Memorial Day Thoughts-Pearl Harbor to Iraq

A few days ago I gave a presentation to a large group of seniors, telling about the creation of my Japanese mother’s Cherry Blossoms in Twilight book and hoping to encourage them to share their own stories with their families. All was going well until one woman, with disgust in her voice, loudly said, “What about Pearl Harbor, did you forget about that?” My first ever “heckler,” so to speak. I was not upset or angry, but instead took that opportunity to expound at length about the horrors of war that are wreaked upon all involved.

War is not something that the people of a country vote on. It is decided by government and military leaders who in many countries will brutally smash any opposition or resistance to their views. They may control the media, mislead their people, and otherwise convince or threaten their citizens to believe as they do. I feel so lucky to live in a country where people are free to disagree with their leaders without the fear of being imprisoned, tortured, killed. The United States is filled with immigrants with terrible stories of fleeing an unwanted war to come to a place where they not only can be safe but have the freedom to be.

I believe it is almost a duty for those with war experiences to share some of those stories so that people will always be horrified at what war does to real people. It is easy for many of us to sit back in our recliners and shut off the TV when unpleasant pictures of faraway places are shown. This Memorial Day, please take a moment to remember that war is not some kind of video game, and that families are destroyed in heartwrenching ways. Honor the memories of the war dead and know that everyone suffers in a war.

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Make the Most of Mother’s Day

Mother’s Day is upon us and so I post a reminder to mothers everywhere to seize the moment and make your day enjoyable—for you. Yes, YOU take charge of the day. Sit back and enjoy … no laundry, cooking, chasing kids. Either go out to eat or, as I do, inform the spouse that you are not cooking and that he can plan what to do for dinner. Too many mothers wait for their families to do the tricks needed to make them happy, and too many mothers get disappointed. YOU know what you like, so do yourself and your family a favor and demystify the day by telling them what you want. Don’t be afraid of reminding them the day is coming and you’d love a card or a particular gift or meal. If other mothers in your family are in the picture, plan something you all can enjoy together or make Saturday or Monday your own private Mother’s Day. I learned from my stepmom long ago that I am in charge of my own happiness, and I deserve to be happy… at least one day a year!

Another thought is that this is a learning experience for the rest of the family—that Mom deserves a break from her 24/7 job(s) and that she is not afraid to stand her ground and get that break. This is really important for our girls to learn. Many women of my generation and older were raised to be the servant of the family, which is totally unfair! I don’t want my daughters thinking that. And sons need to see that they can and should do their part to make their mothers’ lives easier… my, what great husbands they’d grow up to be! Thoughtfulness is something that can be taught, and what nicer way than by making yourself the beneficiary.

Make yourself a very happy Mother’s Day.

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Raindrops Falling on my Head

Last week’s post reminded me of a lesson I learned years ago. My family lives in a corner house in a quiet neighborhood, and whenever it rains the four corners of the intersection collect water. One day my little daughter wanted to go for a walk in a drizzling rain and I thought, why not. So we put on rain gear and off we went. We did not melt and it felt good to go against common sense and just enjoy the adventure.

It began to rain more heavily after we had walked around the block and were inside again. Big puddles formed at the corners of the intersecting roads. This time, my daughter wanted to go wade in the puddles. Well, one of my fondest memories of childhood was one day after a heavy rain the sun came out and my mom let me go wading barefoot in big puddles on our neighborhood streets. The rainwater was warm and the mud squishy in my toes. The rain had now settled into a light dripping, so thinking of the fun I once had I put the raincoat back on my daughter, pulled up the hood and set her feet into her big sister’s Land’s End yellow boots (I worry about glass in the streets). I stood under an umbrella watching for cars while my daughter most happily stomped in the puddle like an overgrown duckling.

Well, even those tall boots could not keep that splashing muddy water from jumping inside to wet the white lining and my daughter’s stocking feet, nor did the raincoat keep her short pants from getting soaked with dirty water. I looked at the mess in dismay, but bit my tongue and said nothing. The girl had been so happy, throwing her arms into the air with delight. Sometimes a parent just has to let a child be free – free to get messy, free to have fun in unconventional ways… and that reminds me of the mudfight my older daughter and her friends got into one day…

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