Count to Ten and Exhale

Ahhh… the weekend is over and it’s Manic Monday all over again.  I can’t complain, though, because I did exactly what I wanted to do this weekend.  I got sort of caught up around here and spent time with everybody.  IzzyB and I did get started on our flipflop making, and I promise (Roma) pictures at some point today!  Of course she might not get to wear them for a month.  It’s freezing outside.  ugh

The weekend retreat went well for the social butterfly.  She said she actually enjoyed it.  I asked her if they did anything scary or pushy, speak in tongues, throw themselves writhing onto the ground, etc.  She said they didn’t do anything like that at all, so I think we’re safe. 

You know, I’m glad it’s hard for you guys to remember I’m supposedly a Republican and a Christian.  That let’s me know I’m one of the few who are doing it right!  Yes, Roma, I have a tattoo.  I have a little quater moon and star on my left ankle.  By the way, that whole shit about tattoo artists refusing to give you a tattoo if you’re drunk… whatever!  Even though I was plastered when I got it done, I don’t regret it.  I did it for me.  Oh, and I had a tongue ring for years and years. 

You would have truly thought the world was burning to the ground when my parents realized the kind of person I’d turned out to be.  My mother enjoys telling people that I didn’t do the rebelling thing until I was twenty-five.  What she’s finally understanding after all these years is that I was never lashing out at all.  I was being me.  You see, that’s the thing about my religious and spiritual convictions; you can’t believe in a higher power of perfection in any form and then believe that being made mistakes.  If I believe in God and I believe that he made you and me, then I’m forced to believe, if we’re being true to ourselves, we’re exactly who we’re supposed to be. 

You can make it just as complicated as you want, but what it comes right down to is who you are and your ability to allow those around you to be exactly who they are, as well.  I know that sounds far easier than it is especially when you see someone going down the wrong path in life.  But the thing is, if you look, truly look, you’ll see if that person is lost and just wandering or if they’re truly convicted to that direction.  Those meandering along might possibly be willing to sit down and listen to logic, have open minds, might see the light.  However, those with deep convictions and agendas, you might as well spit in the wind.  It’s frustrating, but that’s just how it is. 

My mother is sixty-three years old.  She doesn’t believe in dinosaurs or that we ever landed on the moon.  When she starts her ranting, the audacity that a reasonably intelligent woman can be that misled just blows my mind.  Like I said, she’s a smart woman… mostly!  But all the evidence and reasoning and logic in the world won’t change her mind.  You know what I do about it?  I make sure she never starts her wild stuff when my kids are around.  Over the years I’ve learned I can’t change her mind, so I just protect my kids.

Before you judge someone, look at who they are and where they’ve been.  My mother, for instance, was raised out in the middle of nowhere on a farm.  Poor as they could be, no bathroom, no electricity for a long time, with almost no link to the outside world.  She went to school with her sisters at small country schools that taught next to nothing beyond the basics, reading, writing, math.  She tells stories of sitting around for hours at a time doing nothing but singing along with the old radio they had in the living room once they got electricity.  She and her five sisters could have been famous if they’d been born somewhere else in some other time because I have never  heard anyone with the beautiful harmonies they have.  It’s amazing.  She laughs when she talks about learning to sing along with that radio never knowing that the musicians they were listening to were mostly black.  She’d never even seen a black person!  So when the sisters would sing out in public, church or somewhere, they would usually offend someone and certainly not get asked to sing at that particular place again!  She remembers when they used their flour sacks and potato sacks to make dresses to wear.  The flour sacks were the best because they were prettier with floral patterns and such.

So what I’m saying is, yes, the world has changed so much and we know so much more than we did at the time of my mother’s youth, but most of it, she was just never introduced to.  By the time she did make her way out into the world, she was a young woman with kids leaving an abusive marriage, and it was just easier for her to convince herself that the world was just as she saw it.  She’d always been taught it was small and simple, and it was safer for her to continue on with that until it was just too late to convince her of anything else.

Wow, this post did not go where I was aiming.  That’s to be expected.  I’ve always had terrible aim.  Oh well, everyone is used to my ramblings by now!  Time to wake the tribe!  I’m gonna go hug them and quiz them over dinosaurs and lunar landings.  I’ve made myself nervous.