Mother’s Day

Dear Mom,

Happy Mother’s Day! The last time I got to say that to you in person was in 1998. You are still in my heart after all these years, and I know that you’re in a much better place than before you passed.  There was so much I wanted to say to you, but didn’t truly realize that time was short until it was obvious. You know me, I do sometimes need a psychological 2x4 thrown at me to get the message. I’m also not necessarily great with the spoken word. I can be eloquent on paper, but brain to lips directly tends to lose something along the way.

Thank you for being a great mom while you were here. You might think you weren’t great, but you were. You had your failings (not many), but so did I and you put up with them right up until the end. You taught me so many of life’s lessons and gave me the skills to survive, and I’m not talking just the household basics. You shared with me not just as my mother, but as my friend, and let’s face it, you were a cool mom and friend. You were there for me even when you weren’t at your best. As I got older, I tried my best to return that favor.  We didn’t always agree on things, but I think we did on the things that mattered.

If you had expectations of me that I didn’t live up to, I’m sorry.   I expected to be successful in some career, have a comfortable life with a not entirely ugly gentleman happily at my side. You know, the fairy tale.  We both know that didn’t happen.  My not meeting expectations, regardless of whose they were, was of my own doing.  I know that you supported me in whatever decision I made and really just wanted me to be happy.  It’s all you wanted for any of your kids, and ultimately, I think we’ve all found our share of that happiness.

I used to gather lily-of-the-valley and violets for you while you were alive.   I even did it for a while after you passed, but don’t anymore.  It isn’t because you’re not worthy of them, as if that could EVER be the case.  But, I think it became a ritual that gives no comfort. They smell wonderful, but only I get to enjoy their fragrance now.  It’s not as though I get to present them to you in expected fashion – “Here, Mommy, Happy Mother’s Day” when I was young and just “Happy Mother’s Day” as I got older – and you’d smile and say “thank you” and then we’d find a vase for them to be displayed best in.  I can still hold out the bouquet, but you’re in my heart, not in my home to receive them.

So, for this Mother’s Day, no white coral bells and purple petaled flowers shall be picked by me.  They’ll stay where they are out in the world, still enjoyed.
 

Instead, I’ll simply end this by saying

Thanks, Mom. You’re the best and I love you.

‘cause it says it so much better than flowers.
 
Love,
Lauren

Reinvention

Ah, the birthday blog entry.  Fifty-eight years on the planet and still counting.  This past natal year was a time of abrupt changes, changes not so welcome on their initial impact, but accepted and moved on from nevertheless.  Positive things have grown out of them, albeit  like molasses sometimes.  As I head into this next year, I realize that further changes will be happening.  But whether those changes are by choice or out of my control, they’ll still bring about further positive things in the long run.

Lest you think I’m going to wax poetic about the interesting year between birthdays, I’m not.  This blog entry has to do with reinvention.  It was inspired by a comment someone made that spoke to me of a need to divest themselves from something which, at one point, had been a positive thing, but was now just a part of their work history to be moved on from.  I can relate on more than one level to this, as can many others.  Different jobs, different circumstances, but similar feelings and obstacles.

Sometimes through necessity, we must change what we do and how we do it.  Anybody who started life before 1980 knows how much technology has changed lives and quite a few jobs.  In a number of cases, technology drove some occupations to extinction, leaving businesses to reduce their work force or perish.  Even putting technology aside, the supply and demand for any given job can vary and when supply outweighs demand, those left out in the cold must decide what to do next, adapt to change or live in impoverished obscurity. 

Sometimes, though, the change is more about dissatisfaction with ourselves, with the paths our lives have taken.  Even when there’s nothing wrong financially or success-wise for them, some people have the need, the drive for  change.  These people thrive in reinventing themselves, repurposing their knowledge and skills into new ideas and paths.  Some call them dreamers, others call them visionaries. 

For either group of reinventors, there can be resistance to their change.  People cannot see them beyond how they’ve seen them before, sometimes beyond what they perceive as the perfect niche for them.  But when that niche has become a deep trench that’s no longer required or desired, it’s time to crawl out and move on. 

For those forced out, the encouragement to evolve isn’t always there.  If you’re good at what you do, stay close to it and you’ll be fine, is the philosophy.  That may be true or it may not.  If the job you do is going the way of the dodo, there’s just so long you can continue in a similar position and still be working.  It’s better to learn the new ways or even try something different altogether.

Observers are even more resistant toward those who have a need for job diversity.  Why can’t they just settle down and do one thing, is their lament.  However, asking those who thrive on occupational change-ups to be singularly occupied with one walk of life is like condemning them to purgatory.  Still others only seem to flit from one thing to the next when, in fact, they’re looking for that niche that others want them to be in. 

Those who can’t see any group beyond the roles they played in their lives before are in for a bigger shock than those who reinvent themselves.  The reinventors are adapting, seeing themselves in a whole new light.  Those who don’t understand that and/or won’t help them are the ones standing in the shadows, myopic and needing new glasses.

Life goes on.  People, jobs, locations all come and go.  Opportunities can be missed, disappear and then reappear.  There are times when we might think that, good or bad, it’s all fated to happen.  But, there is no foolproof predicting of which direction we’ll take when fate places a pothole or a pot of gold in front of us.   It’s what we do with those circumstances that makes it interesting and defines who we are.  We are the writers of our own stories and the potential for greatness is only limited by what we write next.  Chose all co-writers wisely, and don’t let negative reviews deter.  There’s no end of paper to write said story, but there’s always going to be a final page. 

Make it good, make it productive, make it fun,  But above all, make it unique.