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Life through Big Brown Eyes

Observations of life, with a smile…

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smileanyway66

Never let the crazy world steal your smile.

What Fifty Feels Like…

I loved turning 40. Usually that’s a pretty depressing turning point. But not for me. I was in a pretty good place in my head and comfortable in my skin. The physical “insecurities” had sort of faded away. To celebrate, I threw a party. 70 people, DJ, food, bar. It was pretty epic. 

Fast forward 10 years (and trust me, it went by REALLY fast) and I’ve turned 50. Many of my friends are turning 50 as well. We’re all joining what we’ve referred to as “the club” (like it’s supposed to be fun or something.)
Turning 50 has been a different experience than the liberation of turning 40. I still don’t think I “look it” (what is 50 supposed to look like anyway? Do any of us really know?) I’m not so much “comfortable in my own skin” as I really couldn’t give a crap. 
The biggest difference is an overwhelming sense of my own mortality. I am fairly certain that I now have less time left on earth than I’ve already spent. Could I live to 101? Never say never, I suppose. However, my gut tells me it’s unlikely. 
It’s an interesting sensation actually. I look at a few of my nieces and nephews that I have known since they were babies. I’ve watched them grow up into adults. Now some of them are having babies. When I hold these new additions, I contemplate the very likely possibility that I won’t see them as adults – and most definitely won’t see their babies. 

Another interesting and not entirely comfortable sensation is that the opportunities to do, to see, to go…are slowly slipping away. The clock is ticking on “Someday…” 
“Well,” you may say, “Do! See! Go!”

Perhaps…I’ll think about that. 

I am, by no means, throwing in the towel. I have relatives and friends that are vibrant in their 50’s, 60’s, 70’s – hell, my mother-in-law is 94 and she’s awesome. 
But reality is reality. No getting around it. 

So at the end of the day, what does 50 feel like? 

Like life is an Olympic sized pool, I’ve just done that cool somersault kicking off the wall thing that they do and I’m beginning the lap to the end. 

I hope it’s a good swim. 

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The Tangled Branches of My Family Tree

I have a very big family…and I’m not actually related to most of them.

There’s a conglomeration of exes, steps, halves, in-laws, in-laws of in-laws, exes of in-laws, lifelong friends, children of life-long friends, and so on and so forth.  I was never a mom myself, but revel in my roles as aunt, great-aunt, and aunt by osmosis, and sister by osmosis.  I’m blessed that I consider some of my family as friends, and some of my friends as family.

There are challenges in explaining the dynamic to someone who is new to the loving chaos.  Yet, once they begin to see the forest for the family tree, they’re fairly amazed that there is so much harmony in what really should be a 1980’s nighttime soap opera.  There’s no scheming, back-biting, or arguing.  It’s a large group of people who generally get along.

It’s not perfect.  No family is.  

There’s a missing branch here and there. That absence is felt keenly at times, but everyone else lends support to the person(s) impacted.  Sometimes it’s easy to feel a little lost in the shuffle.  With so many grey areas, it can be challenging to have a defined role, or be comfortable with my place.  I have a tendency to let the little green monster in when others get to spend time together and I’m not available or included (not that I necessarily should be – but the little green monster doesn’t make those distinctions).  It’s important, as my niece recently told me, that I insert myself (which kind of supports my jostling for position analogy.) I have a tendency to forget my nieces and nephews are tax-paying, home-owning, hardworking, child rearing adults themselves and try to boss them around.  That never goes well.  Distance can be a challenge.  Not everyone is within an easy drive.  Some live on the other side of the state, and some live several states away.

The beautiful part, and what makes us all family, is the history woven through each conversation.  The years of memories.  The knowledge- as Spock would say- that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, or the one.  What could be a hotbed of egos, resentments, and heartache is pushed off the table so that everyone can enjoy the children, and their children.

It doesn’t matter that my ex-brother-in-law’s first ex-wife’s daughter with her 2nd ex-husband is not actually related to me.  I’ve known her since she was little. It doesn’t matter that the mother-in-law of my nephew’s half brother (who, by the way I also consider my nephew as equally) will be considered an honorary grandmother to his daughter who is due to arrive in a couple of months. What matters is the history, the love, the laughter…and the openness to welcoming someone new, whether it’s a girlfriend, boyfriend, new spouse, or new baby.

And all of that is just my side of my family.  My husband’s side is a lot less complicated – but has its share of entanglements. They are a fun-loving group as well,that has always enveloped me as a member of the clan.As an adopted child, I learned very early that genetic relation is not required.  My family tree, with all of its complicated branches, continues to constantly prove my assertion that love is stronger than blood.

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It’s hard to smile anyway today. 

Less than a week ago, Americans watched parades, oohed and ahhed at fireworks, and waved their flags. In the days since, technology and social media has presented us with images that have poured fuel on a society already on fire. 

There are those in social media, politics, and on the street using recent events to perpetuate generalizations which oversimplify and distort the situation. 

There is bad and good in every walk of life. I find it amazing and disheartening that folks will use sweeping classifications to promote their own agendas. Let’s break it down for a moment. 

Are all bankers bad? No. 

Are all gun owners bad? No. 

Are all members of a religion,race, nationality  (Muslim, African American, Mexican) bad? No. 

Are all police officers bad? No. 

These recent events need to be investigated, of course. There are unanswered questions that I won’t contemplate here. If Americans have concerns and choose to protest, the Constitution grants them the right to do so peacefully. 

It doesn’t matter what the political affiliation is – I know people, who are otherwise good, generous, and smart that will buy into one or more of these generalizations. They believe what the media and pundits tell them. They drink the Kool Aid of whoever is pouring. 

The harm in that? Someone can believe what they hear, climb to the top of a parking garage, and shoot innocent people simply because they “look like” the group they have been told they need to hate. 

I know bankers, Muslims, African Americans, Mexicans…

And I know police officers. 

In trying to find something positive over the past couple of days, I came to the conclusion that after all that’s transpired, my family members and friends in law enforcement will still put on their uniforms, will still do their jobs today to protect all of us. 

And the other good people I know, no matter what they look like, where they come from, or what they do for a living – will continue raising their families and living good lives. 

Pray for peace. 

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Stars & Stripes – Still Everybody Gripes

We the People….3 words that sit as the foundation of our very society.  As this holiday weekend gets underway, I wanted to examine (albeit not very scientifically) what it means to be an Amer…

Source: Stars & Stripes – Still Everybody Gripes

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Stars & Stripes – Still Everybody Gripes

We the People….3 words that sit as the foundation of our very society.  As this holiday weekend gets underway, I wanted to examine (albeit not very scientifically) what it means to be an American.

This year it’s overshadowed by the Presidential race.  No matter which candidate you favor, there are a whole mess of people who think you’re certifiable.  I’ve never seen two candidates so revered and abhorred at the same time.  And let’s face it – neither one is that great.  And there is a similar attitude towards the President we’ve had for the last eight years.  There is a fairly vocal portion of the population who love him, and an equally vocal portion of the population who can’t stand him. Think about that for just a moment.  In this country an American can love our leader and shout it from the rooftops or the street corner….despise him and shout it from the rooftops or the street corner. We all know that if you did that in some countries, you’d be in a truckload of trouble.

It’s been 240 years since the United States “are” became the United States “is”…and we’re still trying to figure out the Bill of Rights!  What did our “Founding Fathers” mean by freedom of the press?  Gawker thought they knew…and it cost them millions of dollars.  What was the Second amendment really for?  Depends on which pundit’s interpretation you favor. And don’t get me started on what I call the “fake issues” – those things about which the media and the politicians want us to worry and argue because there is probably something way more important from which they want to divert our attention.

I think it’s safe to say that the gentlemen who created the 3 branches of government, with their system of checks and balances, would have blown a revolutionary gasket if they saw how lobbyists have bastardized the legislative branch or the how Executive Order is used like a statutory crowbar.  It’s pretty out of hand.

What happened to government by the people – for the people?  Most people agree that the “closed club” of politicians have been Capitol chair fillers, rather than lawmakers.  Have you felt represented?  Forget the party lines for a moment.  How many of us really believe our elected Congresspeople and Senators are OUR voice, thinking about OUR lives, and representing OUR best interests?

And how absolutely awesome that we even get to be annoyed by that?!

At the end of the day – we actually have the ability, dare I say, the right to be irritated that we are not being well represented.  That the individuals for whom we cast a vote aren’t doing a great job.  And through our votes in various local or national elections – we can hire new people to hopefully do a better job.

Yes, we complain, yes we probably have some good reasons to do so.  But let’s face it – as Americans, we have the power to pick who will lead us.  If things are so bad, maybe it’s because as voters, we haven’t done our jobs very well.

As Americans, we need to own that we drive this red white and blue machine. Who’s responsible for our country?  The President? Congress?

We the people.  Us.  Nobody else.

 

 

 

 

 

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Sometimes you just need to laugh. 

One of the most annoying things I have ever dealt with in my life has resulted from one of the best things my late parents had in their life: their reverse mortgage. 

Oh sure, you see Robert Wagner or Alex Trebek on the TV telling seniors what a great deal it is. And for the seniors it is a great deal. 

For those left behind, it’s a great…big…pain in the ass. 

If you’re ever looking into a reverse mortgage, or you have parents, or grandparents looking into a reverse mortgage, don’t let who’s ever selling it tell you that when your loved one is gone that as their Personal Representative, you’ll simply hand the house back to the bank. 

Easy breezy lemon squeezey.

In my case, since the house wasn’t worth enough to pay the balance  after the 8 years my folks used those funds to better their lives, I had the option to make the necessary improvements to bring the house up to that amount (and in the meantime put myself in debt) so it would sell. That wasn’t gonna happen. 

So I decided to take the easy breezy lemon squeezey route and “hand the house back to the bank” – Except that, my friends, is called a foreclosure! Surprise!! And the “bank” is a third party debt collector (DC). 

Ahh yes, the dreaded F word. But have no fear, the DC convinced me to do what is called a Deed in Lieu,  which is supposed to be an option instead of actual foreclosure. 

(Insert laugh track here)

They said that the process will take 90 to 120 days and they gave me 90 days from the date of death to clear out 47 years of STUFF from the house and sweep it clean. (God bless family and friends who helped with that depressing task). 

For the period of 90 to 120 days, I would be responsible for the property. Responsible for the gas and electric, the water service to the house, and keeping the property maintained. Since it was spring and summer I’ve been having the lawn mowed. Figured it was worth while if it was going to keep foreclosure out of the picture. 

Unfortunately they weren’t very clear about when that 90 to 120 days actually begins. In my case, the clock started 45 DAYS after my clean out deadline. Why the hell did I have to rush?

And forestall foreclosure? On, nay nay (as the late great John Pinnette would say). 

They sent seven Notices of Foreclosure (because, of course, one just isn’t enough) and continued the foreclosure process. 

I’ve received weird offers from strange people who want to buy the house for a ridiculously small amount (illegal in most states), nasty notes from the state insinuating my folks are deadbeats (guess they didn’t realize they were deceased not deadbeats) and so on and so forth. 

I call every few weeks for an update. The phone staff is typical. Follow their little script with questions I answered 10 times before (I know it’s the law, but damn annoying) and they are never quite clear what in tarnation is happening. 

Today, they called me. I still had to answer the same stupid questions even though they initiated the call – but my heart leapt for joy! Were they calling me to tell me we’re done?!?!?

Nope. Calling to “give me an update” which consisted of the young man asking me questions, then having to review the information for himself, then telling me all the stuff I already knew. 

In the end, he gave me a target date for DIL completion a month later than the last guy I talked to…and which, by the way, is now 2 days AFTER the tentatively scheduled foreclosure sale. I was floored. 

What was the point of my going through all of this nonsense? The young man understood. He was going to “email the DIL admin to expedite the process.” Yeah. Sure. 

A reverse mortgage can be a great option for seniors on a limited income, but fairly nightmarish for those left behind. I wouldn’t have advised my parents to do anything differently, but I do wish I’d been more informed. 

As with all crappy situations, this too will pass. In the meantime, I’ll shake my head and try to giggle through the absurdity of it all. 

Wish me luck. 

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Damn right I’m loyal. But I’m not an idiot. 

The dictionary defines loyalty as devotion, constancy, allegiance; a sense of duty or of devoted attachment to something or someone.

Every personality test I’ve ever taken tells me I’m loyal. Not hard to figure out looking at my life. I’ve known one of my best friends for 42 years. I’ve known 2 others for 35 years. I’ve been with the same man for half my life. 

If you’re thinking “Gee, you’re pretty loyal,” I’m just getting started!

I was with my dentist for 42 years, I have followed my hairstylist to 3 establishments over the course of the last 16 years, and I even went to the same massage therapist every month for 8 years. 

Damn right I’m loyal.

Right?

But what do other people see as loyalty? 

Do you ever get the feeling that for some folks, loyalty is 

“I’m here if you need me”?

“I won’t hurt your feelings”

……as long as it doesn’t inconvenience them or interrupt the daily course of their own lives. 

Is loyalty then, in the eye of the beholder? 

And what do you do if what you feel is your undying loyalty is suddenly not reciprocated (Truly? Or in your own eyes?)

What then?

Being loyal, or compassionate, or frugal, or anal, or whatever…is so deeply rooted in whatever makes a person, well a person. 

I think. 

It’s a funny concept, loyalty. When does it cross over into enough already? 

Like when you’re so devoted, no matter what and you become somebody’s doormat. 

Not me. 

That’s the other thing that personality tests and my own experience has taught me. I’m loyal. Until you give me reason not to be. 

Then I’m done. 

Damn right I’m loyal. But I’m not an idiot. 

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In his honor…Things My Daddy Taught Me

This weekend is my fourth Father’s Day without my dad. In his honor, I offer the following:

He came to America as a baby in his mother’s arms. At 17, he got his parent’s permission to join the Navy and proudly served his country in not one but two wars. He spent his career assisting in the care of others as an x-ray technician. He raised two daughters and was married to the same woman for 60 years. His health was not the best the last several years of his life, but his humor remained. His grand kids called him Pop. Sometimes, his wife called him “Idiot!”. 

To me he was Dad. 

I’d like to share some of the lessons he always told me (even the ones he didn’t follow himself 100% of the time) that I’ve tried to live by throughout my life. 
Things My Daddy Taught Me:

  • When you get up in the morning, you better enjoy the work you do and how you will spend your day, or else you’ll be miserable. 
  • It’s better to be a half hour early than 5 minutes late. 
  • Sometimes it’s not what you know, but who…and there’s a big difference between “book smart” and “street smart”.
  • Stay calm in an argument – the one who’s screaming looks like the idiot. Don’t give someone else the power to make you lose your cool. 
  • Appreciate the classics – in music, art, and literature. They live forever. Trends fade away. 
  • Hypocrites are a waste of your time. Invest, instead, in good friends. 
  • “The Godfather” is the best movie…Ever…Period. 


If you still have your dad, give him a big hug. And if you ARE a dad, trust me – your kids are listening. 
Happy Father’s Day!

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The morning river

One morning this week,  the rest of the world was choking on exhaust fumes and spilling coffee in their laps as they sped along the beltway on their way to work.

But on the river,it was quiet.  The sun had just peaked over the tree line, casting a golden, twinkling light on the surface of the water.  Looking at the sparkling too long made my eyes tear, almost as if the beauty was making me cry.

There was the barest breath of wind,and no boat traffic at that hour.  In the canal of the river, there were no waves, just the current softly lapping at the shore.

Along that shore, a blue heron stood at attention, still as a statue waiting for his breakfast to swim by…and when it did the heron plucked it from the water, worked it down its long gullet…then once again stood silent, straight and still.  Awaiting the next course.

As we accelerated and got on plane, I looked across the span, and saw that we were the only boat riding the river that morning. No fisherman, no crabbers, no weekday pleasure seekers.  The river belonged to us.

As we smoothly road along, I watched the color of the water seem to change, through sun, through shadow, and back again.  I watched seagulls swoop and dance, flitting here and there during what could have been their morning play.

The breeze from the ride through my hair, the sun on my face, and the river in all of it glory. It was peaceful and beautiful. .. more than my attempt to describe it can justify.

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