Flower Show Meditation: This Season Will Pass

          I love flowers and plants. To date, I have 40 houseplants that are lifting my spirits through the winter, and I am already planning the flowerbeds that will need tending throughout the spring, summer, and fall. 

          This past Saturday Russ and I ventured up to the Vermont Flower Show in Essex Junction to jumpstart our need for floral beauty. Daffodils, tulips, primrose, rhododendrons, Irish moss, hyacinths, English daisies, lilies, miniature iris, and candytufts were some of the varieties displayed.  Ten thousand square feet showcased them in various colors and hues; they numbered in the thousands.  It was a feast for the eyes, the nose, and the soul.

          As I gazed on all that beauty I reflected on the short duration of blooming time that each flower possesses.  I have managed to plant my yard so that from the time the first crocus appears, I have a variety of perennials flowering in my yard until frost.  

Some blooms endure for a day, others for possibly one or two weeks, and a few for a month.  But they have their seasons, appear for a time, and slowly fade away.  Though the blooming time is brief, I anticipate and cherish those moments.

Life is filled with seasons that are not exclusively spring, summer, fall, and winter.  In my own life I feel as if I have experienced very different periods of time.  From childhood to teen, from single to married with children, and now with all of them grown my life has known many phases. 

 I have been a child, a sister, a teenager, an aunt, a student, an employee, a friend, a wife, a mother, a teacher, a counselor, a grandparent.  And I have been formed and shaped by living in these callings. I wish that I could state that I have lived without any mistakes or errors.  I have had plenty and I have tried my best to restore those things that have been damaged, to let go of those things beyond my control, and to live in the present day.  This day won’t return again.

The book of Ecclesiastes has a list of seasons and times and I’ll name a few: a time to be born and a time to die, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance, a time to lose and a time to keep, a time to keep silence and a time to speak. (The complete list is in chapter 3 of Ecclesiastes.)

Perhaps someone you know has just given birth.  What a joyous time this is filled with laughter and hope.  Embrace these wondrous years of baby and toddlerhood when every day is one of discovery, new expressions, and the words ‘no’ and ‘why’.  This time passes so quickly.

You may be in a time of loss - the loss of a friendship, a career, a spouse, your health.  So many emotions occur.  You may feel disoriented, alone, mournful, or unable to express what is happening to you.

 My friend, Mel, lost her husband to a massive heart attack when he was just 34 after only 4 months of marriage.  In her profound grief she was counseled to do something for someone else every day.  At first it was just a kind word spoken in a check-out line, later she sent cards to shut-ins, as time passed dinner invitations followed to neighbors, and bit by bit she came through more loving and kind than when she began her journey in grieving.

After the flower show, we visited a dear friend who is engaged in a battle against cancer that gave little until Rachel could not get out of bed one morning.  She has already endured the fusing of her spine; radiation is to follow, and more surgery is expected.

 The road ahead appears to be full of obstacles, yet she is hopeful and gladdened by her family uniting together to uphold her and each other. In this season she is blooming and showing her true colors.  Her love is a beautiful fragrance.

Someday we all come to the inevitable truth of the end of our days here on earth.  Not unlike the flowers our appearance is for a brief time. We will face rocky soil, inclement weather, choking weeds, and dry spells.  Our response to life will determine how our flowering will affect those around us.  It’s been said before – “Bloom where you are planted.” This season will pass. 

What Did You Say Your Name Was?

            When we were having children we dutifully read any baby name book that we found, and at their birth we called them by names that we felt were lovely and had meaning.  I think this is how most children receive their title.

 Yet when certain physical traits and personality attributes become dominant, the child is honored with a nickname.  I share some of these without interpretation: Red, Towhead, Motor Mouth, Peanut, Buckethead, Fatty Patty, Rusty, Slack Hands, Pudge, Leggs, Pumpkin, Belly and Beanpole.

            Our youngest Elisabeth was first called Ba-beetle-bit because her older sister couldn’t pronounce Elisabeth.  Over time it became Beetle, then Beet which only I call her occasionally.  Elisabeth’s youngest Trinity was an especially difficult baby and on some trying days Elisabeth would offer Trinity for sale to the other siblings calling, “Who wants a baby? She’s going cheap, anybody got a penny?””

Amid a chorus of “I do, I do”, Tr­­inity would then be hugged and loved on by the other three­ and today she is called Penny.

Once a child enters school any unusual surname may get morphed.  Ruark to Ruarkski, a wee expression of Polish humor: Monahan to Mamahan, the mothering instinct on high alert: Puopolo to Poopsie or Little Poop, a natural handling of this unique last name;  Monk to Monkey, who would capitalize on the term, screeching and chattering, scratching and scampering, and once eating 12 bananas in one sitting.  Her credo was “if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em”.  She also loved the attention.

Neighbors and employers also hand out labels.  One young man’s first job was as a field hand.  He was thin and sorely lacking in muscle.  As time passed he gained muscle and mass and could move 350 pounds at a time.  His boss promptly called him Hercules.

An impressively bulked up teen was an ace catcher that mastered guarding home plate, and could throw out anyone running to second base.  Needless to say, he was Tank.

Then there was Steven.  He was the oldest boy and had 10 siblings.  As the oldest his father held him to a high measure which Steven struggled to attain and often fell short of. He was known at home and in town simply as Damnit Steven the name his father regularly called him.

My husband Russell received a nickname when he was in his mid 30’s.  We lived across from a General Store and would regularly stop by to pick up items that we needed.  John, the owner, was jovial and loved to greet his customers by name and he knew everybody.  It gave a homely feeling to the place.

He really liked Russ and every time Russ entered, John would boom, “Hi Bob!” The first time I heard it I looked to see who had followed us in. No one. John was making eye contact with Russ, and Russ was nodding and smiling right back.

When we got home I was puzzled about the ‘Bob’ thing.  Russ looked sheepish and said, “I don’t know, but he’s been calling me that for weeks.  I know that I’ve told him my name is Russ on more than one occasion, but ‘Bob’ seems to be stuck in his mind.”

So it continued.  One Saturday Russ said, “This is embarrassing.  Everyone else in town knows that I’m Russ. Today when I get some hardware I’ll tell him.”

Russ came home about a half hour later with an interesting fact he learned from John.  John’s real name was Evan.  The former owner was called John and when Evan took over the store the town folk just continued to call him John.

“He must have laughed about having your name wrong after that.  What did he say when you told him?”

Silence.

“You did tell him, right?”

“You know, Bob’s not such a bad name after all. And he has called me it for a long time.”

“You chickened out?”

“I chickened out.”

“Way to go, Bob.”

         

Relationships Take Work

We all live in relationship with someone or probably a lot of someones. And if you want a good relationship, it is going to take work.
Communication will entail eye contact, hand gestures, body posturing, and the like.  And the closer you are, the more time you will need to invest.
If you desire to have a strong marriage in your golden years, you will have to spend a lot of time when you are younger listening, sharing, understanding, caring, often coming to a compromise that you both can live with. 
A lot of time will need to be invested, but the end result will be so worth it.
Security, contentment, gratitude, peacefulness, and love are ust a few of the benefits.
It's a bit of a dance with each partner taking turns leading.  Give 100% always and on those days that you are unable, the other person will carry you as you will them on their bad days.
Life is comprised of a lot of long days and short years.  Make the most of all of them.

Spring is very far away

When I peruse my fb page, I often come across a countdown of days until spring or posts that deal with a hatred of winter.
There are just too many days left.  Why open the door to depression?
Why not instead embrace the things that there are to love about winter: warm toasty blankets, hot chocolate, crisp walks in freshly fallen snow, sledding, puzzles, books, movies, fresh baked cookies and pies, ice skating, snowshoeing, company in for a night of games, crock pot dinners, freshly baked bread.  
The four seasons need to be embraced and enjoyed.  They're not going anywhere.
The January thaw will come and give a respite, then February will bury us in snow, and March will play between winter and spring.
Oh, but when it comes!!!! What joy! I think you experience it just a bit more after the winter.

The Most Important Things in Life

We are in trouble in our home, in our state, in our country, in our world.

People are warring against people based on belief, race, gender, politics, lifestyle, or choices.  And so, I repeat, we are in trouble.

A new year is here and individuals are making resolutions to lose weight, exercise, quit smoking, consume less alcohol, clean closets, pay off debt, or the like.

 What if we decided to be kind?

 In essence we would cease from viewing others as the enemy, but would instead view them as a fellow traveler worthy of respect simply because they exist, have worth, and share the world with us.

For well over a decade I have worked with individuals in crisis.  I have listened to stories of incredible heartbreak and loss, witnessed the effect of broken homes and absentee parenting, and seen patterns repeated by early imprinting.

 Broken people with broken relationships need to know that life can be different, that families can love each other, and that manipulation does not need to be the avenue chosen to survive.

If we want to see the world a different place, we have to start one person at a time and the first place to start is with ourselves.  Until I treat each person that I meet with kindness and respect, until I listen to the story of others, until I see a unique individual before me, until I change me, we will go on as we are – a world in serious trouble.

I have heard or read many thoughts from people nearing the end of their lives.  No one talks of wishing they had made more money or worked longer hours.  Any remorse seems to be over broken relationships; any joy is in the family and friends that remain.

While it is still today, let’s work at building bridges to the people that we encounter in this life. There are some simple ways to begin as we face the year 2015.

 Stop texting as your primary way of communication.  Communication involves voice inflection and facial expression which is not possible when dueling thumbs are the only body parts involved in the dialogue.  A phone call is better; speaking face to face is the best.

There are young couples and single mothers desperate for someone to come alongside them and model good parenting skills.  Many of them come from fractured homes, are fatherless, or products of multiple foster homes.  How can you become what you have never witnessed?

  Be that example.  Even with all of your own shortcomings and failures, you can teach them to learn from their mistakes and bring them hope and compassion.

People are alone in the midst of a crowd, at the workplace, in front of their computers, in checkout lines, while raising their families.  Do you know of an elderly person that is no longer able to leave her home? How about someone ill and enduring long hours of treatment at a hospital? A single mother harried with work, young children, and lack of sleep? Maybe you are the person needed to break that loneliness.

Perhaps you are the person that is alone.  Volunteers are welcomed at hospitals, senior centers, adult daycares, hospice, pregnancy centers, food shelves, schools.  You are needed somewhere; find your niche and fill that need.

The rapper Eminen states, “I don’t care if you’re black, white, straight, bisexual, gay, lesbian, short, tall fat, skinny, rich, or poor.  If you’re nice to me, I’ll be nice to you.  Simple as that.”

That’s a good quote, but I say it doesn’t go far enough not if we want to change the world.  I would add another phrase: “And I’ll be nice to you even if you’re not nice to me.”  It’s really as hard as that. 

But the old proverbs say ‘a soft answer turns aside wrath’ and ‘you can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar’.

 One person at a time, beginning with ourselves, we can change the world since the most important things in life are others.

Someday, You Too, Will Have an Obituary

          Bursting through the door on Christmas Trinity, at 3 ½ years gave me a resounding kiss when I scooped her up,  and then thrust ‘Bernie’ forward so that he too could kiss me. 

Bernie has an embroidered eye and snaggle tooth, is olive and mauve in color, and fully encompasses his trademark name of being an Ugly doll.  He is UGLY, but to be offered a kiss by him lets you know that you are indeed loved by Trinity.

          That morning she was responsible for her attire and had foregone a fancy Christmas dress.  Instead she was clothed in leggings and a long sleeved shirt. Both were covered in bright multi-colored horizontal stripes that did not match.  She did this because she thought she looked like a caterpillar.

          The last three years of Trinity’s life have flown by and her personality becomes more evident every day.  So too, the last 58 years of my life are pass and I wonder just what kind of person I am becoming.  Because this truth is unavoidable, someday there will be an obituary.

          With the year 2014 bright and new and unwritten I am determined to live not only in 2014 but throughout the rest of my life striving to attain the following virtues.

          Be Present – A day can contain so many things.  Errands, shopping, doctor’s appointments, phone calls, work schedules, chores, car maintenance.  It can all be so exhausting, and sometimes it’s easier to be on automatic pilot and to get the jobs done with the least human interference.

 But life is filled with interaction.  And the commodity we deal in is relationship with folks that have worth and a story to tell.  I want to value those people, make their load a bit lighter, and yes, to hear their stories.  That can only happen if I am present in each moment, with each person, in every interaction.  Most things are not about me.

          Be Kind - “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.”  Whoever first coined that phrase was obviously in denial of the huge gaping hole that unkind works produce in the human spirit.  A word hasty spoken can never be unspoken.

 I want to speak words of kindness or not speak at all. The adage of having my brain engaged before opening my mouth will be a tough one to conquer.

          Be Generous – The dictionary defines this as giving freely of one’s time, help, or money.  I don’t want to be generous in one area and consider myself to have fulfilled the other two.  If I keep my physical needs small, I can more easily help others.  But the reality is that sometimes it will entail a sacrifice on my part, and it may even hurt.

Be Joyful - Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! Look around, breathe deeply, touch the earth, listen to a child laugh, snuggle under a comforter, laugh until it hurts, sled down a hill, sing around a campfire, dine with friends, play board games, or celebrate another birthday.

 If you look for it, you will find it and find yourself ‘surprised by joy’ as C.S. Lewis was.

          Have Faith – I believe that all of life has meaning and purpose.  The trivial and mundane can teach us faithfulness and attention to detail.  Sickness and trial shows us those things that are worthwhile; it may also show us where we need to grow and change.

Times of celebration occur and are interspersed as a spice to ordinary life.  Life is not always cake and ice cream, nor is it only bread and water.  The one true thing about this life is that it will change.  With faith, you can accept those changes because you believe there is someone greater than yourself in control.

          The virtues I desire to be overflowing in my life are the very ones I desire to pass on to my children and grandchildren.  Today, Trinity wants to be a caterpillar; my hope is that one day her spirit will soar and be like a beautiful butterfly. I’m hoping to change too and be transformed.  After all, someday there will be an obituary.      

Hello, My Name Is...

            I recently returned from my 40 year class reunion which coincided with a family celebration for my mother’s 85^th birthday.  There were two events.  At one I wore a shirt with my RUARK 4 emblazoned on the back, at the other a name tag stating my name as Kathy Ruark Rohloff.

 I wore them with much trepidation convinced that one of my two worse fears would be realized.  1. That someone would recognize me.  2. That no one would recognize me.  After all it has been 40 years.  If anyone has revisited old high school photos you can understand my misgivings.

            Before attending the first event, a friend had counseled me to pay attention to eyes and smiles saying, “Those things never change.”

 My first encounter was amazingly simple.  I immediately recognized and was recognized by two former classmates.  We all agreed that 40 years had been exceedingly kind to us and we then shared basic facts on careers, addresses, children, and, of course, grandchildren.

            Turning I was accosted by a broadly smiling older gentleman who exclaimed, “I’m Denny Simpson! I was in the class two years ahead of you.” (It seems he had married a girl in my class.) He then enveloped me in a huge bear hug.

 I actively asked him pertinent questions as I racked my brain for just who this person was.  There was a definite twinkle in the eyes, a dimpled smile and as our conversation continued he began to morph and change before me. 

I mentally saw hair grow in and color to brown, a goatee magically appeared, and his cheeks thinned.  Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, I saw Denny as I had known him 40 years earlier and cried, “I know you! I DO know you! You’re Denny Simpson!” 

His grin grew and then I sealed it.  “You were such a cutie!”

            The next evening many more connections were made.  Suzie’s bright red hair had softened to a rich auburn, Maureen was now a lobbyist.  My old badminton partner, pep rally poster maker, field hockey sufferer Kathy was a librarian in Georgia.  There were at least five couples that dated in high school and were approaching their 38 year anniversaries. 

So many conversations began with…”remember when?” or “I remember…”  The best was when Linda stated, “I remember when you dyed your bangs green with food coloring for St. Patrick’s Day.”  I have no memory of that, but believe that it dwells in the realm of possibility.

            Careers ranged from teachers, nurses, an oil refinery trouble-shooter, church musician, a golf cart customizer, to the mayor of Bourbonnais my hometown.  Although those that attended lived mainly in Illinois and Indiana, California, Texas, and Vermont were represented. There was one potential awkward moment when my sister’s former boyfriend who married the girlfriend of his good friend that dumped her for another girl he married was seated at the same table.  Got that?  The comment I heard was, “Boy! High school was a long time ago.”  We all shared a laugh.

 Hey, who woulda thunk? It came time for the class photo where we were called to assemble according to height.  Earlier in the evening as I scanned the crowd I kept repeating to Russ, “Are all of the guys in my class really this short or is it me?”  At picture time it became obvious that it was indeed true since I found myself standing next to the star forward of our basketball team.  Need I say that I shifted down a hill slightly so that other women were nearby in the photo?

            The photo shoot over, Steve, a former classmate from both grade and high school commented, “After last night I went home and told my wife, I saw Kathy Ruark.  She’s so tall; she must be 6’1”.”  ”Steve, that’s not true!” I laughed.  “I’m only 5’11”.”  Steve then threw back his shoulders, stood on tiptoe, and added, “Me too.”