

and told me
I was beautiful
and that he was proud of me
and that he loved me
and that he liked me
and that he trusted me

He disciplined me when I needed it.
He was strict and steady
He spent time with me
built me a dollhouse
taught me to drive
helped me with the Science Fair in first grade
explained geometry
took me to the store for nail polish for my senior prom
painted my nails for me when I was five
brushed my hair
played Barbies when I asked
took me to the beach
made my brothers pour my milk because the gallon jug was too heavy
opened the car door for my mother
sold me his car for a dollar
and carried me on his shoulders when my legs got tired.

I love my father
my dad
my daddy

I have his shoulders
his frame
his Cherokee skin
his nose
his emotions
I have his temper
and his strength
my hands look like his

and
I believe
about myself
all the things
he told me
about me....
That I am worthy of love
that I should be cherished
and cared for
and taken care of
That I am strong
and capable
but that I need
and should
be
loved.

I cannot remember a time when he
criticized me
or put me down
or failed to support me.

I watched him love my mother
and spend his days off
taking her to lunch
and helping her with the grocery shopping.
I watched him vacuum the floors
and work on the tractor
and rig repairs on our cars
and clean out the garage.
I listened to him preach
and pray
and counsel
and train
and serve communion
and get hurt
and get angry
and lose
so much

and
continue.

I believe about myself
the things he showed me:
that I can be a woman
and still be smart
and confront when I need to
and take a stand
and stick up for myself
I believe, because of him,
that I don't have to be afraid
that I don't have to be weak
or ashamed of anything.
That I can and should
wait
on love,
but be ready TO love
all the time.

Because of him,
I know I can be me.
I can be 100% of ME
and not hold back
or tone down
or hide
or pull away
or change
or conform
or give up
my confidence
my personality
my uniqueness
because it might make someone uncomfortable
or feel threatened
or uneasy.

Because of him,
I am secure
and confident
and prepared.
And, long before a boy
or a man
ever said he loved me
or actually did love me,
I knew.
I knew I was worthy of love.
I knew I was love-able.
I knew I was loved.
I already knew love...

because I was
so
so
so
loved by my dad

and by
my Father.

I know the love of God
because I was loved here
by my Daddy.
He has pointed me to God
time
and
time
again.

He has loved me
the best
the most
and the deepest

and I love him
with all my heart

Always.
Happy Birthday, Daddy
I am thankful
I have had you as a father
and wouldn't want to have been
loved
raised
taught
protected
shielded
or daddied
by anyone else.

I am so grateful
I am
your daughter,

From your Princess,
Becky

On Being Ugly

Pretty is, as Pretty does.

So does Ugly.

I have come across a slew

a generous amount

a very sad heap

of Ugliness

lately.

I have been feeling

Ugly.

I have been

feeling

the ugliness

of

others,

the inner

anger

disappointment

sadness

unhappiness

and even

vengeance

of people who

are truly, deeply

without a doubt

riddled with 

inner ugliness.

And no,

they are not even being ugly to me.

I am not the target of their ugliness.

I am an observer.

I encounter them

in the lives

of people I love.

I had a wonderful, gracious mother

who, upon hearing me

speak badly of someone else

spout off a sarcastic remark

or belittle another person,

would simply say,

"Rebecca. Don't be ugly."

I'd joke in response and add,

"Uh, Mom. This is the only face I've got.

I'm doing the best I can..."

She'd sigh and shake her head.

Ugly is not a commonly-used word.

It's certainly not a polite term to use

in describing someone.

But

it's there.

They are there.

Women

Men

even some children

who are, for lack of a more delicate word...

ugly.

They are ready to fight,

claim their rights

complain

spout off

attack

mistreat

take another person down

destroy and reject...

because

of 

something

going on,

in 

their

insides.

We see the world

and react

out of

what is done to us,

in and through

our relationships

our work

our disappointments

our weaknesses

the way we are treated

and

everything else.

It's all based on

what 

is

inside

of us.

It's the "Glass Half Empty" Syndrome.

But it's our hearts, not a glass.

It's our past...

our hurts

our previous chapters

our broken this-and-thats

our neglected souls

our abandoned dreams

our 

disenchanted realities

unrealized hopes

unmet needs

and

drained expectations,

which siphon

our hearts

and leave us 

half

empty.

Which we

allow

to leave us

half empty.

We do have the power,

We are capable of holding on

to what is in our hearts.

We do have something else

that helps us retain,

even increase

what is in our hearts.

We are all equipped with stoppers

corks

and

plugs

to patch the holes,

stop the leaks

and keep our

hearts...

our selves.

Our peace.

Plain and simple.

Straight forward.

Blunt as I can make it...

forgive.

Forgiveness keeps our glass,

our hearts

Half-Full-and-Getting Fuller.

Forgiveness

Letting Go

Moving On

Accepting

Releasing

Loving

Allowing Change

Breathing in, Hope

Choosing Grace

Showing Mercy.

These

are

Beauty.

These are what

bolster my spirit

make me whole

set me free

strengthen my response

tenderize my words

light my countenance

and

manifest as beauty within.

These are the eyes

with which I want to view the world

the people I meet

the friends who disappoint me

those who hurt me 

and let me down

or weave themselves into my life,

taking what they want

spewing venom

delivering a cold shoulder

tossing judgements

withholding love

ignoring me or

spreading half-truths,

while

claiming righteousness

vindication

or justice.

I really don't want to be ugly.

I want to be lovely.

Lovely is even better than Beautiful.

Loveliness expresses herself in:

kindness

understanding

patience

compassion

strength

confidence

gentleness

dignity

and

class.

Yes,

Beauty is often only skin deep

and

Ugliness screams from the core of our hearts,

but

Loveliness....

Loveliness 

edifies

refreshes

smoothes and softens

harsh encounters with Half-Empty People,

with hurt and broken hearts,

who haven't yet learned to forgive and release

the past 

which drains them of their beauty and joy.

Today

and tomorrow,

and hopefully

even when I'm old and wrinkly,

I 

won't 

be 

ugly.

It's really just a choice.

I choose to do what 

I need to do

what I must do

what I can do,

to forgive

Now.

So I won't

ever

end up

Ugly.

I simply refuse to be ugly.

Love the One You're With

I've been thinking (again)
and feeling (again)
and choosing (again and again)
to love.

I am not one who has ever been closed
to love...
resisted
love...
avoided
love...
or given up on

love.

I have known all of my life,
that I am one who
deeply, deeply, deeply
needs love
thrives on love
seeks love
and basks in love.

I am one who needs love.
Needs to be loved
Needs to feel love
Needs to
give...

love.

And by love,
I mean
all
kinds
of love.

My connection to love,
my need for love
doesn't stem from starvation
or longing
or neglect
or emptiness
or having gone
without
or a lacking
within.

Love draws me in
calls to me
stirs inside
spurs me on
inspires
motivates
and moves
because...
because I am loved
I have always known love.

I have been loved by
loved on
loved through
loved openly
loved unconditionally
loved beyond
loved in spite of....
every
day
of my life.

Every, single day of my life,
I have known love
The Love of my God
The love of my parents
The love of my family
and friends.

I have lived a life of love.
Lived it.
Known it.
Experienced it.
Tasted and savored it.

And so,
I love.
I love...

And yet,
I have been finding myself needing
wanting
desiring
to increase
my
capacity
to love.

I know I am
(dare I say, we are)
capable of
so
much
more
Love
than we ever give.

I can love my children better.
I can choose to sit with them
and listen.
Really listen
to them.
I can stop.
Change what I am doing.
Check the tone of my voice.
Breathe in the scent of their hair after a bath
Search their snaggle-toothed smiles
Hold their dimple-knuckled hands
and love them.
I can tell them what I see that is good and growing
in them
and love them...more.
With more words of encouragement,
noticing them
watching them
speaking kindness to them.
Loving
Them....
who they are
what they feel
how they express themselves
in hurt
or anger
or dreams
or fears
or stories
or frustration
or questions.

I can love
my friends
my family
strangers in line at a store
acquaintances at a softball game
neighbors
co-workers
bosses
everyone

better.

I can be more loving.
I can be the best part of their day.
I can be the touch of love they need
the smile they didn't expect
the eyes that noticed them...
really saw them,
the laugh they didn't know was in their gut.

I know I am called to change the world
I know I can give my money away
I know I can take on projects
I know I can volunteer
I know I can serve
I know I can stand up and make a point
I know I can become more politically active
I know I can undertake some grand pledge
or make a noble sacrifice
or join a cause
or share a passion for justice
or gain attention for
things I do for Him
or in His name
or for His Kingdom
I know I can gain glory for
acts of courage
or
convincing speeches
or grand sermons
or demands for change and equality

but

now
today
so far,
lately
honestly
I am looking at me
and wanting
to
love

more.

I am wanting
needing
deciding
looking
for
love.

Ways to
tenderly
quietly
softly
sweetly
gently

love.

When I am gone
when I have finished this life
when my life is complete
I want people to say of me...

She loved me.
I want them to know
they were loved
by me.