Friends wanted: inquire within

I am noticing a common thread among women.
Now, it happens to men as well,
but I am a woman and can only voice my opinion as such.

Women want friends.
Women are in need of girly girl relationships.

In grade school, everyone likes everyone!
Moms set up play dates and birthday parties and social interaction.

In middle school, sleepovers start, music becomes important,
cliques begin, boys are noticed, broken hearts are shared.
Moms are still arranging things but not so much.

In high school, friendships are explored, adapted, changed and accepted.
The hunt for boyfriends begins in earnest
as do narrowing the best friend options.
More important life events are shared.
We begin to grow up.
Moms are not involved AT ALL.

In college and after, our lives begin to expand, and isolate.
Jobs take up our social time, but we still can party into the wee hours.
Most of our school friends have moved away, or we have.
Making friends becomes a bit harder.
Your options are limited.
Office, gym, church, bar.
We become more self conscious.
If you are lucky enough to find a life partner,
friendships take a back seat for years.
You also meld his and her friendships.
You are lucky if you like the spouse of your friend.
You are luckier if your spouse likes their spouse.

When you have children, your main priority becomes what your mother's was:
Find playgroups and friends for your child.
Your needs and your focus are put on the back burner.

When you finally realize that you do indeed need a friend our two,
it is difficult to make that happen for yourself.

Honestly, I was in my thirties when I earnestly began my search.
My girls were in the beginnings of not needing my input.
After a few homeschool groups I started,
and a few women's Bible studies, I was asked to lead a small study group.
We were twelve women seeking friendships and answers in a common situation.

We went on women's retreats together,
and spent most every evening on those retreats, talking into the wee hours.
We made time for being together in the months and years to follow.
Our time together was important.  We made it important.

In the past fourteen years, eight of these women have stayed close.
Really close.
I know that if I needed someone at two in the morning,
I could call upon any of these women and they would each be there for me.
We can be our whole selves with each other.
I have shared every part of myself with them.
Some I see frequently, to share a salad and the week's happenings.
Some I see once a month or less.
Whenever we are together, it is as if no time has passed.
We talk frequently through emails, texts and sometimes phone calls.

Over the years, we have each made other friends, chosen different paths,
experienced different life events.
We took what we became with each other,  and reached out through the years to others.
I have even reconnected with high school friends, and now that we are adults,
it seems easier to share out lives with one another.

Now, I know how very lucky I am.
I also know how much of myself I have invested in these friends over the years,
and they in me.
It was not easy all the time.
It is hard to share yourself with strangers to the point where you are not strangers.
You must not judge, you must keep their secrets and not gossip,
you must be available, you must listen, you must take the chance.
You must initiate any and all contact. 
Every time.

Yes, there are times when people just do not mesh.
Not everyone gets along with everyone.
It's ok to have friends who are just surface friends.
It's ok to end a friendship with someone you do not honestly enjoy spending time with.
However, you must work very hard at all relationships.
You must find opportunities to meet people with the same interests as yourself.
Take the chance.

I often find myself not wanting to go to dinner or meet up.
I make myself every time though, because I am never disappointed,
and I always, always, feel refreshed and uplifted after spending an hour with friends.

I am blessed.

PS...
I have wanted to start a meeting place for just this life situation.
Reach out to me if you are interested in diving into this life adventure.

Music takes me...

Music seems always to have been a part of my life.
I cannot carry a tune in a bucket tho.

In middle school, I remember memorizing songs with my best friend.
We played Elvis and Barry Manilow for hours.
Singing at the top of our voices, over and over again.
I still know Copacabana word for word!

I remember receiving a record player one Christmas.
It came with headphones, as bit as cats.
Tons of padding all around the ears.
I would go to sleep listening to all my favorites.
As the years went by, I used those same earphones with the radio,
and listened to old radio shows like the Shadow and Alfred Hitchcock  Presents.

One year in sixth grade, my bestie and I did a presentation for the class
of the opening song from All in the family.. What a hoot.

When I got into high school, I became a band buddy, added to my many differing groups of friends.
Now, I could not play any instrument, but was a color guard, flag waver for three years.
I dated a drummer, two trombone players, a tuba player,
had a crush on a trumpet player, and most of my friends were in the marching band.
There is a whole book of the adventures had in marching band.

I remember during free periods, and I seem to have had quite a few free periods,
I would go down to the band room and just listen to the classes.
Once, Mr McIlroy even let me play the bells!
The stage band director, Mr. Bianco, was also my Shakespeare teacher,
and he also allowed me to oversee the practices.
I tried to play the trombone once.
You really need strong lips to play that instrument!
And I could never quite get the rhythm of the double bass on the drums!
Although I tried.

When I was a young mom, after the kids were in bed,
I would pour myself a Jack and Coke (a tablespoon Jack to 12 oz coke)
and sway and twirl in the kitchen to country music.
I was of course living in the deep south of Alabama in those days.

I listened to bluegrass band practice every Friday night in the funeral home.
My in laws, and a cousin who was the funeral director, were in this band.
At first I was content minding all the kids,
with moments of sitting and doing cross stitch while humming along to
I'll Fly Away and Country Roads.

Eventually, I took guitar lessons from my sister in law, who tried to get me to sing soprano.
I took finger guitar lessons for about a year.
I practiced for hours on the front porch swing while the kids played in the yard.
I sang loudly, as the only person close enough to hear me was
Mr. Perrigan, across the street.
Puff the Magic Dragon was one of the only songs I learned to pick pretty well.
My kids have many memories of me singing Meet Me in the Middle, trying to learn the harmony.
John Deer Green was also a favorite of the Ballard girls!

I belonged to a women's traveling choir for a few years.  I sang alto, but God help me,
I sang with whoever I was standing next to.
I still do.

When we moved North, my music taste moved to emo and punkish tunes that the kids listened to.
I'm glad that didn't last long, but Jack Johnson and other groups occasionally are played still.

I have always loved REAL music from the Rat Pack!  Dean and Frank are almost always on
a play list close by.

My theme song since middle school has been Simon and Garfunkel's the 59th Street Bridge Song.
If you know me at all, you know how true this is.
Even without this song playing, I move through life with this attitude... :)

Last night my friends and I went to the South Bend Symphony.
The theme was James Bond.
These two hours brought me right back to the good ol days I have been missing.
Images, songs, feelings, rushed in.
I have been a bit depressed lately with both of my girls so far away,
and this winter has been brutal, with me mostly hibernating for months.

It was good to feel the music again.
You can find me bopping, swaying and dancing in the church pew
 to contemporary Christian music,
 as well as twirling around my kitchen, singing to Charlie.

For someone who can't carry a tune, I sure love music!
I am blessed!

Your Memories

Your memories are your own reality.
You are your hurts and your laughter.
When you are a child, the whole world is about you.
Some people never grow out of this phase.

It's almost impossible while sailing a toy boat
to look across the pond, see a man fishing,
and share his thoughts and memory of that pond.
No matter what he tells you of his experience,
it will always be  a toy boat memory for you.
You may comprehend what he says,
but you will never fully understand.

Every child should have a childhood full of love and acceptance
and every chance to grow up without trauma.
More and more, in this broken world
there are horror stories out there.
We few who grew up "normally"
are blessed to only hear of these other childhoods.
The silver spoon, never divorced, 2.5 family with a dog
can never understand fully the divorced, had to live with grandma
because mom did drugs and dad was in prison, childhood.

We try. 
Most of us try to understand each other.
But sadly, most of us cannot step out of our own hurts and memories
to see that the person we think is hurting us,
the person who is not the perfect parent, sibling or friend,
is actually hurting themselves.
And who is to say what is the perfect...fill in the blank?
Is it your perception, or mine?
Or is it his?

We make decisions based on our memories and feelings.
This is  not what God would have us do.
God is GRACE.
To allow that cast off relation to be exactly who they are.
To exercise or not, to eat vegan or not, to smoke or not.
Not expecting them to be who you want them to be.
Letting them have the job that fulfills them,
not what you think should fulfill them.
To listen to the music they enjoy, even if you do not like opera.
To live where they feel comfortable,
not to have the home you approve of.
Be understanding that they have a past.
They try their best
They make mistakes.
We all do.
Pray.
Study.
See a counselor to help you overcome.
Then put it behind you as best you can.
Smile even when you feel like yelling.
Because anything you say will only ever really mean more to you.

Sometimes people need to have distance put between you and them.
Sometimes they are so hurt and stuck in their horrible memories
that they can only hurt others.
But before you take that drastic action,
make sure you are not letting your own selfish memories
overshadow your reason.
Be deliberate about your timing, your words,
and try to step outside of your own troubles
to see the hurt surrounding another.

So many innocent people are affected by your actions.
Both good and bad.
Some consequences known,
but most unknown because
you do not take the energy or time to notice who you affect.

We only get so many chances in this life to make a difference.
Give that flower.
Write that note.
Make that call.
Take that hour and visit.
Smile.
Say a kind word to a stranger.
Take that moment to hold open the door.
The more good thoughts you think,
even if you do not feel them right away,
will change your future.
You never know when it will be your last opportunity.
And you are the only one who can control that action.
Most times blaming the other person for not reaching out,
is only really hurting yourself.

I love you.

429 Sleepy Hollow Road

Most of my childhood years were spent here.
We moved from South Bend to Pittsburgh in 1972
I was 7
Elementary school,

middle school,

 high school and a bit more.
(lots of construction remodeling going on.  supposed to be done next year)

 

We moved to Houston Texas in 1984
My youngest is moving to Pittsburgh at the end of October.
I am very happy for her new adventure.
It is gonna be fantastic!
While exploring her new options one weekend,
I had the opportunity to visit my old stomping grounds.
Apparently Mt Lebanon was the ritzy area.
I never knew.
It was just home.
I had lunch with old friends.
Shared laughs with my brides maids.
Caught up on a bit of the past.
Looking forward to many visits and much reconnecting.

One thing I had always wanted to do was to visit my old home.
As I drove down the steep
(less steep than I remember)
hill towards my home,

I felt very nostalgic.
Memories flooded my mind and heart.
So very many memories!
It was a great childhood.
Silver spoon.
Perfect.
One I would wish on everyone.

I stopped the car in front of the Towns' home on the hill

across from the Anchors' home.

I walked to the street across from my house and took a few pictures.
The Shelly's house.

Both directions leading from my home.

The outside of my house and the side "porch" where we used to
break into the kitchen when we forgot our keys.

I decided I would take the chance and knock on the door to get
the new owner's permission to walk around the house
and take a few pictures.
The front step was still as high as I had remembered it.
As I waited for someone to answer,
I noticed that the small stained glass in the front door was the same.
It was the same front door that had been there almost 30 years ago!

A woman about my age opened the door. 
As I explained who I was, she invited me in.
She and her partner had bought the house almost three years earlier.
They had not completely furnished it,
 because they were saving up for what they wanted.
She said she was working from home today
and I was welcome to walk through the house
and take any pictures I wanted.
I think I shook her a bit because
I was sharing a lot of my memories right there in the entrance.
The red tile my dad had placed at the bottom of the steps,
memories of sliding down the stairs on sleepingbags and cardboard,

the piano room that is now a music room,

the passage my dad closed up between the livingroom and kitchen
that is now a pantry,

the "brick wall" in the family room,

 Ya, my Daddy built that opening too!

the view onto the deck,

the now gone greenhouse we built right before moving,
playing hide and seek in the cupboard at the top of the stairs.

As she sat at the diningroom table I made my way through the house.

The blue fireplace was now white.

The kitchen is about the same size, but that's about it.

Everything else was pretty close to my memories.
As I went upstairs, I took pictures of my sister's room,

my room with the attic entrance in the closet

the bathroom with the same ugly tile on the floor,

even my parent's room with the built in closet my dad made for my mom
as a gift one year.

Yes, I even opened the tiny closet in their room that was always magical somehow.

I walked around the house and took pictures.

 I remember paving this with my dad many times!

 Where the greenhouse used to be.

How did we ever scale that wall onto the deck and down again? 
We sure forgot our keys a lot of the time!
It looked the same except for the bushes beside the drive were gone.
Memories of the Hayden family and all the fun times playing came back.

I'm so very glad that I stopped to knock and ask a favor.
It was worth it.
Thank you Mommy and Daddy for such a great childhood home.

Girly Girl Vacation

It was a wonderful weekend.
It was a much needed time.
We spent our time pleasing no one but ourselves,
answering only to each other,
sharing memories that will last a lifetime.
We don't understand why we are friends.
We are as different as different as can be.
So many quirks.
So much love.
I am so blessed to have friends like these!

The bench that our key and gate card was "hidden" in!

The girls stopped at the casino first, so I had a few hours to take in my new digs! 
I so enjoyed wandering around, made some guacamole, and sat on the deck!

 

Then I went fishing off of the pier.

I LOVE to fish!

I caught these two within minutes of casting out and adjusting the depth a few times!

How excited I was!

I haven't caught a fish in almost twenty years!

 

 

 

After my friends arrived at the lake,

I washed my hands...but still smelled like fish until I rubbed them

 with the lemon from my iced water at dinner ...

we all shared food at an empty restaurant, about to close,

 with a very sweet waiter who made wonderful bloody Mary's and margaritas!

 

 

 

Woke up the first morning to fog lifting off of the lake! 
I'm so glad I have such a creative loving God!

 

Yes...lounging with feet on the fold out couch.

Yes....shoes on the sheets!

AHHHHHH

Stretching ourselves!

 

 

On to town and walking and shopping and eating!

My favorite Saugatuck store....spices and teas!
Came home with a few meat rubs and strawberry/kiwi and chocolate mint teas!

Loved this bracelet!  The sign said they were designers' miniatures.
Ya...Barbie shoes from all the thrift shops!
We all know.



Walking the garden.  Always a must in any season in Saugatuck!

 

Lunch at the Butler!

Did I mention I LOST 3 pounds!!!!

 

More jewelry shopping.  Wrist and ankle bracelets.

 

One of the girly girls sashayed through a store in a very risque apron.

I'm not sharing the picture of her or telling which of us did it!

 

 

So many puppies, so little time!

Girly girl swag!  I even interrupted a woman's conversation so she could take our pic!

 

Pickle is the fire queen! 

 

Nice marshmallow/hot dog coals!

 

Leaving the next morning, it just started to lightly rain.

 

After packing the car, I noticed I had a flat. 

My friend is always prepared.

Some would say over prepared.

Never again will I ever joke with her about this quality.

These ever present ponchos made our mile walk to the gas station fun.

 

 

A quoted $55 wrecker cost  $10

A quoted $85 tire cost $10 to bead the tire I bought Friday

I was reimbursed the $30 from my mechanic!

So blessed