"Unca" Dan

"Unca" Dan turns 90 on Christmas Day.  His birthday celebration is Wednesday, and I, regrettably will not be able to attend.  Thinking about his birthday has brought many memories to mind. 

I am a child of the '50s and '60s.  It was a good time to grow up, for while the '60s were a time of growing pains and turmoil in this country, I was protected from most of it.  We had a fairly insulated world of public school where most of our classmates were our neighbors, and the greatest diversity was found in which protestant church you attended regularly.  Some were financially better situated than others, meaning some had 2, or amazingly, 3 bathrooms and some of us only had one.

In the days of walking to and from school, riding bikes all over the neighborhood, and friends' parents correcting you when you misbehaved, I was blessed with "Unca" Dan and Aunt Sarah in my life.  Now, they were not called "Unca" and Aunt until I was grown because we called everyone older than ourselves Mr. or Mrs. Whomever.  As I became an adult, the Mr. and Mrs. Leech sounded so formal, but heaven knows, calling them Dan and Sarah would never work. That was just not propah! Thus, "Unca" Dan and Aunt Sarah were born. 

I met Mr. and Mrs. Leech through their daughter, Becky.  We met the first day of first grade, and became very good friends.  We had some adventures (Shelby Park Tennis CourtsJ).  Seldom, but sometimes we got crosswise with each other (the 1920's-tennis-skirt-styrofoam-cooler-on-the-head-falling incident - I still laugh when I think of it), but those did not last long.  Our parents had the good sense to stay out of it, and I always felt loved by the Leeches.  Becky had sisters.  I had brothers.  There is quite a difference. 

"Unca" Dan was a contractor, and so the Leech's actually had 2 bathrooms in their house, or 3 if you counted the one off the garage, which proved to be a welcome spot on a day of playing outside.  I was always a little afraid of that bathroom.  I was much more fascinated by the pocket door on the master bath.  I remember their house being huge, but I imagine if I walked in it now, it would not seem so.  In the den they had a "coffee" table made of a log.  It was known as "The Log!"  I learned at my mother's birthday party that it is still around, and there is some conversation as to what to do with it.  I think I heard talk of a Solomon solution; "cutting it in half." 

The Leeches had a big round table in their kitchen.  I shared meals with that family at that table on many occasions.  In the middle of it sat a little bottle of saccharin tablets.  I was always fascinated by that, and we were known from time to time to sneak some of Mr. Leech's little "sugar" tablets, and let them melt on our tongues.  I also remember high hilarity at that table, and when it got out of control, I was sent from the table just as if I were a Leech girl.  There is some chagrin and much comfort attached to such an event. 

Mr. Leech loved cars.  He bought Becky a red car that made a SmartCar look like a luxury sedan.   I do not remember what kind it was, but, if memory serves, we called it the Red Rooster.  A moderately strong teenage boy could have picked it up and carried it home.  I do not recall that it lasted long, but I do remember enjoying time spent in it.  There were other cars too.  Unlike my daddy, Mr. Leech bought vintage cars to fix up.  My daddy bought old cars that broke down.  Mr. Leech's cars were small and fashionable.  Daddy's were tanks!  Did I mention, I had brothers?  My daddy was a smart man!

The first time I saw the ocean as a teenager, I  was on a family trip with the Leech's.  It was at New Smyrna Beach.  It was amazingly fun.  I was with the Leech's when U.S. astronauts landed on the moon  I will never forget Mr. Leech insisting that we go to Cape Canaveral.  Seriously, we were at the beach.  Who goes on a sightseeing trip like that at the beach?  Can you fathom how stupid I was that I could not appreciate the fact that we were going to the very place from which the astronauts left earth to go to the moon?  Mr. Leech was not to be deterred, thank heaven.  I remember many things from that sightseeing adventure.  Above all, however, I remember how I felt at home.  I was not with my blood family, but I was with family nonetheless. 

I had a wonderful father and I have a wonderful mother.  I guess I did not need multiple sets of parents, or, perhaps I did.  Perhaps, we all do. 

So happy birthday to "Unca" Dan.  You are a lovely man, who just by being yourself have, along with the rest of your family, been a blessing in my life. 

For anyone reading this, I wish you an "Unca" Dan and an Aunt Sarah, and I wish you

blessings

A Maelstrom of Observations, Thoughts, and Feelings

Who to Trust:

Recently, on FB a picture was posted.  It was of a man and woman, who depending on your life filter, were either in an argument or a conversation.  Two different FB friends posted this, apparently in support of the article attached.  The paradox comes in the captions, and articles/video connected to the picture.  One caption read: "Christian Woman Praying to Christ Ejected From MUSLIM Prayers at National Cathedral."  The other caption (remember, same picture) read: " 'Christian' Verbally Assaults Muslims Gathered For Religious Unity to End Violence."  So, which is it?  I do not know, and I will never know because I was not there, and Heaven knows, I am not about to trust any one who might be reporting the incident...no one.  Without having the opportunity of knowing the people involved, I have no idea what motivations were driving the behavior.  Shoot, I often do not even know what motivations are driving my own behavior.  It just makes me wonder if any of the people reporting this event care one iota about a coming together to end violence, or are we all just so mired in our own belief system, we have no room for the other man's viewpoint?

Convictions:

I get all my news from FB and little snippets of the Today Show.  I really and truly despise the news.  I do not watch it, and I have begun to stop reading a lot of it on FB.  For example, the articles mentioned above, I did not read them, the captions were enough to let me know there would be great bias in the reporting.  I find that the news can depress me, or cause me to feel alarmed and afraid.  In addition, I cannot do a thing about it.  Instead, I read blogs.  Blogs by Patrick Mead that make me analyze my own approach to religion and spirituality.  These are things I can change.  I cannot change the violence in the world - or, perhaps, if we self-proclaimed Christians, of which I am one, would actually live our lives like the Jesus we claim to worship, the entire world would change.  Sometimes, I think we are so verbal and critical of other faiths and thoughts because we just are not totally convinced of our own.  If those people have anything right, then how can I be right?  Maybe it is not about being "right."  Maybe it is about embracing and loving and trying to understand all people regardless of race, nationality, beliefs, and lifestyles.  It is my belief that can be done without sacrificing one's own beliefs and convictions.  Really, is there anything more compelling than a person who lives out their convictions without talking about them and imposing them on others?

Expectations:

Recently, on FB (I know, a major time-suck in my life), a friend asked how an event went that he could not attend.  Someone responded, "about like you would have expected."  I literally (not the "literally" that the man on the radio meant when he said, "there were so many planes waiting to take off, it was literally a train.") put one forefinger on my nose, pointed the other one and yelled, "ding, ding, ding, ding, Bingo!"  I know that seems a bit dramatic, but were truer words ever spoken? Things generally go the way we expect them, because that is what we are looking for.  It would be foolish of me to project what that particular person meant by the comment.  Perhaps, he expected the event to go very well and he was quite pleased.  Perhaps, he thought it would be a fiasco, so it was.  Perhaps, he thought it would accomplish very little, and in his mind it did.  Expectations are very powerful!

Sexiest Man:

As if violence around the world, hungry children, people dying of Ebola, weather states of emergency, are not enough, the newscasters are all a buzz with the "sexiest man alive."  Not being personally acquainted with the recent awardee of such an outstanding honor, I cannot comment on his worthiness.  Perhaps it is my age, but give me a man who looks good in a suit, whose face lights up at the sight of his grandsons, who recognizes when a friend has no place to go for Thanksgiving and invites him to join us, who empties the dishwasher and cleans up the kitchen, who cooks the cornbread for Thanksgiving dressing, who gains much more pleasure by what he gives than receives, who has a kind and quiet spirit, who watches the tiny TV in the bedroom when The Voice is on, who has a hilarious sense of humor, who just might be blind to his wife's aging appearance, who has a servant's heart.  Now, that would be the sexiest man alive, and if one should happen to be acquainted with such a fellow, one should feel very grateful. 

Traditions:

This, I think, will be the first year that I am totally responsible for the turkey, dressing, and gravy for the 30 or so who will be here for Thanksgiving.  It is the general consensus that no one, and I mean no one, makes dressing as good as my mother's.  Of course, she has no recipe to follow, and a little of this and a little more of that is relative, and when added with a lighter or heavier hand, can produce a not-so-good result.  So, I have decided that I will not try to emulate my mother's dressing,  I will research, use a bit of common sense, and come up with my own concoction.  Unless it is just inedible, everyone will be kind, and Thanksgiving dinner will be enjoyed.  THAT is my expectation, and perhaps, a new tradition will be born. 

Of course, my mom will be here, but recovering from pneumonia at age 90 is a relatively slow process, and she has so many other events coming up that, for this year at least, she is passing the torch.  These things happen a little at a time.  The first year we had family Thanksgiving at our house was an accident.  Mom called that Thursday morning, and said her turkey had been in the oven for like 7 hours, but it wasn't done.  Did I think her oven was not working?  Yep, yep, that is what I think.  So, Mr. L and I went across town, gathered food, and dishes, and silver, flowers, and linens, brought them to our house, and Thanksgiving at the Switzers was born.  It was hard for her to give it up, but it hasn't diminished her enjoyment of the Thanksgiving gathering,  After all, isn't it about the people we are with, and not the food or the decorations or the location?

So, on this beautiful, cold November day, I wish you people you can trust, well-lived convictions, great expectations, an ever-evolving viewpoint on the "sexiest man," and I wish you a joyful and grateful heart as you create new Thanksgiving traditions or revel in the old, and, as always, I wish you

blessings

Random Musings

This blog is the result of a request.  Not a request because my writing is so brilliant, but because a friend stated that whenever she checks to see if I have posted a new blog what always comes up is "We Are All Bastards."  She is tired of seeing that.  I will interject here that she is always kind and complimentary about my blogs, so it was not a serious complaint.  Thus, this post is being birthed as I write. 

Saturday was a great day.  I spent it with my friend, Nancy, shopping, eating, and seeing a wonderful production of "Steel Magnolias," in which a friend played Ouiser.  She was excellent, as was the rest of the cast.  The set was so wonderfully pleasing to my eye.  I enjoyed the whole day. 

As we were leaving the restaurant where we had lunch, I heard, "Marilyn!"  It was a relatively new friend having lunch.  I went to introduce her to Nancy, and just drew a complete blank on her name.  She laughed, introduced herself, and made a funny comment about how she was my "reaaaaaaaaally" good friend.  I was mortified, but not really, because I knew I had not offended her.  She is just not a woman who walks around looking to be slighted and offended.  After a lesson on generosity at church yesterday, I sought out "Miss" Betty to tell her how much I appreciate her generosity of spirit.  You know what she said to me?  "You could not offend me, I love you too much."  And, there you have it. 

Later, Nancy and I ran into other friends of mine, one of whom I had not seen in a long time.  I introduced everyone.   The younger one said, "wow, you remembered my whole name."  I proceeded to tell them about the encounter with "Miss Betty."  I referred to Betty as a very good friend, to which one of them said, "as opposed to us, who are not your really good friends?"  She was teasing, but what I wish I had said to her was, "you are not just friends.  I love "Miss Betty," and she would do anything for me if I asked, but you, you people I have known for years, and you have done so much for me without my having ever asked."  That's what I wish I had said. 

Last week, my precious, adult lifelong friends (as opposed to Nancy who has been my friend since we were 5 years old - that's a looooooooooooooong time) Betsy, Dele and I had a small dinner party.  We invited some of the younger women at church who had expressed a bit of angst over getting to know people and finding their place.  It was a lovely evening.  There were precious young women here.  Betsy, Dele, and I simply tried to make some introductions, get to know some younger women ourselves, for they so enrich our lives, and possibly plant some seeds for future friendships.  Dele texted me yesterday, that two of those women, along with their families, were having lunch together.  Seed planted, and the watering has begun. 

Speaking of seeds (I warned this would be random), Simeon, Max, and I planted some jonquil bulbs yesterday.  Well, I dug the holes, they threw the bulbs in, I set them up straight so that they will actually grow, and I covered the holes with dirt and mulch while they played in the leaves with their Fizzy.  Hopefully, they will remember their "help" when spring comes and we have lovely flowers blooming.  If not, I will remind them.  Playing with Fizzy was the highlight of their day.

It is amazing to watch my adult children parent their children.  One set of parents is a bit stricter about diet than the other as they try to be sure that their son does not eat many sweets.  He did not go trick or treating, for he would not wear his costume, and they do not want him to eat the candy. What would have been the point? Besides, it was freezing!! The other grandson is allowed to eat candy on special occasions or as a special reward.  He did go trick or treating and loved wearing his costume, as well as his cousin's costume.  Everyone came to our house for dinner.  When the grandson who had been trick or treating arrived, he brought in his candy bucket, empty.  That did not go unnoticed.  His parents, in an effort to prevent causing his cousin sadness, encouraged him to leave his candy in the car.  There is so much right about that to me.  They certainly could have said, "just because he can't have candy doesn't mean you can't," or any number of "okay" things, but, instead they embraced a generosity of spirit, and put the other person first.  That is a life lesson far more valuable than most. 

The other grandson has a bear that he takes with him everywhere.  Big Brown Bear, is his name.  He loves that bear.  It is his special toy and friend.  He is encouraged, and often made to share toys, but Big Brown Bear is a special exception.  However, when his cousin becomes upset, I watch him walk over and hand him Big Brown Bear saying, "here,  Big Brown Bear will make you feel better."  You can see the difficulty it causes him to hand the bear over to his cousin, but his sweet spirit of generosity longs to console.  He is watching that, and learning that from his parents.  I relish those very special moments. 

So, random thoughts.  Nothing deep here.  Just thoughts from a wandering mind.  Now, off to work on Advent calendars for the little boys.  I love a good project. 

For today, I wish you spirits of generosity, and I wish you

blessings