It will be okay

“Okay,” according to some etymologists, was an acronym for “oll korrect” (which is slang for “all correct”). Coming from a dysfunctional family has taught me many valuable lessons. But this lesson was one of my dad’s last parting gifts. He would always comfort me with the words, “It’s going to be okay.” I believed he had some ability to know that his statement would come true, but now that he’s gone, I realize exactly what he was trying to teach me.

My dad never pampered or coddled us. He never taught us to believe in fairy tales or miracles. Some people may view this as a disservice. I view it as a gift. My father had his shares of loss, pain and heartache. His experiences in life would never allow him to promise his children bliss. He never said, “It’s going to turn out perfect,” or “magnificent” or “brilliant.” Just “okay.”

So what does “okay” mean to me? “Okay” in no way involves perfection. My life has never been perfect and never will be. If you are alive, you’re guaranteed a few things: you will experience loss, feel grief, have regrets and suffer heartbreak. But you can also look forward to moments of happiness, joy, gratitude and contentment. In life, there are no revisions. If you are fortunate, the amazing moments will outweigh the mistakes, errors and blunders.

Coming from a mild climate in California has always allowed me to be a weather wimp. I dread one season in North Carolina: I hate the stiff Arctic breeze that starts in December and subsides in March. Every fall, I know what’s around the corner: the cold, the darkness, the slumber of winter. But somehow, when we survive this frigid and harsh season, spring is always that much more enjoyable. The sun warms your bones, life is revived, all is correct.

My dad seemed to understand that life can be cold and harsh, the wind unrelenting. He also seemed to know that if you could survive the frigid dark days, then the bright and sunny were sure to follow. So when I am at my lowest, I hear the words my dad uttered so many times: “It’s going to be okay.” These five words give me strength. They give me the courage to proceed, without high expectations but with a realistic view of the future. Life is far from flawless, but no matter what comes my way: It will be okay!

Don’t drive under the influence of emotion

When you drive under the influence, your vision is blurred, your judgment is impaired, your reflexes are slowed. You may think your brain is in control, but it’s being swayed by the effects of alcohol. The same thing happens when we overreact. In my family tree, there are many branches of over-reactors. And I am no exception.

My overweening reactions waste valuable energy, cost me many tears and cause unneeded heartache.Overreacting is like tossing your brain out the sunroof and letting your heart take the wheel. The heart is a horrible driver. It blurs our vision, slows our reflexes, impairs our nervous system and hinders our judgment.

My sister, who is a nurse, usually has nerves of titanium. But when her heart is involved, all sound logic is tossed out the sunroof. When I was pregnant with my third child, she offered to give me a break by babysitting my two older children. They were at her house enjoying themselves, when my sister frantically called me. My oldest daughter had been hurt. I heard the words: “Ansleigh has been cut and I need your help!” So I grabbed the first aid kit, waddled to our minivan and sped across town. I found my sister and daughter in the bathroom, sobbing. A Band-Aid seemed to calm the situation, and we all laughed about it later. My sister’s love for her niece overpowered her logical nurse’s brain.

When someone we love is injured, treated poorly or facing adversity, our heart will take over and start driving. We can become intoxicated by sentiment. Overreacting will always complicate the situation, impairing our normally sound judgment. So the next time your heart starts reaching for the wheel, tell it: “Absolutely not!” Because no one should drive under the influence of emotion.

Start a new chapter

My great-grandmother loved to read. Her house was full of books. Much like her I am an avid reader. As a little girl, I would disappear into a good mystery: the excitement that built as I turned each page. I would usually tell myself, “Just one more chapter.” This would be repeated dozens of times, until my eyes protested and let me know it was time to quit for the day.

Life is not as simple as reading a book, however. Change is good when it’s happening on a piece of paper, but it’s not so easy to accept in real life. Unfortunately, you can’t stay in your favorite chapter and keep reading it indefinitely.

A year and two months after my dad died, my family had to start a new chapter. My dad’s wife and son, as well as my aunt and long-lost cousin, all came to North Carolina for a visit, without my dad. As we picked them up from the airport, it felt like a layer of fog was hanging over us: heavy fog that wouldn’t let the rays of sun shine through. My mind kept telling me, “Dad should be here.” But he wasn’t.

This turning point was hard, but it was what I needed and the story did start to improve. We had a spectacular week together. We reminisced and we cried, but more than anything we laughed. I got to know my aunt, my dad’s wife and my favorite cousin better. My dad, who normally was the connector in our family wasn’t there to connect us, so we had to do it on our own.

While my aunt was with us, she said that the day my great-grandfather died they all worried about my great-grandmother surviving without him. They went into her room to check on her that night and found her snuggled in bed, reading a book. That was the last thing they expected a grief-stricken widow to be doing, but maybe she knew what I am just now understanding: sometimes you just have to turn the page and start a new chapter.

Tears cleanse the soul

There is something about an afternoon thunderstorm that is exhilarating. It restores life to the atmosphere. The day starts out still, with heat and humidity as thick as wool. The pressure soon begins to build. You can see the black clouds in the distance, and know it’s time to take cover. The lighting flashes, you hear the thunder and the downpour begins. All the energy is released, and the air is left pure and refreshed.

It can be the same with our tears. We have been given the ability to cry for a reason, it is the overflow valve for when our heart cannot handle the pressure. It may be in times of sadness or times of joy. Tears can bring renewal to our souls.

When my oldest daughter was born, I did not cry, but my sister did. The emotions during the birth of a child can be the most intense you will ever experience. There is nervousness, excitement, tension and anxiety, all climaxing in joy. When the event was over, my sister was sobbing. She cried for the next twelve hours. All the energy of that amazing event had built up, and needed a release.

I, have cried more in the last few years than I have cried my entire life. The tears seem to be waiting for any opportunity to slip out. I use to think being overly emotional was a sign of weakness. That may be true, but now I look at it as restoring the life to my spirit. It has a purifying effect on a heavy, thick heart. Tears were made to cleanse your soul.

Change is not impossible

There are habits so deeply ingrained in each of us that it would be easier to alter the course of the Colorado River than reshape our lives. Unfortunately, these changes must come in order for us to grow and to be true to ourselves.

I have experienced many changes in the last few years, but my biggest battle has been with myself. Adversity brings out weaknesses, and I have realized that I am riddled with inadequacy. Each quality is permanently attached and will require invasive surgery to fully remove. If I survive going under my own knife I will live up to my full potential. I hope it’s worth the risk!

The majority of people, want to change but only accomplish it for a fleeting moment. Some have no desire to change, but often need it the most. And then there are the extraordinary few who are determined and have the tenacity not only to transform themselves, but to hold on to their newfound strength.

Sometimes it is easier to put on a performance. It’s simpler than exposing your most fragile limitations. Change starts with reflection, continues with dedication and persists with diligence. It will be a tedious process, but not an impossible one.

The past should rest in peace

Just like water flowing downhill, life must travel in a forward direction. It may curve from left to right and dig a few deep holes, but it will keep moving. When it stops it becomes stagnant and loses its appealing attributes. No one wants to drink water from a moss-covered, murky mud hole.

You should never forget where you come from, but living in the past will only cause you to lose your appealing attributes. Remembering your past should be brief and temporary, like stopping in for a spot of tea with your old self, listening to the words of wisdom that you’ve already learned. If we prolong the visit, the past will become like the friend who crashes on our couch. After days of lazing around and never showering, this can become quite offensive.

I know firsthand that it’s easy to have regrets. Maybe it’s for many large, bad choices, or dozens of small ones. But prolonged looking back, and living those regrets every day is a cop-out! It prevents you from experiencing the present. You won't feel today and the emotions it brings. You will never be able to stay in the moment. Your life will become aimless, your direction will be backwards and stagnation will set in. Living in the past allows your heart to be numb to the present. You are so consumed by the should have, could have, would have, that you miss the now.

So if this is your tendency, I recommend having a funeral for the past. Write down all your regrets and mistakes, all the hurts that have been inflicted. Find a box and bury them. Mourn the past, shed as many tears as required, wail and moan about how bad your life has been up until now. From time to time, you may even want to stop by the grave and leave flowers. But whatever you do, don’t dig it back up, because the past should rest in peace.

Wisdom

Wisdom is not the inability to make mistakes, it’s the ability to learn from them. I make stupid mistakes every day of my life. Sometimes they cost me money, sometimes they cost me time and sometimes they cost me dignity. I am actually proud and willing to tell you how dumb I can be. I recently had to tell my oldest daughter just how good her mother was at making mistakes. She was having a bad day and had gotten into trouble for hurting her little brother. In the course of her discipline she told me that she felt like she was always making mistakes and couldn’t do anything right. At that point, I had to spill the beans about my own inadequacy.

I am not sure if telling her about of all my bad choices made her feel any better, but I wanted her to understand that no one is going to make all the right decisions. Sometimes, because our heart leads us astray or because we have false information or because we have not weighed all the evidence or because emotions get the best of us, we do really dumb things. And unfortunately, we may have to live with the consequences for years to come. If we are not making mistakes, we are not growing, we are not learning, we are not gaining wisdom.

If I gave you a choice of being slapped in the face or living with a lifelong chronic condition, which one would you choose? The slap in the face is painful and embarrassing, but the pain will quickly fade. It’s the same when we make a blunder. No one wants to be told they have done something wrong or wasted time, money or energy. It hurts! It’s embarrassing! But if you feel the pain, if you let it sting and accept the fact that you are NOT perfect, you can learn from it, and the pain will quickly fade. The other choice is to ignore the mistake, pretend it wasn’t your fault and repeat it again in the future. This will provide you with a lifelong condition of chronic suffering.

When you own up to your bad choices or errors in judgment, you are on the road to becoming truly wise. There will be no need to repeat the mistake over and over. Instead, you learn from it: “Wow, that was stupid, but I’m sure glad I got it out of my system. Don’t need to do that ever again.” Choosing to own up is a road less traveled, but one that is much more enjoyable. There is a fine line between wisdom and stupidity, and there is actually only one key difference: a truly wise person will learn from their mistakes; a stupid person will repeat theirs.

Life gives you character

I love to drive down a road full of houses with character. The ones that have stood the test of time, that are unequal. Age only makes them more remarkable. They are not cheap, and are truly unique—they have been built with patience and quality. They have a personality all their own. That is how a home should look, and how it should feel. Unfortunately, most homes today are built in a rush, without thought for excellence.

Based completely on emotion we decided to buy a house that is exactly 100 years old. It is slightly quirky and by no means perfect. Some days I adore it, other days, it's faults drive me crazy. It has a personality all it's own, and it feels like home.

People can also posses this same amount of character. Age only seems to enhance their excellence. They have let time refine them, and they have built their lives with patience and quality. They are not perfect but when you are with them, you feel like you are home. If you have a chance to meet someone like this, savor every moment, be in awe! Learn from them!

We are not born with character; life gives us our flavor. It may be bitter, sweet, sour, spicy, even odd. Someone with character will tell you where you stand. You will be able to trust them with your life. Their trials have enhanced them. They are empathic. They are wise. You are better, because of knowing them. They have stood the test of time, they are unique: life has given them character.

Don’t put all your eggs in one basket

This is one expression both my parents could agree on. I heard it over and over as a child. It is very easy to put all of your energy into one thing. It may be a job, a relationship, money, your mate, your friends. Your identity is based on that one thing. If it fails, you’re a failure; if it succeeds, you’re a success.

My husband was a good example of this. He worked at a winery, where most of his time and energy was spent. He loved it! It gave him value and worth. He had other priorities, but this was his biggest. But this all changed the day we had our daughter. Now the winery didn’t seem as important. He knew he had to make a change. So he did the unthinkable, and quit. When he quit, he lost all his eggs. He lost his identity, his value, his worth.

This was a valuable lesson that he willingly learned. Some people are not given the option. Many don’t realize they have put so much emphasis on one thing until it’s gone. Maybe they have neglected friends and family in order to put all their energy into their marriage. Perhaps they have neglected all of their friends and family to concentrate on their career. The disaster is just waiting to happen. The day the basket breaks. The day the mate leaves, or the job is lost.

Just like the stock market, the safest course is diversification. To have many assets spread evenly across the board. To keep all things balanced and in proper perspective. Develop friendships with a variety of people. Enjoy your mate, but don’t neglect your family. Appreciate your career, but know it’s just one of your assets. Remember that all things in life are transient. A job can be gone tomorrow, a family member lost indefinitely, a friendship severed. Choose the best eggs carefully, treat them delicately and make sure you don’t put them all in one basket.

Struggle transforms

It seems that things often work out, for a reason beyond our comprehension. The things we fight and deny are the same things we need the most. I have seen a golden thread spun out of many bad situations. Perhaps you would rather avoid the grief; but if you can’t, at least you can let it mold you.

The last time I had dinner with my family, I felt overwhelming gratitude. I was happy and content. Sadly, it has taken me many years and much struggle to reach this point, but I have finally found peace. My husband asked me later, “Would you have believed ten years ago that you would feel this way?” Not a chance!

My dad’s death has opened many doors for his wife. I am sure she would have preferred to avoid the sadness of his loss, but she couldn’t. The choices she has made since his death are probably not the same ones she would have made before his death. She has taken a bad situation and found the golden thread.

Being an awkward child, I fought learning how to ride my bike. I was content running after all the kids on our block as they glided around on their bicycles. Finally my family had enough and I was forced to learn something most children can’t wait to master. It took much patience, and quite a few tears—mostly from those trying to teach me—but I finally got it. After all the struggle, my life improved. Something that had seemed impossible now was effortless.

Life can be the same way. We instinctively recoil when a difficulty is placed in our lap. As if it were a snake, we panic and push it away, pretending it doesn’t exist. We try to get as far away as possible. But this often just prolongs the agony. Struggling is an indicator that we are under construction. It means that we are changing and learning, not only about things around us, but about our own strength. It may require patience and quite a few tears, but after all the struggle, something that seemed impossible will become effortless. We will emerge like butterflies, amazed at our own capacity to transform.

Do the opposite

If you are successful in all areas of life, do not apply this lesson! But for the rest of us, here is a little trick I’ve learned. Some people can make money in their sleep but can’t make a marriage last past the honeymoon. Others are sensitive and capable in relationships, but encounter one disaster after another in financial matters. Then there are those that fail at everything. They have no money, no family, no friends. Something went terribly wrong.

So what do you do? How can you help someone in this predicament? Three little words may open the universe: DO THE OPPOSITE! If every choice you have made up until now has resulted in failure, maybe the problem is not you, it’s the choices you’re making.

We all are creatures of habit: we will make a pattern for ourselves and use it over and over again. If we have an accurate pattern, we can end up with a nicely fitting garment. If the pattern is distorted or flawed, we may not realize it until we try on our new outfit and see the lopsided results.

It’s the same with our choices. We may not realize we have been using distorted or flawed reasoning until we experience the bad ending. This trick does not take much effort. This is how it works: You’re upset, or someone has treated you rudely. What is your reaction? Lash out, ignore them, get even. What is the last thing you would do? Buy them flowers, give them a hug, smile. Then that’s the right choice!

You may not see instantaneous results. But be patient, stick with it. Try it for one week. If you want to spend money, don’t. If you want to nag your mate, compliment them instead. If you want to yell at your children, give them a hug. It may be the easiest way to change your life. No counseling, no hypnosis, no reliving your childhood—all it takes is the simple step of doing the opposite.

It’s not about things, it’s about people

I am about things, not people. I wake up thinking of all the things I need to accomplish. This habitual “multi-tasking” leaves me concentrating on my to-do list. If you need my time, let me know and I can pencil you in. So how does being about things and not people ruin you?

Life is about people. Some people alter who we are. Others let us change them. It’s like the tides: you can’t control them, you just learn to appreciate the high and lows. How long would you be happy without people? We need them just as much as they need us. How much of our happiness is dependent on things?

The people who make the biggest impact on our lives are never about things. They appreciate your value. They cherish their relationships, and that is what makes them rich. My dad was one of these people. He always found the time just for you. I always thought I was one of the few my dad would call regularly, but at his funeral I realized he kept in touch with everyone. His life was about people.

When we base our lives around things, people get crowded out. We miss the precious moments that can never be duplicated. We don’t enjoy the laughter, we have no time for solitude, we miss the abundance of the little things around us. The most valuable treasure is our memories. We never remember how much that car loved us, or how great that television treated us. The inanimate things fade from our minds. But we do remember how our children smelled, how someone felt in our arms, the sound of our favorite laugh, the sparkle of adored eyes. These are small things that happen every second of every day. They make an imprint on our soul, never to be erased. Life is about people, not things.

Your mother wants to call you every day

A mother’s love surpasses time. If you are eighty and your mother is a hundred, she will still worry about you, she will still give you advice, and if she is able to pick up the phone, she will still call you. I actually think it’s only mothers with an extreme amount of self control who don’t call their children every day. Even the ones who hold themselves back still have the desire.

Every mom has experienced letting go. Maybe it’s the first day of kindergarten, the first bus ride, the first field trip, the first date, your child moving out, getting married. Every inch your child grows feels like a foot of letting go. You want them to be independent, successful adults. Yet you secretly hope that they will still need you.

I talk to my mom almost every day, sometimes more than once. Usually the conversations are uneventful. She’s just checking in, touching base. She wants to be sure we are all right. If she has good news, she shares it with us. When she has a bad day, we can brighten it. I take it as a compliment.

Growing up does not stop a mother’s affection. It may make her appreciate you more. If she has done her job right, you will be someone she wants to have a relationship with. She will yearn to talk to you, to hear your perspective, to find out your thoughts and feelings. She has invested much in you and this is her dividend: to have a relationship with someone she has unconditional love for. I know without a doubt that when my children fly away, I will want to follow. I am sure they’ll pay me back by moving 3,000 miles away. I will miss them terribly and I will call them every day.

Old age brings out your worst qualities

I have met some amazingly happy people. Their eyes still have a mischievous twinkle and the lines on their faces show a life full of smiles. They are kind and spirited and still enjoy life to its fullest.

I also have met a few that have none of those things. Life has sucked out their vitality. They have a permanent frown. They have never discovered the wisdom that comes with age, and are the true definition of misery.

I got married very young. Most consider this a handicap, but I looked at it as an advantage. I had not become set in my ways. My husband and I have grown up together. If I had to get married today, I would have a much harder time being adaptable. I am a creature of habit, and my habit is to have things my way. Age has enhanced my worst qualities.

If you are generally a happy, flexible, good-natured person, you will probably stay that way. You will age gracefully, and will appreciate the wisdom that comes with experience. Your life will reflect joy and peace. You will be surrounded by people who adore you and value your input.

On the other hand, if you’re grouchy, set in your ways, dogmatic, bitter and judgmental at a young age, life will only get worse with time. As you age, you no longer care what other people think, and politeness is a waste of time. The true you is magnified, and unfortunately for all around you, your worst qualities become larger than life.

Procrastination is expensive

Procrastination is putting off doing something until a future time. Delaying something needlessly. We all have things we don’t like to do. My husband tends to procrastinate when he is treading on unfamiliar ground. Other times it may be something painful we are putting off: a doctor’s visit, eating better, exercise. Then there are the times when we just delay needlessly, for no apparent reason. Maybe it’s a trip, a new purchase or making a phone call.

Time or money may be the root cause of our procrastination. I have mastered putting something off until a future time, and unfortunately this has led to many regrets. Life is fragile and delays can never be redeemed.

A few weeks before my dad died, I had an overwhelming desire to drop everything and go to Disneyland with him. I knew it wasn’t practical, I had no money and he probably couldn’t have gotten the time off work, but the thought lingered. I pushed it out of my mind until some future time. I also wanted to send him a movie that I knew he would enjoy, yet I delayed needlessly. I procrastinated! Those choices can never be redeemed. There is no “do over.”

Every time I talked to my dad he would tell me he was going to come back for a visit. In the spring it would be in the fall and in the fall it would be in the spring. The seasons always changed and we always hoped he would come.

Procrastination was one of his identifying trademarks. We knew he would eventually do it, just slower than most. Sometimes procrastination can save valuable energy. You have had time to make the right decision, which leads to less regrets. At other times, procrastination wastes valuable energy. You have delayed needlessly and have missed a window of opportunity that will never open again. Telling someone how you feel, taking a long-awaited trip, sending that one-of-a-kind gift, making a phone call. In an instant, those things may not be an option, and your delay has cost you a missed chance and given you a life filled with regret. That is the high price of procrastination.

Don’t judge a book by its cover

You never know what’s under the surface. I love to use my intuition to read into any given situation. The problem with this is that we really are only looking at the top layer. It’s like deciding to swim based on the calm, clear water, not realizing there’s a raw sewage leak fifty feet away.

Everyone has their own toxic waste to deal with. Some wear a DANGER! DO NOT ENTER sign, while others deceive you by looking cool and inviting. We really don’t know what’s going on under the water. My instinct has served me well, but in this area it can lead me astray. I either don’t take the time to learn what is really going on, or I form an opinion based on my nearsighted perspective.

Like a book, people can have many chapters. Some are short and simple; others are long and complicated. You have to choose what you’re in the mood for. I know many who on the surface appear sweet and fragile, but that is just a veneer. Others will push you away with their harsh, unrefined attitude, but that's only a cover to protect the fragile being within.

When you go to the library, you have a large selection of reading material, but you usually narrow it down to a select few. This is based on the short time it takes to look at the cover. Unfortunately the surface can be deceiving. It take’s diligence to distinguish what's inside. Like books, the true value of a person is not the exterior, but the interior. Do they change your perspective? Do they make you smile? Do they offer you wisdom? Joy? Or are you left feeling empty and distraught?

We all have a variety of covers. Some are leather, slightly broken in and soft. Others are flashy, hard and new. A few are old and torn after many years of use. Some you can never read enough of; with others you won’t finish the first chapter. So take your time when you search for those that will be a part of your life, because you can never judge a book by it’s cover .

There may be a reason

Have you ever just kept thinking of someone? An old friend or a long-lost family member? Over the course of a few days, they seem to be on your mind an inordinate amount of time. You have the strong urge to pick up the phone and reconnect. My advice is that you should!

When I was a teenager, one of the words of wisdom my mother gave me was: “They may be on your mind for a reason.” I’m not talking about old boyfriends. I’m talking about cherished, forgotten platonic relationships. The friend from high school, the cousin you lost touch with, the neighbor experiencing a difficult time.

There seems to be some internal connection with people we care about that alerts them to our distress. I have experienced this so many times in my life that I know it’s not coincidence. Recently I had one of my “sad days.” It started off with a simple email. The tears began and seemed to never dry up. My children and husband struggled to make me smile, but it didn’t work. Late in the afternoon, I got an unexpected phone call from a cherished friend. She was just the person I needed.

What made her call that particular day? I don’t know, but I’m glad she did! Every time I feel I can’t go on, I get this much needed help. Someone arrives in the rescue boat and pulls me aboard. It can come from the most unexpected source, but it’s always just what I need, impeccably timed.

No one has ever told me I have wielded such a great influence on their day, but I cannot resist the urge when the nagging voice in my head is prodding me to action. It may be sending an email, a card or flowers, or making a phone call—a simple gesture to let them know someone in the universe is thinking of them. It may prevent their drowning. So the next time that inner voice calls out to you, listen! There may be a reason.

Die in debt

I know this is controversial. As a parent, I would love to leave my children an inheritance. This is the “inheritance” my dad left me: die in debt. My dad got his wish. Not only did he die in debt, he had managed to accumulate no assets that could be distributed to his creditors. This may seem like a bad choice, but it did take some maneuvering.

My father was extremely generous. If it was in his power to give it to you, he would. He never thought twice about debt. He didn’t lose sleep over credit card payments. This generous attitude, combined with, “What, me worry?” was not the wisest financial choice. He lived life to the fullest and managed to accumulate debt in the process. “You only live once,” he would say.

So what did he accomplish by dying in debt? In his words, “It’s sticking it to the man.” Who was the man he so lovingly referred to? It is the system set up to kick you when you’re down. When you’re in dire straits financially, that is when your interest rate is suddenly raised to 55%. The late fees probably won’t matter, because you can’t even afford gas to get to work (if you still have a job).

I understand the flip side. You shouldn’t have debt. It’s irresponsible. Live within your means. Dying in debt is considered stealing. I do not have the easygoing attitude of my father. Debt stresses me out. But in his defense, I have also seen people who have deprived themselves their whole lives. Then they die. The same ending, but to a much more boring story. My dad’s story was anything but boring. If debt was what allowed him to live his life to the fullest, then I am thankful he made that choice. You never know how long your life will be. Live it with passion, enjoy every moment and if you need to, die in debt.

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They may be my purpose

I have seen many people hit a certain age and become dissatisfied with their lives. They feel that they have no purpose, no meaning, no direction. Some only feel satisfied when they’re working. That gives them a mission. Others feel as if something is missing, but like a dog chasing it's tail, they never quite reach it. I too have experienced these feelings. The uncertainty, the discontentment, the restlessness. The search for your purpose. Sadly most never find it. They continue searching, with frustrating, life-ruining results.

When all three of my children started school I felt the waves of aimlessness wash over me. What now? What direction should I go? Truthfully, I had no idea. I decided to start with a small purpose. My aim was to try to make one person smile, each and every day. It was a simple goal, but it worked. It helped me to not think so much about myself and try to figure out how to make others happy. It felt good to have a small purpose.

Parents can easily lose their direction, they can lose their value. Your to-do list is long, and can take over eighteen years to finish. Even when the time is up, you still don’t know if you did a good job. You won’t know if you’re successful until years later. There is no instant gratification, no immediate reward, no paycheck at the end of the week, nothing to gauge your worth. But a good mom or dad is the most valuable commodity on the planet. Parenting is a grandiose purpose!

No matter how old my children are, no matter how far away they fly, I will always be their mother. That is the most important thing I can give them. Someday my life will change but today my goal is to have a successful marriage, to appreciate the family I do have and to be the best mother I can possibly be. That is no small purpose.

Did you have good parents or bad? I would love to hear!

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Enjoy the small gifts

It seems that when we are at our lowest point in life, we are given a small gift. It is a tiny gift that makes us smile despite our despair. If you’ve never experienced this, it doesn’t mean it did not happen; just that you didn’t notice it.

Every time I see a rainbow I think of my dad. I saw a rainbow the week of his funeral. I was exhausted and overwhelmed with grief. My daughter and I were driving back to my dad’s house and in the green valley below was a flawless rainbow. The kind with a pot of gold at the bottom. Despite my misery, I had to smile. I felt thankful to be alive and to be there at that precise moment. It was a gift and I am glad I received it.

That same week, I decided to visit one of my dad’s favorite spots. It was a swinging bridge in the village of Arroyo Grande. He loved taking his children and grandchildren there. I planned on going and wallowing in my sorrow. Fortunately, I was not allowed to do this. Instead, an extremely amorous rooster jumped up on the bench with me and started doing a mating dance. His desperation brought a smile to my face. It was a tiny, happy gift.

The breathtaking sunset, the look your pet gives you when you get home, the smell of honeysuckle in the warm air, someone telling you they love you, all tiny, happy gifts. Even when you are content, it gives you peace when you notice the abundance around you. Life is hectic and rushed and daily small gifts go unobserved. As I frantically tried to get my children ready for school, I pulled out a paper from my youngest child’s backpack. It was her standing under a rainbow picking flowers. Since she is just learning to spell she had written: "I like to pig faurs." I felt thankful to be alive and to be there at that precise moment. It was a gift and I am glad I received it. No matter how disappointing life feels, it is full of gifts. But some are so tiny that you need 20/20 vision to see them.

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