“Me Proveró”

In Italian this means- I’ll try - something I would not have known had I not been facebook chatting with a friend of mine in Italy when my Starbucks neighbor began speaking on his phone. I’m not sure what else he said… I was more interested in chatting with my friend than in trying to decipher the phonetics of his Italian. But I do know that, unbeknownst to him, and not really knowing what they were talking about, I found myself sending nice thoughts to him and his caller.

It seems weird to me that we live in an age where the technicalities of communication are so simple. I still remember a time when my mother would have me write letters to my grandparents, or a Sunday phone call was a big deal. In the hall of my home there even stood an antique phone, where you had to wind the lever to reach the operator. It no longer worked. But it was a wonderful plaything, a spot to perch toys, and a frequent obstacle when exiting our rooms. (I frequently bumped my head on it.) To my nana though, it must have been like a phone with a cord is to me: a link to friends in the past.

But while the act communicating has become easier, the communication itself feels more difficult. Even discounting a world where speaking with someone in a foreign country (who speaks another language) is like shouting up the stairs for my daughter, using multitudes of vehicles for expressing myself can become burdensome. Phone, cell phone, email, Twitter, text , blogs, comments, Facebook (fan and personal pages), chats within just about any of these channels – the list goes on. And, what works for one person doesn’t for another. Does someone like to text with me or Facebook, or email or speak in person. I have to try to remember this, or inundate them via multiple channels.

And although all of these avenues make me feel connected in a way I never have before, they also are misleading. I feel close to my Italian friends, but am really not part of their life in any meaningful way. I think I know what is important to my local friends by checking their Facebook posts, and then find they had a major surgery or took a life-changing trip, from their Holiday card.

My comfort zone still lies in personal interactions. So, although my trip this summer is primarily to go to England… I suddenly find myself considering a side trip to Italy. I don’t know if I will be able to swing it, but as I told my friend there, “Me proveró.”

I’m still waiting to hear about your favorite or planned trips. Leave a comments and let me know what journeys have inspired you and I will enter you into a drawing to win a copy of any one of Daniel Davidson's Travel Free Guides to one lucky commenter during the month of January. Leave your comment and then check back at the end of the month to see if you won. Good Luck and Happy Journey.

P.S. In case you haven't found him yet, Daniel Davidson is a travel writer with great advice on saving money while traveling. Check him out at his website: http://www.freetravelideas.com/

“Wow, that’s a lot of Nike Stores.” Said while looking at a map of the Nike World HQ
Campus.

Today I had my first training session with Alex Molden, a previous college and NFL player who is helping me get physically ready to kick a field goal. You can find more about my project on my UNTANGLING THE KNOT – field goal vlog.


The topic of this overhear is about seeing the world the way children see it. My overhear was said by my daughter whose frame of reference for Nike is strictly consumer oriented. I am sure, if she saw the campus for Costco or Hasbro she would have the same reaction.

It amazes me that the brain is all about connections… and that this is what learning does for us. She understands that people work, but hasn’t yet made the connection that a World Headquarter is made up of people creating
the business. Especially for her, work refers to something that her dad does mostly from home or I do, well, mostly at Starbucks.

Check out the website, Brain Connection, which has a plethora of information on how the brain works, and is much better qualified to explain it than me. One article they posted recently follows the day in the life of a child, exploring how mentally complex living is. Reading this I was struck by how much we take for granted in performing even simple tasks. And, while we spend a great deal of time conditioning our body, once we are out of school we stop focusing on conditioning our brain.

So, here are a couple of brain teasers (courtesy of Brain Connection) to work those brain muscles. Once you have completed them be sure to stretch and relax your brain with meditation… or a nice long nap.

Platyhop
The flower turns white and makes sound. Click on the flowers in the same order they light up to tell Platy where to hop. If you do it right, all the flowers will turn green while Platy hops.

Rapid Naming
How fast can you name an object, a color, a letter, or a number? Get your hand on the mouse, and get ready to start naming!

Word Wanderer
Travel the road less taken by spelling your path to mystical castles and treasures in the sky. Become Jack the word slayer.

Dress the Doggie
Help Soupy get dressed! Soupy the Dog tells you what color to paint his clothes. If you color them correctly, you can select more clothes

Good Luck!

“It’s good karma.”

It was kind of the firefighters to stand in the rain with me while I waited for a public service person (aka police officer) to arrive and take care of the dog I had found wandering, lost, cold, and limping along a neighborhood road. Given the fact that the dog was also blind and had what was obviously a tumor on her stomach and hind leg, it was no wonder she looked worn out and sad.

The firefighters hung out with me and my daughter for at least half an hour, until eventually the police officer came to claim the dog. After slowly walking her up and down the road and offering the dog reassurances for that time I found it difficult to see the police car door shut, with her confused once again inside.

“It will be okay,”I told her, all the while knowing that, without a collar and looking so sick, chances were good they would not find an owner and she would be euthanized. In fact, as my daughter and I prepared to get in the car and leave, the officer asked if I would like to be notified before they euthanized. I shook my head hesitantly, sadly, guiltily.

Of course it only took a moment for my daughter to ask what euthanize meant. Most Catholics do not believe that animals have souls. And so, they would not go to heaven. This is one doctrine, though, about which I am not sure. Of all God’s creatures animals seem the most holy to me sometimes. Certainly this dog did, as she limped along maintaining her dignity even as I think she sensed her own death. Perhaps she had faith, as I explained to my daughter, that she would soon be in a better place.

I am not sure what that place looks like, either for myself or for that dog. It may be as W. Bruce Cameron fictionalizes in his book, A DOG’S PURPOSE, that she will come back again, to live another new life as a dog. Or perhaps, Like the animals in C.S. Lewis’ NARNIA series, she will pass over to a better place.

Wherever she lands I hope that her body was at least able to sense what her eyes could not see, that for even a brief time she was loved, by three firefighters, an eight year old, and me.

“My whole family calls my grandmother Oma.”

Being a grandparent is a funny thing. I should know, since I was one. Wait! Not like that! My daughter’s only eight. But years ago her darn stuffed animals didn’t know what to call me. If she was Mama, then what was I? Gramdma, obviously. NOT! Believe me I nipped that in the bud quick.

Still, the fact that my reaction was so severe tells me what it might be like years from now when she finally does have a child. It is one of those milestones which is both exciting and a scary all at once. I look forward to the freedom of it. The ability to watch from afar and laugh at the many trials I am sure her own progeny will put her through. I pray that she has a fun and loving husband to help her with those. And I also pray I will be able to
stand far enough away that she makes her own mistakes, but close enough that she always knows I have her back.

AT the same time, since we got started late on our family, the day this happens may be so far in the future that I will be too blind to see it. We joke that at her wedding my husband will need a cane to walk her down the aisle. Since I hope she gets to enjoy those early days with her husband, free of children, how much older will we be when we turn up our hearing aides to hear the patter of tiny feet.

Still, there is hope that I will at least be able to remember my grandchildren’s names. Last week I saw a news post by the NY Times about the role that brain degeneration has plays on memory loss as we get older. (link). It is nice to know that, someday, if I connect electrodes to my head every night at bedtime, I’ll be able to wake up remembering that the little voice who calls me grandma on the phone is not actually one of her stuffed animals pretend talking.

“We saw Menopause the Musical here. It’s the kind of show you have to see with girlfriends.”

Hormones are interesting, don’t you think? When we are young, they make us do crazy things. And then, when we get older, they make us do even crazier things. In between they drive us nuts twice a month (ovulation and PMS
in case you aren’t as attuned to these times as I have become). 
 
I don’t get it. I’m not technically going through the big change yet (no, not from Ellen to Oprah – I’m talking about menopause), but I already get night sweats. Last night they came on so strong I was actually sweating inside my ear, something I didn’t even know could happen.

What environmental factor, exactly, is all of this craziness supposed to be supporting? I mean, couldn’t we get our period without also wanting to shoot the person with a full cart who got into line at the grocery store just before we did? Wouldn’t you think God could have made it so that, in puberty, we could start to think guys are sort of worth our time without also needing to wear water-proof mascara in case our hair clip slips loose?

When my sister and I talked about menopause she assured me that until I went everywhere in flip-flops I had nothing to worry about. This seems like a reasonable, if somewhat terrifying, marker. What sort of extreme biological fluctuations must be happening inside women’s bodies for our body temp to go up so bizarrely high? The closest I might compare it to would be the way my body began to sweat and shake when I injured myself and was in severe  pain. Could it be that our bodies are responding to exactly that sort of crisis?

The only sure conclusion I have reached is that Mary, the mother of God, must have been on the younger side of 40 when Jesus died. Because, I am sure that, had she gone through the wonderful joys of menopause before he died,
she would have made it a priority for him to get the system fixed.